Page 23 of The Spinster’s Stolen Heart (Willenshires #5)

Nathan drank his champagne in one gulp and immediately regretted it. It was not good champagne, and the sharp fizz scratched at his throat.

The Sinclairs were a family that wished to be considered sociable and wished to invite as many important people as they could, but never quite had the funds to do so. So, they stretched out their money by serving cheap drinks and fewer courses than what might be expected.

Still, they were a decent enough family, and a ball was a ball. Most people accepted the invitations.

Nathan had accepted his because he knew that Pippa would be here.

A full day had gone by since the musicale and their almost-kiss on the balcony. William had not turned up on Nathan’s doorstep demanding a duel and nor had Lady Randall.

Nathan knew that he ought to have called that very morning, and proposed marriage at once. It was the gentlemanly thing to do.

He was a little afraid that Lady Randall would throw him out of the house, however. Perhaps it was best to let the situation calm down.

Perhaps he’d waited too long, because now Pippa was dancing with Lord Barwick.

The man was clearly in his cups. He was staggering around, eyes glazed and red-rimmed. Even from his place in the corner of the room, Nathan could see that he kept treading on the poor woman’s feet. Pippa winced, trying and failing to keep her face straight, and did her best to keep her poor, slippered toes away from Lord Barwick’s stamping Hessians.

Lady Randall was here, of course, and Nathan was rather glad that he hadn’t seen her. His mother had melted off somewhere, and Colin was enjoying his honeymoon. It was easy enough for Nathan to stay out of conversations, and stand quietly in a corner.

His heart was thumping. He had to do something about Pippa. There was no sense going to Lady Randall, who clearly disliked him, and was focused on protecting her daughter’s reputation.

And that’s not uncalled for, he told himself firmly. You ought not to have put her in that position.

An apology was necessary, of course, and to summon up the courage to make that happen, Nathan had drunk a couple of champagne flutes to steel himself.

The dance ended, although Lord Barwick briefly tried to continue, arms and legs jerking out. Pippa flushed red, pushing him none too gently towards the sidelines. Lord Barwick’s mother was waiting, her face unreadable. Nathan moved towards them.

Lady Randall glanced up as he approached, and her eyes narrowed.

Nathan didn’t give her an opportunity to speak. He made only the most cursory of bows and turned to Pippa right away.

“Miss Randall, if you aren’t engaged for the next dance, I wonder, would you care to dance with me?”

There. It was out. It was said. She could demur if she wished.

To his amazement, Pippa’s eyes brightened.

“Why, yes,” she said at once, before Lady Randall could speak. “I would like that very much, Lord Whitmore.”

Nathan allowed himself a breath of relief, and extended his hand. He could feel the glares of both Lady Randall and Lady Barwick boring into the side of his face.

Lord Barwick, however, appeared too drunk to care, or even notice.

The next set was beginning, so Nathan led her to the dance floor at once. It was, he noticed with a twinge of nerves, a waltz.

They took up their positions, facing each other, almost as close as they had been on the balcony the previous night. Pippa was looking up at him, her expression wistful, and he found his breath catching in his throat. He could not look away.

“Don’t worry,” Nathan said, voice low. “I won’t step on your poor feet.”

She bit back a smile. “That is a relief. They’re horribly bruised.”

“You ought not to have had to dance with him while he was in that state.”

She shrugged. “Mama wanted me to do so.”

The music began, and they started to dance.

“First of all,” Nathan said, before he could lose his nerve, “I must apologise for what happened last night. It was most improper of me. I could have seriously compromised you, and it was an ungentlemanly thing to do. I beg your forgiveness.”

She worried her lower lip, still looking up at him.

“Mama said that if you truly cared for me, you would not have done it,” she said, so quietly that he had to lean his head forward to hear.

“Lady Randall is both right and wrong,” he managed. “True, a gentleman would not have put you in such a position, and it is unforgivable. However, she is wrong to say that I do not care about you. May I be frank, Miss Randall?”

“A little frankness is refreshing, I think.”

“I have tried to do things the proper way,” he burst out, aware that their dancing was a little too slow and absent-minded to keep up with the rest. He didn’t much care. “I have tried, and it was a disaster. I know that I ought to speak to your mother, and then let her speak to you, and do things in the slow, dull way that those in Society usually do. But the truth is, Miss Randall – Pippa – I care for you. I believe I am falling in love with you.”

He heard her hitch in a breath, but she did not interrupt, and so he continued.

“I know I should not say it. I know I should do things carefully, the proper way. I have heard that you are betrothed or about to be betrothed to Lord Barwick, and if that is the case, I would not wish to make you uncomfortable. I will be silent on this subject at once, if you wish it.”

There was a brief pause, during which Nathan’s heart hammered against his chest relentlessly.

“I do not wish it,” she breathed at last. “And I am not betrothed to him.”

He let out a sigh. “Then, Pippa, I would like to court you. I wish to do things properly, in the eyes of Society and your family. I would like my intentions to be known, to you and to others. I wish to do things properly , and that means publicly. How do you feel about my offer? If you do not feel the same…”

“I do feel the same,” she said in a rush, and Nathan missed a step, staggering.

Certainly, a courting couple were never meant to be so blunt, certainly not in rushed whispers on a dance floor, of all things. But Pippa’s gaze had never left his face, and there was nothing but hope and happiness in her eyes.

She cares for me, Nathan realised, in a dizzying rush. My feelings are requited.

“Then I will speak to Lady Randall and you, tomorrow,” he said, grinning giddily. “I will inform your mother of my intentions, and I shall speak to William or Katherine, if you wish it. If… If Lady Randall refuses to give her consent, then I shall threaten to tell her that I almost kissed you on the balcony, and then she’ll have to agree.”

Pippa let out a gurgle of laughter, and Nathan beamed.

“I think that is a very fine plan,” she said, her smile threatening to tear her face in two. “For now, though, it will be easier for us both if you do not ask me to dance again. Mama is fairly raging, I think, and Lord Barwick is most unpredictable when in his cups.”

“Of course, I would not wish to cause you distress. I’ll call at ten o’ clock sharp, if I may.”

She nodded. “You may.”

The dance was drawing to a close. Nathan wanted it to go on forever, to keep Pippa in his arms, to see her smile up at him and feel the heat coming from her skin.

A formal courtship, he thought, biting back a smile. She cares for me. She does. A formal courtship will almost certainly lead to an engagement.

Heavens, I’m very nearly a betrothed man.

Mother will be thrilled.

The music ended, the dancers stopped, and so Pippa and Nathan were obliged to stop, too. They bowed to each other as cheers and applause rose up from the watchers. The usual burble of conversation broke out.

The two of them stayed on the dance floor, staring at each other, each unable to break away. At least, Nathan felt as though he could not break away.

However, the moment only lasted for a few heartbeats, before Lady Randall stormed onto the dance floor and dragged her daughter away.

Until tomorrow, Nathan thought, with a secret, happy smile.