Page 16 of Diamond of the Season (Heiress #1)
Chapter
Sixteen
N athaniel strolled around the ballroom floor, greeting guests and ensuring everyone was enjoying his first ever hosted ball. The evening was meant to celebrate Rosalind's coming out, but it was also a milestone for him, having never held a ball before in his life. So far the night had gone well without any trouble, and everyone appeared to be having a jolly good time.
Rosalind stood out among the revelers. His ward had barely rested between dances before she was whisked away by another handsome, eligible gentleman. Her laughter and radiant smile as she moved about the dance floor was a sight to behold—even if the gown she wore was hideous and suited her not one iota. Yet her smile, her lively manner when she spoke, and the eagerness on the gentlemen's faces as they danced with her only accentuated her natural beauty. Nathaniel caught himself several times halting in his stroll around the room, mesmerized by her beauty and content to simply watch her and revel in her charm.
Damn it all to hell, he needed to get a hold of himself. What kind of man would he be if he seduced his own ward? A woman placed in his care through no fault of her own, only to be taken advantage of by him. Not that she seemed to mind his kisses, but he could not allow that to happen again. If he started kissing her at every chance that presented itself, he would not be able to stop, no matter what society called him when they found out. And eventually society would speak up. There was little that escaped the gossip-hungry matrons of the ton .
He rejoined Lady Smithe, who stood alone, and turned to once again watch the dancers on the floor, or at least one in particular. He was doomed for failure.
"Lady Smithe," he said before he could think better of it, "would you care to dance with me?"
Her ladyship beamed at him, and a little apprehension ran down his spine. He hoped Lady Smithe did not read more into his offer than it was—a simple kindness to fill some of the time they had left this evening at the ball.
"How lovely for you to ask, Your Grace," she replied as she placed her hand on his extended one. "I shall like that very much. "
He led her out onto the ballroom floor and soon they were dancing, weaving through the crowd and laughing with the other couples enjoying the country-dance.
"How well you dance, Your Grace. You ought to do it more often. I am more than a willing participant. We are friends, are we not?" she remarked.
That blasted term friends would haunt him, he was sure, before the night was out. "We are, my lady, but I fear that if we do partake in too many turns about the room, we shall cause a scandal. No more than two sets is the limit, is it not?" he replied.
She smiled and shrugged. "I do not see the need in only two. We have known each other long enough that no one would suspect anything untoward is going on between us."
She looked at him with an air of wickedness, and his stomach lurched. He appreciated Lady Smithe and all she had done for Rosalind, not to mention that she was the sister-in-law of his closest friend. But more than that, he could not offer anything. Surely she understood he had never seen her in a romantic light. She was a beautiful woman, to be sure, but not the kind who had ever ignited a flame within him.
Before he could speak further, the dance separated them and he reached for his new dance partner only to be paired with Rosalind. He pulled her into his arms, closer than he ought, relishing the feel of her so near after being away from his side most of the night. He could smell the intoxicating scent of jasmine, and he breathed deeply, knowing he would never walk past that climber again without thinking of the woman before him—sweet, and perfect as the white flower that blossomed on it.
Her cheeks were flushed from dancing, and her eyes shone with happiness. "Have you been enjoying yourself?" he asked, though she did not need to answer, it was obvious she had.
"Very much so, Your Grace. This night has been the most exciting of my life. I do not think I shall ever forget it," she replied.
Her most exciting night of her life? What about their kiss? Had that not been the most thrilling adventure she had ever experienced? He shook the thought aside, reminding himself not to be a jealous cur. He ought to be glad she enjoyed her many dance partners, for they might lead to more—even possibly a proposal. The thought of her marrying and leaving filled him with a sour taste, and he tore his gaze away from her, searching for any distraction from the beauty he held in his arms.
"There will be many more nights just like this evening. I promise you as your guardian that it will be so," he said.
She did not respond, and after several heartbeats during which he could not help but glance at her, he did so—a mistake the moment he allowed his eyes to wander. She watched him, her large almond-shaped eyes fixed on his with such intensity that he was certain she could read his mind and uncover all the secrets he fought to hide.
"How delightful, and while we're on the subject of my suitors, Lord Issacs has asked me to accompany him in his carriage tomorrow afternoon. We're to take a ride around Hyde Park at the fashionable hour. My maid will accompany us," she announced.
Nathaniel attempted to speak, his mouth drying at the thought of Rosalind going anywhere with anyone but himself. What the hell was his friend playing at? He knew he could not keep her locked away in this house. She was a debutante, a woman stepping into society for the first time. This was her debut, a ball he hosted so that she may find a match.
He could not now turn around and say she could not go anywhere with a suitor. But his friend? The thought of him whispering sweet nothings in Rosalind’s ear made the blood in his veins run cold.
"Are you certain that is such a good idea so soon into your Season? If you are seen about the park with Lord Issacs, other gentlemen may believe your heart is already spoken for and their desire to court you will be halted. I should hate for you to have only one option for a gentleman admirer," he warned.
She frowned before the dance carried her away. He danced with Lady Elliot and then again with Lady Smithe, before once again reaching for Rosalind.
"I do not believe that will be so,” she replied as if they had never been separated. “Everyone in society, as I understand it, knows the rules of courtship and that a lady will not promise anything to anyone unless she has received permission from her family or guardian. No one will think that because I took a turn about the park with Lord Issacs, that I have set my cap at him."
"And if he tries to kiss you in the park, forcing your hand into marriage, what then?" Nathaniel wondered aloud. He did not know where that fanciful thought came from, but once it entered his mind, he could not shake it. What if Issacs or anyone tried to force intimacy on Lady Rosalind without her consent?
He ground his teeth, vowing he would call them out and stop anyone who dared to lay even an inch of a finger on her.
"I shall have my maid present, Your Grace. There is no risk.”
He growled, pulling her closer than he ought, determined to keep her safe and his alone. The thought propelled him forward until he stumbled before righting himself. "Apologies, Lady Rosalind. My mind is elsewhere," he said.
She raised her brows with an amused smirk on her lips. He frowned, disliking the notion that she might be laughing at him and his possessiveness.
"Clearly, Your Grace." The dance shifted, and he prepared to let her go. "We shall discuss the matter after the ball. I am not certain I can give you leave for such outings."
She moved off into the dance without another word, and he took Lady Smithe by the hand. The conversation was not over, nor could he see himself allowing such an opportunity. If she wished to go about the park, maybe he would be best to do so first. Not some marquess who was not fit to lick her silk slippers. The thought shamed him. Lord Issacs was a good man and friend, and that was the rub of it. He’d invited him to have good company while Rosalind was courted. Nathaniel had not foreseen that he too would throw his hat into the courtship ring.