be hurt,” Farthingham assured her. “Weddington is a duke—”
“Which means nothing in Texas and absolutely nothing to me.”
That sentiment was a complete surprise, but then Richard was coming to realize she was a constant source of astonishments.
“Miss Robertson, do you mean to imply that your interest in marrying Farthingham is not dependent on his title?”
Her delicate nostrils flared, and he saw the fury ignite her lovely green eyes. “I would marry Nicky if he were a pauper.”
“I am a pauper, my sweet.”
Regret washed over her features, as she touched Farthingham’s shoulder with slender gloved fingers. She smiled softly. “Not to me.”
He grinned. “Do you see why I adore her?”
“Indeed I do,” Richard said quietly.
“Allow Weddington to have my first dance, Kitty.”
She released a delicate bubble of laughter, an echo of incredulous disbelief. “Don’t be absurd, Nicky. Rumors abound that we are only days away from announcing our betrothal. People will expect my first dance to be with you.”
“When have you ever cared what people expected?”
“I have always cared a great deal.”
Farthingham winked and gave her a gentle nudge. “It’s more important that I dance the final dance with you. Be a sport. Weddington is a close friend. He’ll no doubtserve as my best man once I get around to asking him. I want you to get to know him, and he you. Now come along. Your dancing with him will please me greatly.”
With perfect timing, the orchestra filled the ballroom with the strains of a waltz. The gentlemanly part of Richard knew he should make an excuse and tactfully retreat. The baser side that sought to control the sea held out his gloved hand. “Miss Robertson, if you’ll grant me the honor of a dance.”
She gave Farthingham a brittle smile before placing her hand in Richard’s. He was surprised to find it trembling as though she’d only just emerged from the cold waters off the Cornish coast.
He led her onto the dance floor, grateful when he reached its center that he could at last take her into his arms. When he looked down on her, fury met his gaze.
“You did not tell me you were a duke.”
“You did not ask.”
She scoffed. “I’ve never met a man of rank who did not wrap himself in it like a shroud.”
“You sound as though you disapprove of the nobility.”
“I disapprove of you—pretending to be what you are not.”
Within her eyes, he saw hurt mingling with the fury, battling and winning.
“I never pretended,” he assured her. “I might have omitted some facts—which I believe I am within my right to point out that you did the same…until the moment you dashed away, I was not aware that you were already spoken for.”
He heard his own fury lashing through his voice.
“I did not expect to see you again. I did not want to see you again.”
Again, the sharp prick of disappointment that he did not mean to her what she had come to mean to him.“Smile. Farthingham is watching, and he is too clever by half. I would not want him to wonder why you look as though you are on the verge of weeping.”
It was an amazing transformation to watch, as though she buried every emotion she currently felt and replaced it with the fine veneer of civilization. He was so incredibly aware of her: the warmth that seeped through her gloves, her sweet flowery perfume that wafted between them, the rapid beat of her pulse at her throat. She was graceful gliding across the dance floor within his arms, and he was loath to think of her lying in Farthingham’s bed. While she’d angled her head and was smiling as though she was glad to be with him, her gaze failed to meet his, but seemed to have settled on his chin.
“Why didn’t you tell Lord Farthingham that you’d already met me?” she asked quietly.
“Why didn’t you?”
She lifted her gaze to his, her smile faltering. “I didn’t wish to hurt him. As you said, he’s clever. He would have asked questions
“Which means nothing in Texas and absolutely nothing to me.”
That sentiment was a complete surprise, but then Richard was coming to realize she was a constant source of astonishments.
“Miss Robertson, do you mean to imply that your interest in marrying Farthingham is not dependent on his title?”
Her delicate nostrils flared, and he saw the fury ignite her lovely green eyes. “I would marry Nicky if he were a pauper.”
“I am a pauper, my sweet.”
Regret washed over her features, as she touched Farthingham’s shoulder with slender gloved fingers. She smiled softly. “Not to me.”
He grinned. “Do you see why I adore her?”
“Indeed I do,” Richard said quietly.
“Allow Weddington to have my first dance, Kitty.”
She released a delicate bubble of laughter, an echo of incredulous disbelief. “Don’t be absurd, Nicky. Rumors abound that we are only days away from announcing our betrothal. People will expect my first dance to be with you.”
“When have you ever cared what people expected?”
“I have always cared a great deal.”
Farthingham winked and gave her a gentle nudge. “It’s more important that I dance the final dance with you. Be a sport. Weddington is a close friend. He’ll no doubtserve as my best man once I get around to asking him. I want you to get to know him, and he you. Now come along. Your dancing with him will please me greatly.”
With perfect timing, the orchestra filled the ballroom with the strains of a waltz. The gentlemanly part of Richard knew he should make an excuse and tactfully retreat. The baser side that sought to control the sea held out his gloved hand. “Miss Robertson, if you’ll grant me the honor of a dance.”
She gave Farthingham a brittle smile before placing her hand in Richard’s. He was surprised to find it trembling as though she’d only just emerged from the cold waters off the Cornish coast.
He led her onto the dance floor, grateful when he reached its center that he could at last take her into his arms. When he looked down on her, fury met his gaze.
“You did not tell me you were a duke.”
“You did not ask.”
She scoffed. “I’ve never met a man of rank who did not wrap himself in it like a shroud.”
“You sound as though you disapprove of the nobility.”
“I disapprove of you—pretending to be what you are not.”
Within her eyes, he saw hurt mingling with the fury, battling and winning.
“I never pretended,” he assured her. “I might have omitted some facts—which I believe I am within my right to point out that you did the same…until the moment you dashed away, I was not aware that you were already spoken for.”
He heard his own fury lashing through his voice.
“I did not expect to see you again. I did not want to see you again.”
Again, the sharp prick of disappointment that he did not mean to her what she had come to mean to him.“Smile. Farthingham is watching, and he is too clever by half. I would not want him to wonder why you look as though you are on the verge of weeping.”
It was an amazing transformation to watch, as though she buried every emotion she currently felt and replaced it with the fine veneer of civilization. He was so incredibly aware of her: the warmth that seeped through her gloves, her sweet flowery perfume that wafted between them, the rapid beat of her pulse at her throat. She was graceful gliding across the dance floor within his arms, and he was loath to think of her lying in Farthingham’s bed. While she’d angled her head and was smiling as though she was glad to be with him, her gaze failed to meet his, but seemed to have settled on his chin.
“Why didn’t you tell Lord Farthingham that you’d already met me?” she asked quietly.
“Why didn’t you?”
She lifted her gaze to his, her smile faltering. “I didn’t wish to hurt him. As you said, he’s clever. He would have asked questions
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