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“Oh, no?”

“No, I won’t. I don’t much like other men touching what is mine.”

Daphne narrowed her eyes at him. “Yours?” she said, at the same moment that Emily muttered, “Oh, good heavens.”

Edward lifted his hands in surrender. “Please, Daphne. I want to talk to you.”

She sighed. “Very well. But not on the dance floor. We’re attracting enough stares as it is. Come, let’s talk somewhere private. There are a few little reading rooms off the ballroom. We can go there.”

“Daff…” Emily trailed off as she caught her sister’s eye. She heaved a sigh. “Whatever you like, Daffie. I’ll go and find Mama and Anna, and let them know what’s happening.”

A look passed between the two women—a quick, sisterly glance that Edward could not interpret.

Emily reached out, laying a hand on her sister’s shoulder. Then, she was off, weaving nimbly through the crowd, and Edward and Daphne were left alone.

Well, as alone as one could be when crammed into a ballroom, with hundreds of people hemming one in.

“Follow me,” Daphne said, not meeting his eyes. “It’s this way.”

The little reading rooms were an unusual addition to a ballroom. Anna had told Daphne that Mrs. Whitmore headed several literature clubs, and refreshments would be had in the ballroom and reading done in the little alcoves. Ladies only, of course. She was probably breaking some rule, leading Edward into the alcove.

A curtain separated the alcove from the rest of the ballroom. A candelabra lit up the small space, casting flickering shadows over the walls and ceiling. There was a small, square window in the back of the room, closed with a heavy velvet curtain, but doubtless looking over the garden. A single seat was placed by the curtain, and a low settee was set against the wall before a round table, on which the candelabra sat.

There were, of course, bookshelves lining the walls. At another time, Daphne would have liked to inspect the spines, taking out a few interesting-looking books, but she found that she could concentrate on nothing but Edward.

A jolt of relief and desire had flashed through her in the instant she first heard his amused, deep voice. The intensity of her feelings had terrified her. And then she’d turned, and there he was, staring down at her with a hungry look in his eyes. In response to that look, she had felt, and could still feel, the answering pull of desire in the pit of her stomach.

To distract herself, she folded her hands in front of her waist and did her best to meet his eyes coolly and calmly.

“So, then, Edward, what do you want? Or perhaps we should start with how you knew I was here.”

He shrugged. “I knew you’d gone to your mother’s. I went there first, only to find that you were not at home. A little digging revealed that Mrs. Whitmore was hosting a ball. Well, anyone who is anyone attendsherparties, and I happen to know that your sister attends her book clubs. It was a short leap to guess that you would be here.”

She stared at him. “For a man who shuns Society, you know a good deal about it.”

He grinned sheepishly. “A great deal of Society requires only common sense and a little rational thought. Perhaps I shouldn’t have surprised you here, but I… I wanted to see you, Daphne. I wanted to see you so badly that I could not wait.”

She wanted to beam with delight, to throw her arms around his broad shoulders and kiss his cheek. She did not do that, however.

He doesn’t love you. He cares only for his reputation and wants you to come home so that he doesn’t feel guilty. Remember how cold he was.

“If you’re here to convince me to come back,” she said aloud, “you’re wasting your time.”

His face fell. “You won’t come? You must know that I won’t compel you, Daphne.”

“No, I know you would never force me to do anything. But no, I mean quite the opposite. I will have to come back, I suppose. I shall live as a spinster, and you will live as a bachelor. But fear not, I won’t bother you. Alex deserves better. I… I blamed myself for his accident, but I know it was not my fault. Not truly. I’ll come home, so you have wasted your trip here. You can go back to pretending that you do not care for me. Although, of course, it’s not a pretense, is it?”

He closed his eyes momentarily. Was that pain Daphne saw flashing across his face? No, surely not. A man like Edward did not feel pain.

“You mistake me, Daphne,” he murmured. “I did come to convince you to come home, it’s true. But I also came to tell you the truth.”

“The truth? What horrifying secrets are you here to tell me?”

He held out his hands to either side. “Nothing I myself knew, up until yesterday.”

She paused, frowning. There was a strange, haunted look in his eyes, and a sense of unease flitted through her again.

“Edward? What are you talking about?”