“Sure. Sure.” What was becoming of the men of Mayfair? First Trentworth and now Winstead. Neither had seemed any more anxious to marry than Winston was, yet now they were both thoroughly smitten.
“I have to say I am surprised to see you here this evening, Linford. I know you’re not fond of balls.” The viscount studied him more closely. “There’s not a new wager, is there?”
“No.” Winston gave a mock shudder. “I do not intend to participate in another of those.”
“Pleased to hear it.” The viscount shook his head, a lock of dark hair falling on his forehead before he impatiently pushed it back. “I am still amazed that Prue forgave me for the whole affair.”
“It wasn’t our best moment,” Winston agreed, then sent him a pointed look. “Some of us came out better than others.”
His friend grinned. “Indeed. I’m proud to say it was me.” Before Winston could say anything more, the viscount tipped his head toward the door. “There she is.”
Without a backward glance, he was gone.
Winston followed his path toward the door where the viscount’s betrothed, a quietly attractive lady with pale hair and poise, stood looking around the ballroom. To his delight, Millicent accompanied her. Perfect.
Unfortunately, he feared he might have to ask for a dance in order to speak with her. Whether she would agree remained to be seen after his bluntness the other day. She might not want anything to do with him.
He slowly eased closer, biding his time by speaking to other acquaintances. How amusing to note so many newly married gentlemen in attendance. He couldn’t imagine doing so once he was wed.
Or could he?
Why not attend a ball where one had not only a partner with whom to dance but friends to speak with? That wouldn’t be so terrible. All the pressure and expectations of the debutantes and their matchmaking mamas would be gone.
A ballroom wasn’t so different than his club, he realized. Many of his friends were there. Drinks were available, though only champagne. A card game was possible if he wanted one. The pang of longing that tightened his chest caught him by surprise.
Parts of married life sounded appealing. There would be fewer lonely nights in search of amusement. Yet the moment the idea entered his thoughts, echoes of his parents’ arguments rang through his mind and were enough to have him shaking his head. Their heated disagreements had ranged from who had been seen speaking with whom to outlandish purchases to differences of opinions on holiday plans. They had fought far more often than they’d agreed.
Winston sighed, wishing he was different than his father. Wishing that the future as a married man—because he would be one eventually—looked bright. But he knew better. Sooner or later, he would irritate his wife to the point where she wouldn’t want anything to do with him and would be eager to make that clear.
He rubbed a hand over his jaw as a chill swept over him. Arguments, especially public ones like his parents had engaged in, were enough to halt any misplaced wish. He couldn’t allow his temporary attraction to Millicent blind him to the reality he faced, nor did he wish to bring her down with him.
His gaze sought her of its own accord...and he sighed with longing. She looked especially lovely this evening in a lilac silk gown that was simple yet elegant on her slender frame. With a small bustle and ecru trim around the neckline, she looked beautiful. Her hair was swept up into a loose pile on her head with a few tendrils left to frame her face. How surprising that a queue of gentlemen wanting to dance with her hadn’t already formed.
Why was it that so few saw what he did? How poised and refined she was. That her reserve wasn’t necessarily shyness, but rather a watchful intelligence that intrigued him. She wasn’t vivacious or overeager to insert herself into conversations but tended to observe. He wasn’t so different and admired that trait in her as well.
In fact, there wasn’t much he didn’t like about her. The spark between them was an unexpected benefit. That was, it would be if they explored it a little further. But he knew from experience that sparks were quick to fade. They flashed hot and fizzled out soon after. Better that they enjoyed the mutual interest while they could before they both moved on.
He slowly eased toward her, not wanting to wait too long or someone might ask her to dance. Then he’d be left waiting forher return, which might draw notice. He was determined to do everything in his power to protect her reputation.
Well...almost. Avoiding her wasn’t possible at the moment.
To his delight, Viscount Winstead and Lady Prudence made their way to the dance floor, leaving Millicent standing more-or-less alone, though her mother was a short distance away. This was his chance.
He sped his pace and started to walk past her, only to halt as if he’d just caught sight of her—as if he hadn’t been waiting and watching her. Hopefully, his efforts wouldn’t rouse her mother’s suspicions. “Oh.” He looked at Millicent as if surprised to see her. “How nice to see you this evening, Miss Davies.”
Based on her creased brow and puzzled look, his act didn’t fool her. Damn if he didn’t like that. “Good evening, my lord.” She curtsied. “I hope it finds you well.”
He drew closer to bow. “It does now,” he whispered so only she could hear.
A blush rose in her cheeks, and she dropped her gaze, looking to first one side and then the other as if to make certain no one else heard. “I thought our...acquaintance was at an impasse.”
“Not as far as I am concerned. What of you?” He held his breath, hoping she agreed.
She stilled. “I suppose it depends on what you have in mind.” The wary look in her eyes tugged at him, tightening his chest.
He turned aside, drawing a deep breath to clear the uncomfortable feeling, and watched the couples spinning on the dance floor. “Another kiss to begin with...”
“Oh?” Was she as breathless as she sounded?