Louisa saw Mantheria’s face pale at his insinuation, and Lord Sunderland’s cheeks coloured. Louisa touched her throat and wondered if there was something between her friend and the young Duke who was most certainlynother husband.
‘After another heiress, Norwich?’ Sunderland said between clenched teeth. ‘I suppose someone must pay for your many tailors. Lady Louisa, shall we?’
Sunderland offered his hand to Louisa and she took it. They returned to the dance floor and performed the Roger de Coverley. The young Duke did not speak much, for which Louisa was most grateful. It took all her concentration to follow the steps of the figures with only occasional glances at Wick. His partner this time was a small, beautiful blonde, with the sort of curvaceous figure Louisa had always wished for. Instead, she was a beanpole, with small breasts and not many curves to speak of.
Wick, however, didn’t seem too impressed by his lovely partner. His expression was one of long suffering.
‘I see I am not the only one besotted with a Stringham,’ Sunderland said as they clasped arms. ‘Happily, not the same one. How awkward that would be.’
His words surprised Louisa into a laugh, and then she blushed. She’d hoped that her feelings for Wick were not too obvious.
‘They’re not,’ he said, as if he were reading her thoughts. ‘I simply recognise the look of another sufferer.’
Sunderland’s eyes moved from her to Mantheria, who was dancing with an older gentleman. ‘Mayhap your story will have a happier ending than mine. I can assure you that I will do all in my power to assist you. Although Wick is as stubborn as a mule and twice as stupid when it comes to his heart.’
Louisa blinked at him, her own heart sinking a little. ‘Lord Cheswick has made it very clear that he does not wish to court me.’
‘I did that to a lady once too—to my eternal regret.’
She was now sure that he was speaking of Mantheria, who had married another man. Another duke, even.
‘Don’t give in too easily,’ Sunderland said, bowing over her hand at the end of the dance. ‘Love is worth fighting for.’
The Duke led her to the opposite side of the room, where Wick was releasing the hand of the beautiful blonde.
Sunderland bowed to them. ‘Wick, I have brought you your partner for the next dance. Lady Laetitia, would you do me the honour?’
The young Duke then placed Louisa’s hand into Wick’s and offered his arm to the young blonde. They walked away.
Louisa felt a burning heat where their fingers touched and it spread throughout her entire body. She glanced up at Wick, but his expression was unreadable. Perhaps he did not wish to be forced to dance with her by his friend. Embarrassed, Louisa tried to pull back her arm. She didn’t want his pity.
Wick’s larger hand tightened around hers. ‘Shall we?’
She glanced down. ‘Only if you wish to.’
‘I’d rather dance with you than any other woman in the room.’
Shaking her head, she smiled, bemused. ‘I am not sure that is a very high compliment, for I know that you do not wish to be here.’
His eyes met hers. ‘I find that at this moment there is no other place I wish to be.’
Louisa pursed her lips and tried to swallow down her joy. She didn’t want anyone besides Lord Sunderland to know of hertendrefor Wick.
The country dance was a vigorous one. With lots of hopping, clapping and spinning. And every time their hands touched she felt as if she were on fire. A candle burning brightly in the night. Hot and dangerous. When his eyes met hers, she could almost imagine the sparks between them.
The dance, like all perfect things, ended too quickly. Although it had to have been at least a half an hour.
‘What do you think of your first ball so far?’ Wick asked, leading her off the dance floor. ‘You’ve already surpassed every other lady here. You have danced with the three highest-ranking gentlemen in the room.’
She fluttered her eyelashes in surprise. ‘I did not think you held Lord Norwich in high esteem?’
‘The man is made by his tailors.’
‘Is he what they call a Bond Street Beau?’
Wick snorted derisively. ‘A more apt phrase would be a Bond Street Buffoon.’
Louisa couldn’t keep in a trill of laughter.