Page 28 of A Gentleman Never Surrenders
Milly huffed, pulling her arm free of his as she stalked ahead of him.
“Oh no, you don’t,” Owen called out. His arms banded around her waist as he caught hold of her from behind.
She squealed in surprise and swatted at his hands but he twirled her around, lifting her enough that her boots skimmed the grass.
“Put me down, Owen. Heavens!” She squealed again as he set her on the ground, then spun her in his arms so that she faced him. The delighted and all-too-smug expression on his face made her want to smack his chest. So she did, but not too hard.
“Why not dance with me?” he suggested.
“What?”
He still held her waist, his grip firm but gentle.
“Dance with me, Milly. Come on.”
It was impossible to deny Owen when he flashed that smile of his. The one that made her chest ache and her knees wobbly.
“You like to dance, too?” she asked.
“More than anything,” he replied, then seemed to reconsider. “Well, almost anything.” He waggled his eyebrows at her.
“You mean…oh!” She felt the red-hot blush flood her entire body.
“Yes, what we did last night is much better than dancing.” He kept one palm on her waist, the other clasping one of her free hands.
“A waltz?” he offered.
She could only shake her head. “This is ridiculous. We are in the middle of a country garden, not in a London ballroom.”
“And that is exactly why we must dance.”
“But we have no music.” She desperately tried to find other excuses. If she danced with him…Her heart thumped wildly at the mere thought of how wonderful it might be.
Owen started to sing, just vocalizing a familiar waltz. His voice was beautiful. Lulled into the spell of his singing and the pull of his arms, they began to dance. The world around them spun in a shimmering haze as they twirled and whirled. The gravel of the garden path crunched beneath their boots and the occasional thrush chirped along with Owen’s captivating melody. He was a wonderful dancer, anticipating her own pattern of steps as though they’d danced together for a hundred years. By the time he finally slowed their steps to a stop, she was humming along with him.
“There now, see? Breaking the rules of propriety can be fun.”
She smiled. She supposed dancing in a garden wasn’t exactly breaking propriety, but she hadn’t thought she would ever do such a thing. He was right, though; it had been fun.
“Now, let’s get to town. I peeked at your list this morning and we have quite a bit to accomplish.”
Two hours later, she and Owen were visiting the last shop, a tiny bookseller, at Owen’s request. Not that Milly would have argued, since she adored books. Owen didn’t hover over her as she perused the shelves. The store didn’t have many of the most current titles but that was no surprise. A small shop, out of the way of London, wasn’t likely to have the latest books. She selected a few classic titles like Ivanhoe and Emma before she went in search of her husband. He was standing by the doorway of the shop, deep in conversation with another man.
Something about their rigid stances made her stay concealed, peering at them from around one of the bookshelves.
“Never thought I’d see you settle down, Hadley. Finally found a rich widow who doesn’t mind paying your debts?” The barbed comment came from the other man and Owen clenched his hands into fists at his sides.
“Brandon, you are on dangerous ground.” Owen’s tone was low but hard as iron.
Brandon laughed. “You went too far when you had an understanding with my sister. When you cried off, it broke her. She’s never been the same, especially not after the scandal with her condition.” Brandon growled. “No man would have her, even though the babe died.” The last was uttered in a vicious growl.
Owen stepped back, his face ashen. Milly covered her mouth, hoping to quiet her frantic breathing.
A baby? He cried off an engagement and left a woman with child?
“It wasn’t my child, Brandon. I broke it off because she didn’t love me. She told me she loved someone else. I let her go. Whoever she was seeing put her in the family way, not I.” The barely restrained fury sparked in Owen’s eyes, so strong that Milly could see it from where she stood.
Brandon squared his shoulders, sneering. “My sister wouldn’t lie. She said it was you.”
