Page 21 of A Torn Allegiance
“Excuse me.” Prince Hayes stepped through the group and held out his hand.
“Oh yes, Prince Hayes. Thank you.” She rested her hand on his arm as he led her out onto the floor.
“Is it always like this for you?”
“Like what?” She glanced over her shoulder.
“Like that.” His chin pointed back the way they’d come. “Men fawning for a moment of your time.” One eyebrow lifted. But something about his question tugged at that flicker of jealousy she’d felt.
“I could ask the same of you.”
His chuckle started low, then grew. “I wondered if you’d care.”
“Care? And why should I care?”
His chuckle deepened.
“And what is so funny?”
They stood across from each other for the dance.
“Nothing. This is a laugh of pure enjoyment and nothing more.”
She was left to ponder what precisely he was enjoying, because the dance had begun and the small phrases available to use as they passed each other were not sufficient to truly gauge the meaning in his response.
Their dance was one of the more enjoyable she’d ever had at Almack’s. As she passed the others in the line, touched hands, circled, and made small conversation with them, she waited in anticipation for the moments she would spend with Prince Hayes. His hands cradling her, his eyes staring into hers, his hand at her back were all that mattered.
Singular.
She enjoyed it above all else.
When the dance ended, he offered to get them both a lemonade, and she was left to herself. Soon the man for her next set came to take her hand. They had a short interlude before it would begin.
“I’m waiting for a lemonade if you could be so good to wait with me,” she said politely.
“Of course.” Lord Tenney stood closer than she expected, but they were soon separated when a group of women approached.
The first, the blonde who had clung to Prince Hayes’s arm earlier, said, “How was your dance with Prince Hayes? No one else matters tonight but him. He is the loveliest dancer; did you not think so?”
Elsie opened her mouth to respond, but then she noticed the prince in question leaving the room, no lemonade in hand, a well-known French dignitary right behind him. Distracted, she asked, “Have you met his brothers?”
Her gaze flitted around the room until she made eye contact with her father, who was watching the door that had swallowed up the prince. Father’s frown deepened.
The music began again, and while Elsie was led back out onto the dance floor, the draw of that closed door loomed so close to her awareness that she didn’t hear anything Lord Tenney said. She only hoped her automatic responses made sense.
Chapter Eight
Prince Hayes knew he wasneglecting the lemonade for Lady Elsie, but she seemed once again surrounded, and Pierre Lamoreaux, a known scoundrel and French privateer, had approached him. The man’s weaselly voice grated against Hayes’s happiness. “Might I have a word?”
Hayes caught Marc’s eye and nodded toward Lady Elsie. His brother dipped his head and moved in her direction.
Once Lamoreaux and Hayes were out of the ballroom, the Frenchman led the way through to the end of the corridor and into a room. It looked, perhaps, to be used for storage.
Hayes turned to Mr. Lamoreaux with partly concealed impatience.
“I will be but a moment, and you can return to the beauties of the Londonton.” He bowed his head, his voice full of oily mockery.
“I’m surprised to see you here, in London and at Almack’s.”
