A familiar scent wafted through the air, a spicy scent of earth and forest. Cedarwood. She was sure of it now, and before she could think to stop herself, she asked, “Do you use Matthew’s pomade?”
“Yes.” One corner of his mouth quirked up. “You can tell?”
“Do you not have your own? I knew that’s what it was when I smelled it in the—” she couldn’t bring herself to finish the sentence and finished lamely, “before.”
He grinned.
“Don’t,” she warned.
“Do you spend a lot of time smelling me, Miss Cooper?”
“Please stop talking.”
“I thought you tried your hardestnotto smell me.” His grin turned impish. “Tell me, do you find my scent favorable tonight?”
That was it. She was going to stay silent for the rest of the night to keep her foot out of her mouth.
“Forget I said anything,” she grumbled, but a smile tugged at her lips. She bit the inside of her cheek to prevent its spread.
There was a vibration in the space between them, and then another.
Mr. Reeves was laughing.
Withdecorum.
“Impossible.”
The scolding remark on the tip of her tongue fell flat as he held her gaze with a genuine smile, as vibrant as the candlelight streaming in a halo around them as they whirled.One-two-three, one-two-three.She didn’t know Mr. Reeves at all, did she? He laughed with Matthew and joked with Caroline, but this was a new side of himself, maybe even one that her siblings hadn’t seen. A smile only for her.
And then it was gone.
His face schooled in a passive expression, but the tension left his shoulders and his touch became lighter.
“Does this count as a hero’s reward?” she asked, her feet gliding across the floor, skirts flared out in a wave.
“It only counts if it’s your idea.” He admonished her as one would to a child that asked for dessert before supper. “I’m not going to do all of the work for you.”
“What if I were to askyouto dance?” Cassandra asked. It was less intimate than a kiss, and her heart flipped at the idea of another. “If it were my idea?”
“Is that something that a lady should do?”
The orchestra slowed its tempo.One, two, three. One, two, three.
“Most likely not, no,” she admitted.
“How scandalous, Miss Cooper.” His lip quirked again. “Whatwillpeople think?”
“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself,” Cassandra grumbled.
“I am.” His voice was low and masculine. His thumb traced the bones on her spine with tantalizing pressure, and a new sensation within her coiled andachedwhen he brought her close to him and whispered in her hair, “I’m enjoying myselfimmensely.”
One. Two. Three.
The music stopped.
And then he let her go.
Her fingers trembled in her skirts as she raised them to fall into a curtsy. Stiff-backed and soft-eyed, Mr. Reeves bowed to her and lifted her hand to kiss the air above it. “It was a pleasure to dance with you, Miss Cooper.”