Page 5 of Gentlemen Prefer Heiresses
“I once thought the same thing about your father. Yet here I am.”
Chuckling, he leaned down and kissed her cheek. “I am not proper husband material, Mother. All your machinations will not get me to the altar.”
“I want merely to see you happy.”
Happy seemed to be the word of the day. “I am. Very much so. I’ll be even happier when I can slip away into the night, which I shall do as soon as I’ve taken on the obligation of Father’s dance.” She opened her mouth, and he gave her a stern look. “I’ve already stayed longer than I intended, and I have much merriment awaiting me elsewhere.”
“You need a purpose, Andrew.”
“I have one. To have a jolly good time.” He lifted his eyebrows as the music faded. “And it appears this dance has come to an end. The next is Father’s waltz. I must see to my duty.”
Laughing lightly, she shook her head. “Go on and enjoy the dance, then depart to have your fun elsewhere.”
“Oh, I plan to.” And he left her to go in search of his dance partner.
Frannie Mabry, Duchess of Greystone, felt the hand close lovingly on her waist and the soft kiss on the nape of her neck.
“Are you sure it’s wise to encourage him to have an interest in the girl?” her husband whispered near her ear, his warm breath fanning over her cheek.
“Never before have I seen him look as though he has spied something he cannot have.”
“And if he hadn’t been willing to take my place—after you put my name on her dance card—what then? You are well aware the only one with whom I’m comfortable dancing is you.”
“We’d have worked something out,” she assured him. “But I know my children. Andrew comes across as a bit of a rapscallion, but he has a good heart.”
“Unfortunately I’m not quite certain it’s whole, Frannie, darling.”
“I fear it won’t be until he opens himself up to loving again.”
For a good part of the Season, Gina had lamented the scarcity of suitors and dance partners, not fully convinced Tillie’s reputation was to blame. This evening, however, she’d already changed her slippers twice because she’d worn out the soles. Every dance had been claimed. She was looking quite forward to the next one—her waltz with the Duke of Greystone. Knowing of his failing eyesight, which few did, she was rather certain she’d be able to convince him to sit this one out or at the very least step out onto the terrace for a bit of fresh air.
Although standing at the edge of the dance floor, searching for him, she was beginning to wonder if perhaps he’d forgotten about the dance he’d claimed—or rather that his wife had claimed for him. She was fairly certain signing the small dance card would no doubt have been a challenge for him.
When she saw Andrew striding in her direction, she couldn’t seem to stop herself from stiffening. Silly girl. No reason to believe he was actually going to approach her. His next dance partner was no doubt in the vicinity. She fought not to care or to wonder who she might be. His partners thus far had surprised her as two had been older and the third was on the verge of receiving a marriage proposal if rumors were to be believed. Not the sorts in whom she’d expect him to take an interest. The flamboyant seemed more his style.
While he smiled and nodded at several ladies, his gloved hands remained at his side, did not reach out for a partner. Perhaps he was merely heading for the terrace, although there was a more direct path.
Her stomach tightened as she realized his gaze was homed in on her. His blue eyes seemed to glow with amusement as he came to a stop in front of her and held out his hand.
“My father has grown weary. Perhaps you’d be willing to allow me to dance in his stead.”
No, no, no.They’d danced once before—at the ball where Rexton proposed to Tillie—so she was well aware that being held by Lord Andrew caused strange flutterings to take up residence throughout her body.Yes, yes, yes.Because those flutterings were quite pleasant indeed.
Based upon what she’d overheard earlier on the terrace, she should rebuff him and his overtures. Before she could work out the exact words for the caustic remark that would put him in his place, she heard herself say, “If that would please the duke.”
With an arched brow, he glanced down at his extended hand. Reluctantly she placed hers in it, trying to ignore the warmth seeping through the kidskin as he closed his fingers around hers. The first strains of the tune began to fill the air as he led her to the center of the dance floor.
When his hand landed gently on her back, she was at once grateful for the low cut of her gown and wishing it went all the way up to her hairline. As she placed her hand on his arm, near his shoulder, she was as astounded by the firmness of his muscles as she’d been the first time they’d danced. While he was lean, he was strong and fit. Placing her other hand in his, she tried to ignore how very close they were. And the fact he was quite possibly the most graceful partner she’d ever had.
“I noticed you danced twice with Somerdale,” he said.
“I’ve danced with a lot of gents.”
“Not twice.”
She took some satisfaction in knowing he was not only watching but counting. Especially as, to her mortification, she’d been doing the same thing with him. “I would dance with him more often than that, but dancing with a gentleman more than twice is scandalous. Having survived Tillie’s scandal, I have no wish to deal with one of my own, so alas I must limit my dances per gentleman to two. However, I am flattered you noticed.”
“Do you fancy him?” he asked.
