Page 89 of The Viscount Who Vexed Me

“Is something the matter?” he asked as he moved her around the floor, drawing her closer.

“Are you mad?” she whispered hotly. “I shouldn’t be your first dance. The first dance sends a message to the world about your intentions.”

“Does it?”

He sounded almost cavalier. More people joined them, and Hattie risked looking at him, half fearful she would melt with want, half fearful she would scold him. “You are singling me out. People will make something of it.”

“Let them,” he said, and pulled her closer. “You are my friend, aren’t you? I need you now. I need a Perseus, and you have spared me the choosing of someone else.”

“But I haven’t been spared,” she told him. “They will all hate me.”

He smiled at her.

“Stop smiling at me like that.”

“I can’t help it. I’ve never seen you afraid.”

“I’mnotafraid, I’m—”

“It’s a dance, Hattie. A single dance,” he said soothingly. “No one will remember it by the end of the evening, but at this moment, everyone is watching. Now, help me present a commanding presence and the air of someone who is confident and suave.”

“You don’t need me for that. You present a commanding presence no matter what you do. I will never forget the first time I saw you.”

“Really?” he asked, interested. “And when was that?”

She felt herself smiling, too. “If you must know, it was through a shop window. And there you were, commanding and aloof and with a definite air of superiority.”

He laughed and twirled her around. “I remember the first time I saw you, too. It was in my study, and I thought you average in looks and bearing, and with the confidence of a bloody mule.”

Hattie snorted. “What a lovely compliment.”

“But as the days went on, you became larger than anything else in that study, and more lovely every time I looked at you.”

“Now you’re making me blush.”

“That’s what friends are for,” he said, and twirled her again.

Hattie smiled. “Is that what they are for? And to think that all this time, I’ve had it wrong.”

His smile deepened, and Hattie felt something powerful pass between them. Something so familiar, yet so new. Something much bigger than her.

The dance was coming to an end. He let go of her, and she instantly felt adrift. He led her off the dance floor. She curtsied.

He bowed. “Thank you. I hope we have an opportunity to speak again this evening.” He walked away.

She watched his mother descend on him, clearly unhappy. And then Lady Sarah Grandview was on his arm.

Hattie turned and walked in the other direction, aware of the eyes on her, aware of the question on everyone’s lips—who was she? And why had she garnered the first dance?

She kept her gaze down until she was away from those crowded around the dance floor, and only then did she look up—

And right into the eyes of Queenie Rodham. “Well,well,” Queenie said. She was looking at Hattie like she’d never really seen her before now. “Why is it the viscount asked you to dance before anyone else, I wonder?”

Hattie tried to laugh as if it was a trifling thing, but sounded a bit like a horse. “Because he is acquainted with me, that’s all.”

“Not in that way,” Queenie said, and Hattie knew what she meant—he was acquainted with her as help. Not a dance partner.

“Where did you get this dress?” Queenie demanded.