Page 28 of The Wallflower’s Great Escape (The Wallflowers’ Revolt #1)

T he air inside the ballroom felt warmer than it had before, or perhaps it was simply that Georgie’s blood was still humming from what Jason had said.

She followed him back through the doorway, the familiar strains of a waltz rising up to greet them, and for the first time all evening she was acutely aware of how close he walked at her side.

She could still hear his words echoing in her mind. I married you because I wanted to.

Perhaps it shouldn’t have mattered, and yet it did. It mattered far more than she cared to admit. Not to mention the fact that he’d called her Georgie. It felt perfect the moment the name left his lips.

She kept her chin high as they moved through the crowd. The hum of gossip still surrounded them like gnats, fans fluttering, voices dropping to conspiratorial whispers, heads turning wherever she passed.

And yet now, instead of feeling suffocated by it, she found herself standing just a little taller.

Because at her side was the man who’d told another gentleman tonight—in no uncertain terms—that anyone who spoke ill of her would answer to pistols at dawn.

That was…something. He may not have fallen to his knees and declared his love for her. She hadn’t expected that. But it meant something that he’d stood up for her.

They paused near the edge of the dance floor, and she reached for her fan to give her hands something to do.

The waltz swelled to its peak before the musicians let the final notes drift into silence, and a smattering of applause followed.

Then another waltz began.

Jason glanced at her then, his expression unreadable.

“Will you dance with me, Lady Pembroke?” he asked, his voice low enough to keep the question just between them.

She hesitated for the barest moment, then slipped her glove-clad hand into his. “I suppose I ought to,” she murmured.

The corners of his mouth curved, not quite a smile, but something close.

He led her onto the floor, his hand warm and firm at the small of her back as they joined the other couples already moving to the graceful rhythm.

It wasn’t the first time she’d waltzed, of course, but it was the first time she was aware of every single point of contact, the press of his palm, the faint brush of his coat against her skirts, the steady weight of his gaze.

Around them, she could feel the stares, hear the whispers. But tonight, she found herself almost daring them to look. If they were going to gossip, let them. She wasn’t going to cower in a corner while they did it.

Jason’s eyes found hers as he guided her through a particularly tight turn, and for a moment she forgot what she’d been thinking entirely.

The music, the murmur of voices, the whispers, they all fell away until it was just the two of them, moving in perfect time.

When the final notes faded and the couples began to clap once more, Georgie caught sight of Poppy and Bea near the edge of the floor, their eyes shining with something between delight and mischief.

After the music stopped, they both waved her over with such unladylike enthusiasm she couldn’t help but laugh under her breath.

“I believe my friends are conspiring,” she murmured as she curtseyed to Jason.

His mouth curved faintly again. “I have no doubt,” he replied.

She stepped away to join them, glancing back just once to find him watching her, his expression softer than she’d ever seen it.

For the first time since this entire ordeal began, she felt…almost as if she might make a perfectly wonderful countess.