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“Well, Ashbourne, that may be the first time I’ve ever heard you referred to as kind,” Dunford said dryly.
“It’s so kind—er, gracious—of you to come tonight, your grace,” Caroline said.
“Indeed,” Belle added, not really having anything to say but feeling nonetheless that something was necessary.
“I trust your sister is well?” Caroline inquired. “We were so upset when she sent her regrets.”
“Sophie is very well, thank you. We had a bit of a scare this afternoon, but everything is all right now.”
“A scare?” Lady Summerton’s eyes grew round with interest. “Whatever do you mean?”
“Her son Charlie was almost run over by a hack. He would have been killed if a young maid hadn’t run into the street and pushed him out of the way.”
Emma could feel Belle’s eyes boring into her. She glanced upward, assiduously avoiding her cousin’s gaze.
“Thank goodness he wasn’t hurt,” Caroline said with obvious feeling. “I trust the maid is all right?”
“Oh, yes,” Alex replied with a grin. “She’s splendid.”
Emma decided that the ceiling was, indeed, highly interesting.
“Is that a waltz I hear?” Alex asked innocently. “Lady Worth, may I have your permission to dance with your niece?”
Emma cut in before Caroline could reply. “I think I’ve promised this dance to someone else.” She was certain she hadn’t promised the dance to anyone, but it was the best she could come up with under the circumstances. She looked desperately at Ned for assistance. Her cousin certainly had no desire to antagonize the powerful duke, and he quickly discovered the wonders of the ceiling that had so entranced Emma moments earlier.
Alex fixed his green stare upon her. “Nonsense,” he said simply. He turned back to Caroline. “Lady Worth?”
Caroline nodded her assent, and Alex swept Emma into his arms. When they reached the center of the dance floor, he smiled warmly down at her and said, “You are almost as beautiful in the ballroom as you are in the bedroom.”
She blushed hotly. “Why must you say such things? Are you determined to ruin my reputation on my first night out?”
Alex raised his eyebrows at her distress. “I don’t mean to boast, but I rather think that as long as I don’t drag you out of the room and ravish you in the garden, I’m only enhancing your reputation. I don’t go to these things often,” he explained. “People are going to want to know why I’m so taken with you.”
Emma had to concede his point. “Nevertheless, you don’t have to make such a show of embarrassing me.”
“I’m sorry,” he said simply. Emma glanced up sharply at his grave tone and was stunned by the stark honesty she found in his eyes.
“Thank you,” she said quietly. “I accept your apology.” She stared into his eyes for a few moments longer and then, uncomfortable under the intimate caress of his gaze, quickly shifted her head and focused on his cravat.
“You might want to smile at me,” Alex said. “Or, if you can’t manage that, at least look up at me. Everyone is watching us.” Emma heeded his words and lifted her face. “Much better. It’s painful, you know, having you in my arms and not being able to look into your eyes.”
Emma didn’t know what to say.
After a few moments, Alex broke the silence. “You can call me Alex, if you like.”
Emma regained a little of her spirit. “‘Your grace’ will do just fine, I’m sure.”
“But I would prefer you to use my given name.”
“I would really prefer not to.”
Alex was glad Emma had a bit of her temper back. She had seemed so forlorn when they began their waltz. “You’ll seem awfully silly ‘your graceing’ me when I’ll be calling you Emma.”
“I haven’t given you permission to use my first name,” Emma reminded him.
“Really, Emma, I hardly think permission is necessary after what we shared less than an hour ago.”
“Must you remind me of that? I would rather forget it.”
“Really? I think you’re lying to yourself.”
“You presume too much, your grace,” Emma said with quiet dignity. “You don’t know me at all.”
“I’d like to.” Alex’s grin was positively roguish. Emma marveled at how a simple smile could completely transform Alex’s face. Just moments before, he had appeared hard and uncompromising, nearly sending Lady Summerton cowering across the room with a single glare. Now, his usual cynicism absent, he was almost boyish, his eyes bathing her in a warm green glow.
Emma felt all her mental capabilities slipping away as he pulled her closer. “I think you’re deliberately trying to overwhelm me.”
“Am I succeeding?”
Emma stared up at him for several moments before she gravely answered, “Yes.”
Alex’s arms tightened around her petite body. “Christ, I can’t believe you said that to me here,” he said, his voice suddenly husky. “You’re too damned honest for your own good.”
Emma lowered her eyes, unable to understand what had moved her to confess her feelings so starkly. “You think I’m too honest?” she said softly. “Well, I’m not finished yet. We met in a most unconventional manner, which is probably why we feel able to speak to one another so bluntly. I think you’re a nice man, but a hard man, and I think you could hurt me without even intending to. I’m only in London for a few short months, and I’d like my stay with my relatives to be as happy as possible. So I am asking you please to stay away from me.”