Page 73 of Marry in Secret
“Hmm? Yes, I can dance.”
But there was enough vagueness in his response to prompt her to ask, “Well enough for a ball?”
“I think so. As long as it’s the hornpipe.” He turned a worried face to her. “They do play that at London balls, don’t they? It’s my best dance.”
She had a moment of sheer horror before realizing he was teasing her. “You brute! It’s no joking matter,” she told him severely. Then a giggle escaped her. “You must ask Aunt Agatha that question, but only when I’m there. I can’t wait to see her face. Or hear her response.” Aunt Agatha was still far from reconciled to Rose’s choice of husband.
“Get behind me, Rose,” he said quietly. He was looking at something up ahead.
“What?”
He thrust her against a wall, stepped in front of her and raised his voice. “Don’t come any closer.”
“What? Who are you talk—?” She broke off as two men stepped out of a shadowy lane, one wielding a cudgel.
“No danger, gov’nor, just hand over the readies and we’ll be off.”
“I’m a poor man,” Thomas said. “I have nothing for you.”
Rose was shocked. Thomas sounded almost frightened.
The second man laughed, a nasty sound. “Poor, eh? Well, your pretty little bird don’t look too poor to me. Hand over your jewels, me sweet, or we’ll take—”
“No.” Thomas moved hesitantly toward them, fumbling in his pockets. “Here, I have a little money. Just don’t hurt—” He kicked the man with the cudgel. His knee popped and he went down with a shout. He’d barely hit the ground when Thomas was onto the second man, slamming fists into him once, twice, three times, sending him sprawling into the gutter. The first man stirred. Thomas snatched up the cudgel.
“Want me to bash your brains in? Or do you have enough sense to clear out while you’re still in one piece?” He stepped forward threateningly and the two villains took off, limping and hopping as fast as they could go.
He watched them go, then tossed the cudgel into the gutter. He straightened his neckcloth and smoothed his coat back into place. “Now, where were we? Oh, yes, you were urging me to ask Lady Salter about dancing the hornpipe at your ball.” He offered Rose his arm, quite as if he’d never heard of such a thing as a fight.
“Thomas, that was amazing.” The whole thing hadtaken a bare few minutes. If she’d blinked she might have missed it.
“I’m sorry you had to witness that. I’d heard that the gas lighting had more or less kept the criminals off the better streets, but I see now that was an exaggeration.”
“Thomas, you drove off two men with your bare hands.”
He looked up at the moon. “A few more days and it will be full.”
“I thought at first you really were frightened, but that was just a ploy, wasn’t it? Lulling them into a false sense of superiority.”
“Am I allowed to know what color your dress is?”
“My dress?” She glanced down at her dress. It was quite obviously the same blue it had been all day. It was blue when he’d taken it off her, and it was still blue when she’d put it back on and he’d helped to fasten it. “I don’t understand.” He’d just beaten off two vicious thugs. Why was he talking about her dress?
“Your dress for the ball.”
“For the ball?” She stared at him. “Thomas Beresford, there is no way I can believe you have any interest in the color of my ball dress.”
“Of course I do.”
“Why?”
He looked perplexed for a moment—grappling for a reason, she was certain—and then he said, “Ollie will want to know.”
“Ollie will want to know?” she repeated.
“I’m sure of it.”
She burst out laughing. “That’s ridiculous.”
