Page 38 of The Reclusive Earl's Scandal
“Are you nervous, Lord Thornshire?” Rebecca jested, lifting a brow at him, giggling.
“Never,” he answered without hesitation. “I daresay, you are not, are you?”
“I am the most confident woman at this ball,” she told him, but it tasted like a lovely lie, really.
“Oh, really?” He asked, his brow twitching.
Rebecca only laughed in return.
“How are you feeling?” Edward asked after a moment. Together, they both looked out at the ballroom, as if they were too shy to actually regard one another. “You have had quite the week.”
“Indeed,” she agreed. “But I am feeling much better now. Besides, even if I did not I would be here. My mother onlygranted me an excuse from the last ball. I fear she would have chased me out of the house to attend this ball regardless.”
“Nonsense,” Edward muttered. “If you are sick then you are sick. There cannot be any help with such a thing.”
“Do tell my mother that the next time you see her,” Rebecca muttered, thinking of her mother bursting into her room that morning, proclaiming that Rebecca’sweek of moping was over, as if she had not been assigned to bed rest by a physician, as though she had not been truly ill.
“I shall,” he told her. “If you want me to.”
Rebecca turned her head to him, her expression freezing in surprise. “You will?”
He nodded. “After what you suggested the other day, I will ensure to do everything that will make your life more comfortable.”
A jolt of pleasant surprise went through Rebecca at the proclamation. She turned to him, ignoring her complaining about her mother. “Edward, do you recall the time I told you that we could always dance together should you grow tired of matchmaking?”
“Which I have,” he conceded.
She offered her hand. “Then dance with me.” Her words came out shakily. “Dance with me, Edward?”
Clear blue eyes met hers, and he nodded, almost too solemnly for her comfort, but then his hand lined with hers, and he threaded his fingers through hers. Heavens above, she could only hope Catherine could not see such an intimate exchange.
We are just friends, she told herself.Friends who are saving one another from the terrible ways of the marriage mart. We just want to escape it all.
Edward led her to the dance floor. Part of Rebecca truly hadn’t expected him to take her there, but he did, and when they lined up alongside the other couples, she was sure that her gazedid not drift to other ladies, to see who watched, fearing who did. She did not need the rumors spiraling through thetonbefore she got to announce anything.
Least of all she did not need Catherine saying anything.
She didn’t trust her friend anymore, and she could scarcely focus on the sadness of that before Edward had her tugged closer, and their dance began. His hand settled on her waist, his fingers curling around her gown, as they had in the river the day he had saved her.
The minstrels, spread along a dais on one length of a wall of the ballroom, began a new tune, and Edward dipped Rebecca into the new dance. Her stomach gave that same flutter as before, and she tampered it down.It is only because I fear Catherine is seeing us.Truthfully, she felt on display. She wanted to sink into the dance with Edward, to be alone with him, but she felt so exposed. She feltwatched—by her friends, by every suitor she had ever conversed or flirted with.
Yet as soon as she looked at Edward, it all fell away.
Those blue eyes captured her; they whispered sweet things that made her feel as though she could drown in them and remain safe. So Rebecca did, and as they danced across the floor, she let the rest of the room fade out of awareness and worry. There was no point. After all, if all went to plan, they would have to make their betrothal announcement soon enough.
“Edward,” she murmured, but she caught sight of his expression, finding him looking more nervous than ever. “Edward, are you all right?”
“I am well,” he answered hastily, and tightened his grip on her as if she needed that as extra assurance. Perhaps she did. Rebecca nodded, trusting him to tell her the truth in time, for she believed he was not truly fine, but she was coming to learn that he was quite a private man. He would tell her what was on his mind when he was ready. Then again, he might simplybe feeling the nerves of their impending betrothal, if he was inclined to let it go ahead.
Perhaps he, like her, was also worried about the eyes on them.
Did he worry about the repercussions of Catherine witnessing their dance?
She danced with him, and felt his hands on her, and Rebecca thought that she felt steadied for the first time in a very long time. Between her father’s debts, and her mother’s passive ways, she hadn’t felt on solid footing in too long. At least not that somebody else could provide for her. But with Edward… with him, it was different.
They danced slowly to the remainder of the song, and Rebecca felt herself flushing beneath his attention. Soon, they came to a stop. Behind Edward, Rebecca saw other lords gathering at the edges of the dance floor, and she hoped none of them did so with the intention of asking her to dance.
“We could take a turn around the room,” she suggested cheerfully. “It will give us a chance to discuss everything.”
