Page 70 of The Secret Life of a Lady
Regrettably, the Earl of Plynth had other plans.
‘Forgive my impertinence, Miss Ivy Cavendale, Miss Millicent Whittenburg, but I beg an introduction to your lovely companion.’ He tipped forward at the waist, nearly burying his nose in Hannah’s breasts. Grasping her hand, he pressed his wet mouth against her callused knuckles.
Hannah endeavoured not to gag. The man had been availing himself of his own refreshments, judging by the sour scent of gin on his breath.
‘This is our dear friend, Miss Hannah Simmons.’ Millie flicked her fan in a gesture as vicious as a rapier parry, nearly taking off the earl’s nose. He stumbled backward. Hannah wiped her hand against her skirt.
The Earl of Plynth regained his equilibrium and stepped closer to Hannah. His eyes remained glued to her humble cleavage. ‘Allow me to prevail upon you for a dance, Miss Simmons. If your card is not yet full?’ He spoke directly to her neckline.
Hannah didn’t even have a dance card, let alone names to place upon it. She was out of her depths. ‘I…’ Words failed her. It would be far easier to punch the man in his solar plexus than devise a clever evasion.
‘This dance is spoken for. Miss Simmons promised me the next waltz.’
Killian’s deep voice reverberated behind her and sent shiversof awareness across her skin like a warm breeze. Judging by her thwarted dance partner’s wide eyes, Killian’s tone sent different shivers through the Earl of Plynth.
‘Err, of course. Forgive me,’ the gentleman sputtered as he hastily spun and walked away.
Hannah turned to face Killian, her body tingling with awareness. He stood tall and proud in a black dress coat. A crisp, white shirt and equally snowy cravat highlighted his sun-darkened skin. His vest was embroidered with deep-green stitching echoed in the shade of his eyes. Hannah’s mouth went dry. Her belly clenched.
‘Damnation,’ she breathed.
‘Oh my. What a useful trick to rid someone of unwanted company,’ Millie whispered, loud enough for Killian to hear.
Major General Drake, who stood just behind Killian’s left shoulder, snorted rudely.
‘Shall we?’ Killian reached out his hand to Hannah and clenched his jaw.
‘Oh my, indeed,’ Ivy murmured.
Killian grasped her fingers and placed her hand in the crook of his arm, gliding through the crowd to the dance floor.
Hannah’s face heated. ‘Everyone is looking. I don’t… you know I can’t dance.’
‘I know you move like wind through the leaves. Follow my lead, just this once. I won’t let you fall.’ Killian squeezed her fingers and spun her to face him. He placed her hand on his shoulder and clasped her other in his own warm grip as his right hand drifted down to her waist. They stood frozen, suspended in time, waiting for the music to begin.
Murmurs rose around her. She glanced over her shoulder as Lady Hastings whispered behind her fan to Lady Bradford.
‘What are you doing, Killian? A duke does not dance with a wallflower.’
Killian stretched his mouth into a wide grin. His teeth flashed white in the glittering lights and his eyes sparked with heat. ‘A duke does whatever he damn well pleases. And you are no wallflower, my dear Miss Simmons. You are a jungle of wicked thorns and wild blooms.’ He leaned close to her ear. ‘A man could get lost in the colour and scent of you.’
Hannah pressed her lips together to hide their trembling.
Insufferable, perfect man!
How she had missed him.
The whispers around them grew in fervour, but the strains of the strings drowned the gossips out in a melodic swell.
Killian’s arms hardened to granite as his body moved forward. Hannah almost crashed into him. ‘Keep your frame tight, and let your feet flow, Hannah. Remember our dance lesson on the terrace? Read me like you would in a fight. Predict my steps and match them with your own.’ His forest-green gaze burned into hers, and she was lost.
She stopped thinking and let herself slip along the swells and dips of sound and motion. When he spun, she twirled. When he stepped with his left, she followed with her right. Their bodies created a rhythm of advance and retreat, give and take, rise and fall. Their movements as ageless and endless as the tides.
‘I missed you. Every moment that I was gone was a bleak eternity,’ Killian murmured against her cheek.
Hannah was too full of emotion to leave space for words. Relief. Anger. Confusion. Desire.
Love.
