chest and face.
“I’m sorry.” He loosened his arms. “I should not have held you so closely.”
Oh, how she’d love to say he could hold her how he pleased, but . . . “Thank you.” Their gazes met as she looked up. “As I said, I am not used to dancing.”
His eyes seemed to warm. “It won’t take long before you’re standing up for every set and dancing until dawn.”
“I shall leave that to Miss Corbet. I have more sedate plans.” Such as finding a house she could call a home, and dancing with Lord Stanstead once more.
A few moments later the music ended, and he dropped his arms, releasing her. Suddenly she was slightly chilled. “Thank you, my lord. I have rarely enjoyed a waltz so much.”
“The pleasure was entirely mine, my lady.” He returned her to her cousin just as if she were a young lady. “I shall see you for the supper dance.”
The warmth she had experienced before returned. “I look forward to it.”
He strolled off, but was quickly waylaid by Lady Beaumont and introduced to a young lady. Vivian tried not to feel disappointed. Naturally he would stand up with ladies who required partners, and although he would honor his appointment to dance with her again, she refused to allow herself to want more. That was not the reason she was in Town.
She glanced around the ballroom. At least Lord Beresford appeared to have left, and she would not be subject to him again this evening. She might be better served by writing to him and informing him that she would not entertain another offer of marriage. If he wished to fill his nursery, he had better look elsewhere.
“Vivian?” Clara’s voice brought Vivian back from her thoughts.
“What were you scowling about? If anyone were to see you they’d think you were not enjoying yourself.”
“I’m sorry. I”—she pasted a smile on her lips—“I’m having a wonderful time, or would be if I knew Lord Beresford was actually gone and not merely hidden by this crowd.”
“You may rest assured he is no longer here. I saw Lord Hawksworth take him away.”
Some of the tension in her shoulders receded. The less she had to do with any Lord Beresford, the better she’d feel.
Silvia laughed lightly at a quip her dance partner, Lord Oliver Loveridge, made about having to be careful of bumping into others. From the corner of her eye, she saw Nick Beresford glare at her, and she made a point of smiling brightly at Lord Oliver. Nick stalked out of the ballroom with another gentleman. Well, good. The cur wouldn’t be bothering either her or Vivian anymore this evening.
Silvia had never known him to press his attentions where they were not wanted. Then again, to her detriment she’d discovered she hadn’t known him well at all. And one never knew what his cousin, the previous Lord Beresford, had told Nick—probably nothing about Mrs. Raeford. Normally, Silvia would have thought he’d have known about her. He and his cousin had been close. But since Nick had left Oxford, he had been gone. Except for the month he had spent at Beresford a few years ago. A time she wished she could forget. He was still as difficult as he’d been before. Apparently the army hadn’t taught him anything except how to break the hearts of unsuspecting and trusting young ladies.
Suddenly she was jerked out of her reveries by Lord Oliver’s bored drawl. “My apologies, Miss Corbet. That oaf should not be allowed on the dance floor. He is ruining the line.” His lips formed a sneer. “One wonders how he even obtained an invitation.”
She followed Lord Oliver’s gaze to a young, slightly overweight man who’d turned a bright shade of red. The lady with him was slightly flushed, but apparently exerting a calming influence on him. How dare Lord Oliver denigrate the other gentleman in such a fashion! Handsome is as handsome does, and Lord Oliver had just lost much of his charm.
Well, she would not allow his behavior to stand in her presence. Silvia pressed her
“I’m sorry.” He loosened his arms. “I should not have held you so closely.”
Oh, how she’d love to say he could hold her how he pleased, but . . . “Thank you.” Their gazes met as she looked up. “As I said, I am not used to dancing.”
His eyes seemed to warm. “It won’t take long before you’re standing up for every set and dancing until dawn.”
“I shall leave that to Miss Corbet. I have more sedate plans.” Such as finding a house she could call a home, and dancing with Lord Stanstead once more.
A few moments later the music ended, and he dropped his arms, releasing her. Suddenly she was slightly chilled. “Thank you, my lord. I have rarely enjoyed a waltz so much.”
“The pleasure was entirely mine, my lady.” He returned her to her cousin just as if she were a young lady. “I shall see you for the supper dance.”
The warmth she had experienced before returned. “I look forward to it.”
He strolled off, but was quickly waylaid by Lady Beaumont and introduced to a young lady. Vivian tried not to feel disappointed. Naturally he would stand up with ladies who required partners, and although he would honor his appointment to dance with her again, she refused to allow herself to want more. That was not the reason she was in Town.
She glanced around the ballroom. At least Lord Beresford appeared to have left, and she would not be subject to him again this evening. She might be better served by writing to him and informing him that she would not entertain another offer of marriage. If he wished to fill his nursery, he had better look elsewhere.
“Vivian?” Clara’s voice brought Vivian back from her thoughts.
“What were you scowling about? If anyone were to see you they’d think you were not enjoying yourself.”
“I’m sorry. I”—she pasted a smile on her lips—“I’m having a wonderful time, or would be if I knew Lord Beresford was actually gone and not merely hidden by this crowd.”
“You may rest assured he is no longer here. I saw Lord Hawksworth take him away.”
Some of the tension in her shoulders receded. The less she had to do with any Lord Beresford, the better she’d feel.
Silvia laughed lightly at a quip her dance partner, Lord Oliver Loveridge, made about having to be careful of bumping into others. From the corner of her eye, she saw Nick Beresford glare at her, and she made a point of smiling brightly at Lord Oliver. Nick stalked out of the ballroom with another gentleman. Well, good. The cur wouldn’t be bothering either her or Vivian anymore this evening.
Silvia had never known him to press his attentions where they were not wanted. Then again, to her detriment she’d discovered she hadn’t known him well at all. And one never knew what his cousin, the previous Lord Beresford, had told Nick—probably nothing about Mrs. Raeford. Normally, Silvia would have thought he’d have known about her. He and his cousin had been close. But since Nick had left Oxford, he had been gone. Except for the month he had spent at Beresford a few years ago. A time she wished she could forget. He was still as difficult as he’d been before. Apparently the army hadn’t taught him anything except how to break the hearts of unsuspecting and trusting young ladies.
Suddenly she was jerked out of her reveries by Lord Oliver’s bored drawl. “My apologies, Miss Corbet. That oaf should not be allowed on the dance floor. He is ruining the line.” His lips formed a sneer. “One wonders how he even obtained an invitation.”
She followed Lord Oliver’s gaze to a young, slightly overweight man who’d turned a bright shade of red. The lady with him was slightly flushed, but apparently exerting a calming influence on him. How dare Lord Oliver denigrate the other gentleman in such a fashion! Handsome is as handsome does, and Lord Oliver had just lost much of his charm.
Well, she would not allow his behavior to stand in her presence. Silvia pressed her
Similar Books
