Page 31 of The Dangerous Love of a Rogue
‘You can never attend too many. Are your shoes pinching? You may have too much dancing if your shoes are pinching…’
Mary laughed at his attempt to cheer her, when in reality the weak joke sent her tumbling into the doldrums. If she never spoke to Lord Framlington again, she would have to endure an entirely dull life.
‘I should be honest. It was not I who noticed your mood. Bethany did. She sent me to cheer you up.’
Mary glanced at Bethany, who was now talking to Emily.
She smiled at Daniel. She must cease longing for Lord Framlington. This was enough. It had to be. Even if inside she spent the rest of her life screaming from boredom.
As the dance ended, Lord Framlington entered the ballroom with a group of men. They stopped still at the edge of the room and looked about the crowd. One man’s gaze passed over her, then jolted back. He turned to the others. Then they all looked at her at the same time Lord Framlington did.
‘Mary, may I have the next dance?’ Philip Smyth asked.
She turned her back on Drew and his friends. ‘Yes.’ She bobbed a curtsy. Drew must have said something about her to his friends; their eyes had devoured her. What would he have said?
Philip Smyth took her hand as the music began.
She began the dance one step behind everyone, so light-headed she felt as though she might collapse. But she did not give in to her weakness for the dark-haired, hazel-eyed fiend. She lifted her chin, caught up the step and continued, focusing on Philip and smiling as hard as she could.
When the music came to its crescendo, ending in a brisk flurry, relief and a desire to reach the safety of her mother swamped Mary. But before Philip could lead her back, a shadow fell over her. She turned. John’s cousin, on his father’s side, stood there, Lord Oliver Harding, and one of Lord Framlington’s friends.
‘Miss Marlow.’ Oliver bowed.
She curtsied. ‘Lord Harding.’
She had met Oliver several times but he’d never paid her any attention. He was older than John and not interested in John’s young half-siblings.
He turned to the man beside him.
Heat burned beneath Mary’s skin.
‘Mr Harper begged me for an introduction. Miss Marlow. Mr Harper, Miss Marlow, is my cousin’s half-sister.’
She bobbed a very shallow curtsy. Mary had no knowledge of Mr Harper. She’d never seen nor heard of him.
He raised a hand to take hers. ‘May I have this dance, Miss Marlow?’
If she refused it would be obvious to everyone around them; the sets had formed, Philip had gone and she would have to leave the floor alone.
She gave him her hand and faced piercing, assessing, blue eyes. Goosebumps ran up her arm as though a cold breeze had swept into the room.
His blonde hair gave him a look of innocence, but his eyes denied it entirely. He was a rake of the worst sort, the sort who did not even bother to court wealth. That was why she’d not seen him before, because he was not the type of man to attend sedate functions. Even the card room here, she was sure, would not play deep enough.
He was a man who usually danced with sin, not in ballrooms. And Drew’s chosen companion…
Her mouth dried. Why did he want to dance with her? What had Drew said?
‘You’re very beautiful, Miss Marlow. More so than I’d thought. I see why he is smitten.’
‘He?’ Her cheeks heated with a deeper blush as they took the first steps of the dance, moving closer then away from one another. He released her hand. She turned to make a ring of four with the couple to their left and faced Drew.
So, this was the game?
They completed a full circle, hands joined as a four and then the dance led her to change partner. Of course her new partner was Drew.
‘Miss Marlow.’ He acknowledged her with perfect formality.
The next move was a closer turn, shoulder to shoulder. He pressed close. Heat scorched down her arm, and burned inside her, her heart thumping hard. She opened her mouth to breathe, but there was no air.
