Page 58 of A Housekeeper for the Earl of Drinkwater
She dissolved into a fit of giggles, and Edward relished the way it made him feel. Feeling inspired, he wobbled back to the table he had just left, grabbing two fresh glasses of champagne. Then, he turned back around, walking more carefully so as to not spill any of the golden liquid. He approached her, holding out one of the glasses to her.
She was wiping at her eyes with merriment when he reached her, and he was mesmerised by how beautiful she was. Being so close to her, he could now see that there was indeed a lingering sadness in her eyes, though her amusement at his drunken behaviour was somehow as intoxicating as the alcohol itself.
“Will you join me?” he asked, offering her a glass.
She looked at it, and he could see she was tempted.
“My lord, I do not think it appropriate for me to drink while I am supposed to be working,” she said.
Edward hunched down so that his face was close to hers. He glanced around conspiratorially and grinned.
“Do not worry, Miss White,” he whispered. “I will not tell your master.”
She laughed again, and he shivered with delight. She shook her head, but she took the glass from him.
“In that case, I suppose a little champagne could do little harm,” she said.
Edward smiled, raising his glass to hers.
“To secret champagne . . . and dancing,” he toasted.
She touched her glass to his, furrowing her brow.
“Dancing?” she asked, sipping her drink delicately. “Who is dancing?”
Edward finished his glass, urging her to do the same. When she had, he took her hand.
“I hope thatyouwill agree to dance withme,” he declared, pleased with his rhyme and looking at her with intense hopefulness.
She blushed, and his heart skipped.
“I should refuse, of course, my lord, since you are my employer,” she told him. But her lips were smiling and her eyes were sparkling, and he could see her excitement. Was it because of him? He hoped so.
“I would never force you,” he said as seriously as the champagne allowed. “But, as said by my employer, I strongly encourage you to accept my invitation. In fact, I would be heartbroken if you were to refuse on this momentous occasion.”
She gasped, her blush deepening. Then, she smiled shyly at him and nodded.
“Well, I cannot bear the thought of breaking an earl’s heart,” she said, looking away bashfully. “So, I accept.”
His heart soared as he pulled her to the middle of the dance floor. There was no music, but he had a voice. He started humming, earning him more giggles from the housekeeper. Would he ever tire of that sound?
He hummed a waltz as he spun her around the dance floor. He was hardly surprised to realise it was the best dance he’d had all evening. She kept in perfect time with his offkey singing and drunken dance steps, and she felt wonderful in his arms.
As he looked into her eyes, he thought he saw something that reflected his own feelings at that moment. Could it be that she was enjoying being in his arms as much as he was holding her? What they were doing went against all propriety. And yet, she was doing it without fear or shame. And, for that matter, so was he.
It caught him by surprise when he realised that his face was just inches from hers. She was looking up at him with wide eyes, and he stopped singing. He stared down at her face, especially her lips, for a long moment.
Kissing her would be the very essence of improper, and it could jeopardise her reputation if they were caught in the act, and he had promised that he would never do such a thing to her. He’d have to, well, marry her. But, he wondered, would it be so bad to have to do that to protect her reputation if they were caught?
“Forgive me, my lord,” she said, pulling away at last, though with noticeable reluctance. “I must leave you now and get back to my work.”
Edward opened his mouth to argue, but she was hurrying away from him and back to clearing away the tables. He desperately wanted to follow her and recapture the moment of the kiss they had almost shared. But then she was gone, carrying a trayful of plates, and he sighed with regret.
Filled with longing, he staggered from the ballroom, up the stairs, and into his bedchambers. He collapsed onto the bed, all thoughts of the ball and Lady Alice replaced with thoughts of Miss White.
As he fell into a drunken sleep, he chuckled to himself; he knew there would be an awful row with his aunts on the morrow, when he told them that he would never marry Lady Alice.
Chapter Twenty-four
