Page 32 of Provoked

“Oh, quite,” Elizabeth agreed merrily, and he thought how very almost-pretty she looked when she was amused and how much he simply liked her. It occurred to him then that hecouldactually imagine being married to her. He would never desire her, but he would be fond of her and respect her, and she could give him so much. A place in the world, a family, a home. The only thing there would never be between them was passion.

And would that even matter? Would he miss that?

Would she? She was a gently reared girl after all. She wouldn’t expect passion in her marriage, would she?

For a few moments, the strangely appealing thought took hold. Perhaps Balfour was not as wrong as David had first supposed when he suggested that David could marry this girl. Perhaps he was capable of the sort of compromise that marriage would entail.

Was he? Capable of setting aside his unnatural desires forever?

His heart sank. He knew he wouldn’t be able to do it. He wouldn’t want to lapse, but he would do so. He only had to remember the way he’d felt when he’d seen Balfour across the room earlier this evening; how it had felt, suddenly, as though there was no one else in the room. How desire, hot and swift, had risen in him. Those feelings were very different from the tepid protectiveness he felt for this girl. Those feelings were deeply compelling, demanding, all-consuming.

“Mr. Lauriston?” Elizabeth was looking at him with raised brows, and he realised, embarrassed, that the dance had come to an end. He bowed hurriedly and Elizabeth curtseyed; then she set her hand on his arm, and he took her back to her seat.

Two more ladies had joined the group by the time they got back, an older, handsome woman who was deep in conversation with Mrs. Chalmers, and a beautiful girl of around twenty with black hair and skin as pale as new-fallen snow. She was several inches taller than the other ladies in the group, and her striking amber-coloured eyes were level with David’s own when Elizabeth introduced them.

“This is my very particular friend, Miss Isabella Galbraith,” she said. “We went to the same ladies’ seminary and have been friends for a few years now, haven’t we, Bella?”

Isabella smiled remotely. “Yes, the very best of friends.”

“And this is Mr. Lauriston,” Elizabeth continued. “He’s an advocate, Bella. He’s working on a case with Father just now.”

“I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Galbraith,” David said, bowing over the lady’s proffered hand. “Perhaps you would do me the honour of dancing with me later?”

“Of course,” she replied coolly. She consulted her empty dance card and, after an almost insulting pause, suggested a set to which David politely agreed. Once that was taken care of, she turned away to speak with her mother again. Elizabeth frowned at her friend’s back, plainly disgruntled on David’s behalf. When she glanced at David again, it was with an apologetic expression, and he could see she was caught in a quandary. If she made excuses for Miss Galbraith, she was acknowledging that the other girl had indeed been rude. And since David had maintained a blank expression throughout their exchange, Elizabeth wasn’t certain he’d noticed. She wasn’t to know that David cared little what Isabella Galbraith thought of him. He only wanted a chance to talk with her to see what, if anything, he could discover from her.

The starting up of the orchestra for the next set saved them both from an awkward exchange. David excused himself and made his way over to where Catherine Chalmers sat to claim her for the next set. She stood up quickly, apparently pleased to get away from the two matrons she was sitting between.

It was a more complicated dance this time, and it took all of David’s concentration just to get the steps vaguely right. Catherine kept him mostly correct with sharp nudges to his side, tugs of his sleeve and hissed instructions. By the time the dance was over, David was sure he must have more than a few bruises.

He led Catherine back to the group of ladies to discover that Balfour was there, speaking with Isabella Galbraith, Mrs. Galbraith and Elizabeth. Balfour’s gaze sought David’s as David led Catherine towards them.

“Good evening, Mr. Lauriston,” he said. “Are you enjoying the dancing?”

David smiled politely, consciously disguising the jittery excitement that danced in his gut at this, his second sight of Balfour this evening. He was good at hiding his nerves. The first few minutes of any court hearing were always torture for him, but he’d learned to take deep, calming breaths without inflating his chest or obviously taking in air. He’d learned to bear silences—silences were necessary if you were to get hold of yourself so that your voice, when it emerged, was calm and clear and certain.

“I am not much of a dancer, my lord,” he replied. “But the ladies have taken pity on me.”

There was a duet of protests at this from Elizabeth and Catherine.

“It seems the ladies disagree,” Balfour pointed out with a smile.

“They are very kind.”

“Did you come alone this evening?” Balfour asked then. His expression held nothing beyond mild curiosity, but David couldn’t help thinking the question was significant, and that Balfour meant him to realise that. That he knew already that David had come with someone. Possibly even why that person was here.

“I came with a friend.”

“A friend?”

It was an invitation to disclose more, but David had no intention of saying anything beyond that which was entirely necessary.

“Yes—and I should go and find him, actually. Please do excuse me.” Without waiting for a response, he bowed to the ladies, including them all in the polite gesture, then turned around and walked in the opposite direction, his heart pounding. Immediately, he felt foolish. He should have stayed longer, observed Balfour with Miss Galbraith, tried to get a sense of how well they knew each other. He’d allowed his own nerves to chase him away and wasted an opportunity in the process.

It was already past nine o’clock, and he had to walk round the ballroom twice before he found Euan, skulking on the fringes of a large, merry group, none of whom appeared to notice he wasn’t with them.

“Where have you been?” Euan muttered, peeling away from the group when David approached. “I waited at the pillar for ten minutes. I thought you’d gone.”

“I told you I was going to dance. I danced a set with each of the Chalmers girls, so that took a bit of time. And I’ve got to go back and dance with Miss Galbraith soon. Did you get any closer to Lord Murdo?”