Page 19 of Ironvine

If she were changed, it had happened in the last hour, to be sure.

“I thank you, Mr. Montclare.” She sipped the wine, and its warmth blossomed through her. “I do miss our dear friends, Brandon and Justine. I am most impatient to see them again.”

“When do you return to Gloucestershire?”

“Of that, I am not sure. I expect your godson has grown this past year?”

“Indeed he has. He is speaking now. An advanced child for his age.”

She laughed. “Have you taught him how to play a good hand at whist?”

“Oh no, not yet. But soon, I warrant. Quite soon.” They laughed. “You will save me a dance, I hope? If you are not fully claimed for the evening?”

“Are you not claimed for the evening?”

“I can’t say I’ve made an effort.”

“If you’re not in the mood then…” She turned to leave.

He clasped her hand in his. “But I am.” His grip on her hand tightened, his eyes piercing hers as he leaned in closer, taking her breath away. That danger that Thomas spoke of pushed through her like a thick wave in the sea. “Shall we dance this one?” he asked.

“We shall.”

He quickly dispensed with their glasses and led her to the floor.

“I noticed you dancing earlier with the gentleman.” He slanted his head to the left, where Philippa and Sir Reginald were dancing toward the end of the line next to Amanda and her surly husband, William. “Do you know him well?”

“He is a friend of my brother-in-law, Mr. Holyfloke.”

“He is eyeing us quite decidedly.” He’d lowered his voice and laced it with a teasing tone.

“Most probably, he is admiring your ease and facility in the dance, Mr. Montclare.”

His lips curled into a sly grin. “I am a fine dancer, am I not?”

“You are, sir.”

They turned and took each other’s hands and stepped down the line.

She and Charles nimbly kept up with the now faster steps of the dance, neither losing sight of their direction or time with the music.

“I had quite forgotten what a fine dancer you are, sir.”

“Are you saying you’d forgotten me, dear Georgie?” He raised an eyebrow at her.

“No, that’s not what I meant.”

“I’m glad to hear it. How is it that you are not yet married? No young buck has caught your eye?”

“None.”

“What? Matthew Penry already forgotten about?”

“Don’t tease me.”

“Why ever not?”

She stopped. “I’m not a child.”

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