But this man wasn’t like that, she was sure. He seemed perfectly aware that she was doing her best to freeze him out. And it seemed to amuse him. Which was very annoying.
She was also very aware of the warmth and strength of the arm on which she’d laid her gloved hand. Just to be polite. And that was irritating, too. She didn’t want to be aware of him. She just wanted him to go away.
Somehow he’s more attractive than the really handsome men here. It was true. She would feel much more comfortable with a useless, pretty man. This one . . . His mere physical presence unsettled her. As for those all-seeing gray eyes that kept capturing hers and making her forget where she was. She was too . . . too conscious of him.
They finished their second circumnavigation of the room, and she was determined it would be their last. Just as she was casting around for a reason to excuse herself, music began in the second reception room. She started. Almeria hadn’t mentioned any dancing. Where was Lucy?
Lucy had told Alice that she knew how to dance, but that she’d never been to a proper dance or a fashionable ball. Alice knew from her own experience that there was a wealth of difference between country dancing as it was done in the actual country and the way people danced country dances in society.
She scanned the room quickly. There was no sign of Lucy.
“Would you care to dance, my lady?”
She shook her head. “Thank you, no. I am here tonight en chaperone.”
“Ah, yes, the goddaughter who has so intrigued young Thornton. Looks like she’s joined the dancers in the other room. We’d better follow them in.” Before she could say a word, Alice found herself being propelled toward the second reception room, his hand lightly resting in the small of her back. “There she is, with your nephew,” Lord Tarrant murmured.
Alice made a small sound of dismay. Almeria would be furious.
Gerald and Lucy were on the dance floor, the dance quite lively, but their expressions told a different story. Lucy looked perfectly indifferent, even bored. Gerald was obviously frustrated.
“Miss Bamber doesn’t look as though she’s enjoying the dance,” Lord Tarrant said.
“She’ll be minding her steps,” Alice murmured. She hoped it was true.
“Our hostess looks even unhappier about it,” Lord Tarrant observed.
Alice followed his gaze. Almeria stood at the side of the dance floor, glaring at her son and Lucy. Almeria swung her gaze around the room, fixed it on Alice, standing at the entrance, and stalked toward her.
“Oh dear,” Alice murmured.
Lord Tarrant glanced down at her. “Trouble on the way?”
“I’m afraid so.” Alice took a deep breath and braced herself for Almeria’s tirade.
“Right then.” Lord Tarrant took Alice by the hand and, without warning, swung her into a nearby set of dancers.
“What on earth?” she gasped. But the dancers around them happily adjusted to an extra couple in the set.
He swung her around masterfully. “Do you dislike dancing?”
“No, but—”
He twirled her in a circle, and she was too breathless to speak.
The top couple danced down the row, and everyone clapped to the beat. After a quick glance at Almeria, fulminating on the sidelines, Alice clapped along obediently.
“I told you I had no intention of dancing tonight,” she told Lord Tarrant when they met in the next movement. Almeria would be even more furious now, imagining that Alice had deliberately thrown Gerald and Lucy together. And was now avoiding her.
“I know, but the situation called for action,” he said solemnly. His eyes gleamed with amusement.
She snorted. “Action?”
“Retreat and regroup—an old army tactic. Avoid a confrontation unless you can be sure of winning.”
“Since when is dancing an army tactic?”
“Oh, Wellington is all for dancing—all his staff officers were excellent dancers. It’s a very healthful—and strategic—exercise,” he said with a virtuous air that fooled her not at all.
She wanted to laugh, but she didn’t want to encourage him.
“Besides,” he added as they came together again, “did you really want to stay and listen to whatever that woman has to say to you? She looks ready to explode.”
Alice didn’t, of course, but Almeria would say her piece eventually. She always did.
“As for being here en chaperone,” he continued, “isn’t this a much more agreeable way of keeping a close eye on your charge?”
“Agreeable for whom?” she said tartly as she circled gracefully around him.
Those gray eyes had a wicked gleam in them. “For me, of course. I wouldn’t dare speculate about how you might feel. I don’t yet know what pleases you.”
Yet. As if he planned to discover what pleased her. No one had ever cared to discover what pleased her.
He was flirting. He was definitely flirting. And she had to nip it in the bud before he got ideas. She wasn’t that sort of widow.
* * *
* * *
Her first ever ton party, and she was dancing with a lord. Papa would be thrilled. Lucy was decidedly unthrilled.
Of all the lords in all the houses . . . And for him to be Lady Charlton’s nephew!
Had she known this party was for the arrogant fellow she’d encountered on the Brighton road, she’d never have come; she would have pretended she had the headache or something.
As it was, she’d done her best to avoid talking to him. She’d deliberately caused him to be swamped by marriage-minded debutantes, distracting him from looking too closely at her. And had turned her back on him and flirted madly with the two old fellows. Old sweethearts they were, too.
She’d been about to quietly slip away, but the minute the music sounded in the next room, Lord Thornton looked at her over the heads of the other girls—he was annoyingly tall—and asked her to dance. By name, so there would be no mistake.
Curse him. If he hadn’t been a lord, and she hadn’t encountered him on the Brighton road that day, she would have accepted like a shot. He was rather good-looking, and despite the fuss the other girls were making of him, he didn’t seem too big-headed.
But he was wrong for her in every way possible.
She’d pretended not to hear, but the clot of eager debutantes had parted like the Red Sea, leaving a clear path for Lord Thornton to step forward and repeat his invitation.
She’d looked around for Alice, but she was occupied talking to her tall admirer. So with all eyes on her, and it being the first dance at a birthday party for this wretched lord, Lucy had no option but to accept.