Page 26 of The Heiress's Daughter
But compliments of that sort made her only more aware of her shortcomings. The dress was lovely and she knew she looked quite nice in it, but she was hardly “ravishing.”
It was a little disappointing of Lord Randall to indulge in such commonplace and meaningless courtesies. Still, he had rescued her from the consequences of her incivility to Walmsley, which allowed her to dance for the rest of the night.
“I suppose this is more guardian duty on Leo’s behalf,” she said.
“Good lord no. Leo knows better than to expect me to attend society balls for his sake.”
She gave him a puzzled look. “But you came to this one.”
He smiled, a dazzling gleam of white under the glittering chandeliers. “I did, didn’t I?” Which enlightened her not at all.
The dance commenced and, it being a country dance, there was no more opportunity for conversation.
For the first part of the dance, Clarissa concentrated on her steps: she and Izzy had taken dancing lessons when they first came to London, but even though many of the country dances were made up of familiar movements, they weren’t always danced in the same order.
But as her confidence in the dance movements grew, her thoughts drifted back to the way she’d dismissed Mr. Walmsley. And the way she’d felt when she did.
How many times had she danced—or dined with orwalked with—men she didn’t like, even some she actively disliked? Simply because it was the polite thing to do.
And while she preferred to be polite, there was no reason she had to beendlesslypolite, no reason she had to endure the company of men she disliked. Especially men who had no real respect for her.
She thought of what she’d said to Maggie Frobisher.Ladies are notapplesto be placed on a shelf, waiting to be picked up at some man’s whim! And if there is any picking to be done, I want to be the one doing it!
At the time she’d surprised herself with what amounted to an outburst, at least from her. It wasn’t like her to be so…so dramatic. But now, thinking about it, she decided they were words she wanted to live by.
She danced on, lost in thought. She was her own person. She could decide what she did and with whom. And what she said. She didn’t need to please everyone. She needed to please herself—oh, not being horridly selfish, but also, not being a doormat.
She had a bit of a tendency to be a doormat, she thought. Like Mama. Izzy never let her get away with it—Izzy was never a doormat. And neither was Clarissa when the issue was important.
Wasn’t her own future happiness important?
But tonight she’d stood up for herself. And it felt wonderful.
It wasn’tpretendingthat was important—it was taking action, even in a small way.
The dance finished. Lord Randall bowed, she curtsied and he led her off the dance floor. Still deep in thought about the way she wanted to be in the future—the new Clarissa—she hardly noticed what he was saying. Usually she was agonizingly aware of him.
He asked something and, assuming he was inquiring whether she was thirsty and would like something to drink, she murmured agreement.
“Good, and then of course we will take supper together afterward,” he said.
She turned her face to him sharply. “What?”
“Well, the second waltz is the supper dance, after all.”
“The second waltz?”
“Yes.” His eyes danced. “I did wonder whether you were listening. Your thoughts were miles away, weren’t they? Nevertheless I’m holding you to it—the second waltz and supper afterward. Consider it a lesson in not listening. Now, shall I fetch you a cool drink? You’re looking a little flushed—attractively so, of course.”
Without waiting for her response—indeed, she couldn’t think of what to say and feared she was imitating Mr. Walmsley’s fish—he signaled a waiter to bring her a cool drink, found her a seat and sat down beside her, crossing one long leg over the other, quite relaxed.
And amused. He knew he’d tricked her into agreeing to waltz with him, and felt no compunction whatsoever.
“You do waltz, don’t you?”
“Yes,” she managed. It had been part of their lessons and she’d even danced it at Almack’s a few weeks ago, with one of the patroness’s approval.
It was one thing to refuse a dance, it was quite another to retract one. She’d broken one rule tonight; she surely didn’t have it in her to break another.
