Page 6 of The Wildcat and the Rogue (The Shifter Season #8)

JANE

Chatter fills the room, from courting couples to gossiping mothers, it's all adding to the intensity of the noise around me. When I'd first gone to a ball in Scotland, I'd been excited by all of this, and looking forward to all of it. Now, things are different.

Despite knowing I should not, I find myself searching the ballroom for Ewan.

Mr Milne .

I must remember to try and put some distance between us, even in my head.

"Who are you searching for?" Harriet asks, making me jump.

"No one," I murmur.

She raises an eyebrow. "Is it Mr Milne?"

I swallow hard. "Of course not. Why would you even suggest such a thing?"

"You seem to enjoy his company," she responds.

"He is a good dancer." At least that is the truth, even if it is only part of it. The real truth is that I have been enjoying my dances with Ewan, but it is hardly because of his ability to remember the steps.

"You can tell yourself that if you wish, but that doesn't make your feelings any less plain."

"You may be married, but that doesn't make you an expert on love, Harriet." The moment the words are out of my mouth, I regret them. "I'm sorry, that was cruel of me."

Harriet offers me a weak smile. "The fault is mine, I didn't mean to pry into something you don't wish to speak of."

I swallow hard and look away so she can't see the tears pricking at my eyes. I never imagined I'd find someone I could trust in London, but I need to give her the benefit of actually doing so. "It's not something I ever expected to tell anyone," I admit softly.

"Oh?"

"I lied to you before. I know Mr Milne far better than just by his family. We were on the verge of courting when I left Scotland."

"Ah."

"Though even then, I don't believe the description is entirely right. I cared for him." I swallow hard. "I still do."

"Why did you leave? Mr Stoaly says that he's the son of a baron, and his only heir. Wouldn't that make an excellent match? Unless you're secretly the daughter of a duke or something."

An amused laugh escapes me. "I am not. That would be quite something. I don't wish to discuss the reasons I left Scotland, but let's suffice to say that they mean that I cannot marry Mr Milne. Not that I am not ruined," I add hastily. "We have never kissed."

"Perhaps you should."

"Harriet!"

"If there is something I wish I'd done before Lady Stoaly trapped me in marriage to her son, it was to kiss him and truly let it been through my own doing."

I raise an eyebrow. "I didn't realise you felt yourself to be trapped."

"I don't," she assures me. "But I am not foolish enough to believe that Lady Stoaly would have chosen to do something similar had I not already had affection for her son. She wished for my fortune for their vicounty, my feelings were rather irrelevant."

"I cannot imagine Mr Stoaly took that well." I don't know her husband well, but every time he looks at her, I can see how much he cares.

"Not particularly. Though it is of no matter, we both got what we wished for and it is better to just let things be. Perhaps things could be the same with Mr Milne? London is not Scotland."

"It isn't," I agree. "But the reason we can't marry persists."

"Perhaps it isn't as bad as it seems..."

"His father is the reason my family is on the brink of destitution," I whisper hastily, checking around us to make sure no one is listening in. It would be a disaster if anyone were to hear as much.

"Oh, Jane."

I shake my head. "So there is nothing that can be done about it. Ewan took no part in the scheme, but how would it look? Everyone back home would know and think that I was just some pity bride, chosen to placate a family who has lost nearly everything. It's not an option." Even if there is a part of me that wishes it to be.

"Jane..."

"It is fine."

"No, Jane, he's coming." Her gaze slips to someone behind me.

I take a deep breath and turn around, finding Ewan striding towards me with a confidence that can only come from knowing that he is utterly charming. Something I cannot refute.

"I can get Mr Stoaly to accompany you onto the dance floor if you wish to avoid him," Harriet whispers.

"That is kind, but there is no need."

"Miss Whisking," Ewan says, nodding his head. "Mrs Stoaly."

"Mr Milne," Harriet responds, a curious note in her voice.

"I was hoping you had this dance free, Miss Whisking." His gaze meets mine, and I can see all kinds of things in his eyes that I wish I couldn't. He holds out his hand, and without thinking about it, I place mine on his.

"It would be my pleasure."

He leads me onto the dance floor while Harriet watches us intently.

"Should I be concerned that I've done something to offend Mrs Stoaly?" he asks as we take our positions.

"No. We were just talking about you when you arrived."

"All terrible things, I imagine."

I laugh despite myself. "It is more than the things I said disappointed her. She's a romantic who found herself accidentally in love with her husband."

"That sounds like quite a story."

"It's a story as any of them are," I counter. "She and Mr Stoaly found each other to be good company. She was in search of a husband, preferably one with a title to please her family, he was in search of a wife with a fortune. They weren't aware that they were precisely what one another were looking for, but Lady Stoaly was and orchestrated it so that the two of them were caught alone together."

"How scandalous."

"Quite. They are happily married now."

"If only it were that easy for the rest of us," he says, his gaze boring into me.

I clear my throat. "Unfortunately, some of us are in possession of neither a fortune or a title."

"And I am only in possession of one," he quips.

I laugh. "I believe you aren't in possession of either as of yet."

"I could have made a fortune."

"I suppose that's true."

We lapse into silence as the other dancers take their places around us. The music begins to play, and the couple at the top of our set start to dance. I watch for a few moments, making sure that I've correctly noted which dance we're doing. I'm normally well versed in them all, but there are some that are popular here that are rarely seen back home, and I don't wish to make some misstep that will draw attention to me.

"I have a question for you," Ewan says.

I look at him and raise an eyebrow. "What kind of question?"

"Do you know Lady Whistripe?"

"I know of her," I respond. "Assuming you mean the wife of Lord Whitstripe?"

He nods.

"The extent of my knowledge is that she's a badger shifter. She normally sticks to the events that are solely for married ladies, rather than attending balls with the rest of us. I believe she has no daughters in need of chaperoning."

"Ah."

"You seem disappointed."

"It is nothing," he responds.

I eye him warily, not knowing what to make of either the question or his dismissal. He holds out his hand as our turn in the dance approaches and I take it, wishing that neither of us were wearing gloves. It's not something I should be thinking about, but sometimes, it is impossible not to.

"Is Lady Whitstripe your next victim?" I ask.

"I don't have victims," he responds firmly.

"Then what would you call the people you steal from?" I hop forward, moving around him and through the moves of the dance.

"I wouldn't call them anything," he responds.

I raise an eyebrow but don't question him further. Despite having caught him in the act of stealing a few times, I've always found it hard to reconcile my view of who Ewan is as a person with the idea of him as a thief.

Though I suppose his father certainly proved his duplicitous character. Perhaps the two of them are more alike than I first thought.

And yet, there's still a part of me that desperately wishes to trust Ewan, even if I know I shouldn't.