Page 28 of Playing the Scoundrel

They all had a good-natured laugh when Isabel leaned forward. “Miss Follett, I do believe we were briefly introduced before by our mutual friend, Miss Laura Roberts.”

Ah yes. It seemed Henry did owe Miss Roberts something, even if he’d quite happily burned that particular bridge.

Miss Follett nodded. “Yes, of course.”

“How is she? I’m afraid I haven’t seen much of her this season.”

Henry hadn’t cared for the conversation until Miss Follett glanced at him for a moment before pressing her lips into what was undeniably a false smile. “She is as good as can be expected.”

What could that cryptic answer possibly mean?

The strings of violins sounded from the ballroom, providing Henry with the escape he so desired.

“I’m afraid I have to interrupt, as I believe this is the dance you promised me, Miss Follett.” Henry stepped forward and held out his hand.

“Bring her back in a timely manner, will you?” Mrs. Dunn raised a stern eyebrow, making him want to shrink.

“Of course.” Then pulling Miss Follett away from the crowd, Henry leaned down to whisper, “Does that mean we were discovered after the theatre?”

“Mrs. Dunn commented on my pink cheeks once we were alone in the carriage but said no more of it. I’m sure she suspects.” Miss Follett’s tone was clear and even, but she did not appear flattered or bothered. She seemed indifferent.

“As any smart woman would. I’m afraid I was not as discreet as I should have been.”

Finally, Miss Follett looked up at him, and though Henry was certain he would see her regrets or her disapproval, her dark brown eyes were unreadable.

They took their places on the dancefloor, and when the music began, the various members of their set crossed forward and behind and eventually they all took hands. It was insufferable, being unable to have the conversation he wanted to have with her. Could they never be alone again?

Certainly not. For it would lead to the one thing he’d already forbidden.

He’d have to weave it into the dance somehow.

“I’ve actually been meaning to speak to you about that. I feel the need to apologize.”

Miss Follett’s eyebrows shot up, turning her head to him as they took hands and danced down the center of their row. “Whatever for?”

Henry lowered his voice. “Not only was I lacking discretion, but it was also ungentlemanly of me. Something that should never happen again.”

She did not respond for a few dance steps until their hands brought them together again. “Are you saying you didn’t enjoy yourself?”

Henry coughed, straightening his cravat as he looked around the room to ensure their conversation was unheard. “It was a most enjoyable way to spend the evening.”

“Then we are agreed.” She leveled a devastating smile at him. “Please do not worry yourself. If your concern is that I assumed your favor or now have certain expectations, then it would be quite the opposite. I am quite clear on where we stand.”

This time, Henry’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “And where is that?”

When the smirk returned to her lips, Henry longed to touch them, to kiss them, but he refrained. He would have to get used to the sensation of denying himself where this woman was concerned.

“I understand you, Mr. Godwin. You won’t need to meet my parents or be invited over for tea, for I know your goal is not my hand in marriage, so neither of us will be wasting time. You can continue dallying with your widows as you wish, and I will receive gentleman callers to find myself a suitable husband.” The song brought Miss Follett back to standing in front of him. “But I will admit that itwasan enjoyable evening, so in the meantime, we can continue as we have, casually entertaining each other’s company until a line is drawn… or crossed.”

Henry tried to keep his jaw from dropping to the floor. What a saucy little minx. Whatever embers he had previously attempted to smother had now been kindled into a bursting flame with that one word. He couldn’t think clearly for all the resurging of desires and burning thoughts that now confused his once-sound logic. There were rules, from society, from Mrs. Dunn, but there were also desires, and apparently not only on his side. There was no telling what was right and wrong anymore.

The song slowed before the next number, allowing him a moment to reach for her gloved hand and bring it to his lips. “Miss Follett, I’m at your complete and utter disposal.”

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