Page 35 of Not Quite a Lady
She accepted the escort of Captain Eden to supper, enjoyed a blameless flirtation with him, then noticed that Jack had escorted in one of the Miss Wilsons and seemed totally engrossed in her. Perhaps he just did not dance, which did not bode well for a romantic last waltz.
By the time he came to claim her hand she did not know how to feel. ‘Youcandance, can’t you?’ she hissed as he led her onto the floor. ‘Only you have sat everything out, and I wondered.’
Jack brow furrowed as he took her in his arms. ‘I have been watching,’ he said with a note of anxiety in his deep voice. ‘It seems easy enough.’
‘Jack.’ The music started. There was no escape now, not without dragging him off the floor, or fleeing. Which was worse? To do that and cause speculation about why, or be a laughing stock as they stumbled around the room?
Then she realised they were moving, that Jack was dancing with perfect competence and that the beast was smiling at her with eyes brimming with laughter.
‘You horrid man. You let me think–’
‘It was irresistible, Lily. You should have seen your face. Whatdo you think we do in the North? Paint ourselves with woad and dance around camp fires? Or do you think the fashions have stuck in the last century and the most up to date dance we have heard of is the minuet?’
‘Woad of course.’ She was smiling back now, moving within his guiding arms as though she had always danced with him. For a big man he had grace, even if he did not venture any of the more daring turns that made the chaperones tut in disapproval. He certainly had the strength and the confidence to command the floor.
But more than that, the way he held her, the way he looked at her, made her feel safeandterrified, both at the same time.
Lily did not realise that the music had stopped until she found that they were standing still in each other’s arms, their eyes locked. The rest of the couples were beginning to leave the floor.
‘I think we had better move,’ Jack remarked, turning. ‘Or do you think if we wait they will strike up an encore?’
Blushing, Lily let him take her off the floor. ‘That is quite my favourite dance tune,’ she improvised in a frantic attempt to explain her behaviour. ‘Really, it is quite mesmerising, is it not?’
‘You are quite mesmerising,’ Jack murmured in her ear.
‘I–’
‘Lily dear, I think it is about time we took our leave, do you not?’ It was Lady Billington, her gaze speculative as it moved from one face to another.
‘Mr Lovell, might we drop you off?’ Her chaperone did not know where Jack was living, nor, Lily realised, who he was, other than that he was injured during the riot outside the house.
‘Thank you. I lodge not far from Chandler Street. That would be most kind of you, ma’am.’
Lily could see in the light which flickered into the carriage interior that Lady Billington was dozing – or “resting her eyes” as Aunt Herrick always called it.
What was Jack thinking about? She could not read his face in the gloom, but he was staring out of the window. Was he regretting that strangely intense dance? Or had it been only she who had felt the tension and the magic?
Lady Billington came to herself with a start as the carriage pulled up at the steps of the Chandler Street house.
Jack jumped down to assist Lily, then declined as Lady Billington graciously offered to take him to his door. ‘Thank you, ma’am, but I would rather see Miss France safely inside.’
They said good night to the chaperone and stood looking after the carriage as it rounded the corner.
‘Is anyone up?’ Jack eyed the front of the house with some misgiving There was a faint glimmer through the fanlight, but no other signs of life.
‘I have a key.’ Lily produced it, her awkwardness disappearing at the expression on Jack’s face as he looked from the weighty metal object to her little evening reticule.
‘I left it in the carriage,’ she explained with a smile, handing it to him. ‘I always tell the staff to go to bed when I am not sure what time I will get in, I do not see why they have to sit up and waste their time, simply to open the door to me.’
‘Your maid too?’ She nodded. ‘An original attitude amongst London society, I should imagine.’ He opened the door and stood aside for Lily to enter. ‘What about the bolts?’
‘I can manage those. Do come in.’ For a moment she thought he would refuse. ‘You can go through the garden door, there is no point in walking right round to the mews.’
The house seemed eerily quiet. It was strange that she had never noticed it before. They stood together in the hall while Lily lit a branch of candles from the single lantern that had been left burning there. The door to the small salon stood open as it always did when she had been out and a light supper was laid out on the table.
‘I am just going to have a glass of lemonade, perhaps a biscuit. Will you join me?’
Jack hesitated and Lily found she was holding her breath. What was he thinking? She wished she had the courage to reach out and touch him, as though by doing so she could read his mind.
