Page 31 of The Heiress's Daughter
No, better just to seek out her company at every opportunity and let her draw her own conclusions. Just as long as he made it clear to her that Leo had nothing to do with it.
He glanced across the dance floor and gritted his teeth. He also needed to warn her about those wretched fortune hunters that Lady Scattergood had been allowing to call. And about that villain, Vibart. She was dancing with him now—and what the devil had he said to make her laugh so?Andmake her blush, the swine.
But if he did try to warn her about Vibart and the others, might it strengthen the impression that he was acting the guardian in Leo’s place? That would make her withdraw from him even further.
Blast it, he’d never been so indecisive in his life!
Once he held her in his arms and had her twirling about the ballroom, he’d know what to do, he was sure. Follow his instincts.
He glanced at the dance floor and gritted his teeth. His instincts currently urged him to strangle Vibart.
Fed up with the sight of Miss Studley dancing and being charmed by coxcombs, rakes and wastrels—and what the hell was her chaperone doing to allow it?—he took himself off for a brisk walk around the courtyard.
After a time he heard the country dance drawing to a close. The next dance was the waltz she’d promised him.He reentered the ballroom and glanced around. Ah, there she was—again with that scoundrel Vibart, who was standing far too close to her. And she was blushing again, blast the man.
As he approached, Vibart glanced up and smiled, a sly, knowing smile. “Randall, I understand you have the honor of dancing the next waltz with this delightful young lady.”
“Yes, the supper dance,” Race said.
“I’m desolate to be so deprived of her charming company,” Vibart said. “Truly, I doubt you appreciate the honor she’s done you. A dozen men here tonight—myself included—would happily duel you for the chance to sup with the lovely lady,” he added with an intimate smile at Miss Studley. Who blushed. Again.
“I do appreciate it,” Race said, annoyed. “And she made her own choice.”
“AndI’m right here,” Miss Studley said quietly, “and perfectly able to speak for myself. Lord Randall, shall we?”
“Indeed.” Race presented his arm and led her onto the dance floor just as the opening chords of the dance sounded. Her lips were pursed tight. She seemed annoyed. Was it because of Vibart’s fulsome compliments? Or had she fallen for them? Vibart was held to be very charming. Race couldn’t see it himself.
“You know he’s a notorious rake, don’t you?”
She shot a sideways glance at him. “He’s not the only one.”
Race blinked. What other rakes had been pursuing her? What the devil did that chaperone think she was doing, letting Clarissa be hounded by rakes?
“Please, I don’t wish to discuss it,” she added before he could say anything. “Let us just enjoy the dance.” Facing him, she placed one hand on his shoulder and presented her other hand. He took it and placed his hand lightly on her waist, waited several beats, then twirled her out among the swirling crowd.
She was a little stiff at first, but her body soon softened,responding easily to his leadership. Her responsiveness delighted him; no doubt she would be equally responsive in other areas. He ached to draw her closer, but knew he must restrain himself. She was so sweetly shy.
But whether it was the effect of the music or his carefully respectful embrace—though he hoped it was his proximity—she almost floated in his arms.
But she neither talked nor looked directly at him; in fact after a few passing glances she seemed to close her eyes. Bashfulness, Race decided. The waltz was a very intimate dance, after all. They danced on, and he felt her relaxing in his embrace. She was his to command—in the dance, at least. Her expression was…dreamy. She was light as a feather, soft as a cloud.
He silently cursed the others in the ballroom; he ached to hold her properly in his arms.
He decided to draw her out a little.
“You’re very light on your feet,” he said.
She blinked, as if startled, and gave him a shy little smile.
He tried again. “A natural dancer, in fact.”
“I do enjoy dancing.” Her gaze roamed past his shoulder, presumably observing their fellow dancers and, when it returned to him, dropped immediately to his waistcoat.
“You’re admiring my waistcoat?” he murmured.
“It’s just that the bottom button is undone. It’s distracting.”
“How shocking. My valet will be mortified.” After a moment he added, “Perhaps you could button it for me.”
