Page 9 of A Baron's Scandalous Quill
“Not embarrassed, sir?” she asked quietly.
“I’m still dancing with you, am I not?”
She smiled a little and slowly started to understand the figures he was leading her through. She concentrated on following him,feeling the strength of his shoulder beneath the palm of her hand and the way their fingers slotted together with ease.
At one point, when he urged her to turn fast to avoid a collision with another couple, the two of them ended up closer together, breathing the same air, her body nearly pressed to his. Her breathing grew faster still, her hands holding onto him all the more.
It suddenly didn’t seem to matter that she’d come here tonight for one reason only: to meet the man who wished to commission her for a story. All she thought of now was the man before her.
The dance passed by too quickly. She smiled at every opportunity, marveling at the ease of his movements around the floor, the way in which he never minded if she went wrong, and how they nearly fell together more than once when she stood on his toe.
By the end of the waltz, they danced as close to one another as they had been when they first collided. They slowed their movements down with the music, bobbing from side to side, staring at one another, not once glancing away.
“That’s quite a dance,” he whispered.
“It was,” she agreed, trying to control her breathing and calm it down as he released her. She tried not to think of the longing shefelt for his touch again as he bowed, and she curtsied; then, he offered his hand and led her off the floor.
“Please, tell me your name,” he whispered as they left the floor. He was leaning toward her, far closer than any other man was doing with a lady in the room. She supposed it was scandalous in this room, but she didn’t pull away.
“It’s—”
“Ah, my lord!” a woman called loudly, cutting across their conversation before Becca could finish speaking. “At last, I have so wanted to speak to you this evening.”
Becca looked around to see a young woman rushing toward them. With dark hair slicked back beautifully across her head, she was striking in her finery. Pearl-drop earrings hung from her ears, and her neckline glittered with gold and gems. Her dark brown eyes zeroed in on the gentleman beside Becca, still holding her hand.
Wait…my lord?
Becca jerked her head around again, staring at the handsome gentleman she had danced with.
I have danced with a titled man. What was I thinking?
“Lady Heather.” He bowed to the woman. “It is good to see you again.”
“Lord Lancaster.” She curtsied just as Becca’s jaw dropped lower.
Lord Lancaster…
The whispers she’d heard earlier that evening repeated in her mind. Someone had spoken of Baron Lancaster and his father, a reprobate, when it came to stealing people’s money. Was it possible she had indeed danced with a baron?
“I have been longing to talk to you all evening.” Lady Heather moved to his other side and took his arm, without asking or waiting for an invitation. The presumption made Lord Lancaster’s eyes widen, but he said nothing in objection.
He simply looked at Becca questioningly, who had to bite her lip not to laugh at his reaction. “You must accept my dearest condolences on your recent loss. To have lost your father so suddenly, oh, it is such a sad tale indeed.”
“Thank you,” Lord Lancaster said, though his response was completely wooden. Lady Heather made the appearance of trying to walk away, drawing him with her, but his feet stayedfirmly locked to the floor, and once more, Becca had to fight her laughter.
“It is my hope that this evening, perhaps I can bring you some smiles in your grief. A reason to be happy.” She pulled out a fan and fluttered it in front of her face.
Becca was rather reminded of a peacock displaying its feathers in order to draw attention from a potential mate. She committed the image to memory, certain that, at some point, the description could prove useful in her writing.
“I assure you, I can find many reasons to smile. I have just shared a dance with this lady, for one,” he said pointedly, gesturing to Becca who now just stood beside them. She flinched, startled to be returned into the conversation.
Lady Heather looked at her sharply, and her rather ostentatious smile began to falter.
“Well, it is a pleasure to meet you.” She curtsied, as did Becca, trying her best not to get in a tangle with the hem of her gown. “Who are your family here tonight?” Lady Heather asked, her tone holding a hint of sharpness, though it was not an overt one. “What are your connections?”
Becca merely stared at her in wonder, once more understanding the way thetonworked.
She is looking for what family money I am attached to. It’s all anyone in this room cares about!
