The Shocking Secret of a Guest at the Wedding (Millworth Manor) by Victoria Alexander Page B

course.”
    For a few moments they danced in silence but he was obviously pondering her comments. “It must be difficult work though.”
    “Not at all. It’s quite enjoyable.” She shrugged as best she could in his arms. “Mother and I both enjoy entertaining but there are only so many parties one can give. Planning social events for others provides us with a great deal of variety and an extra bit of pin money.”
    “I see.” There was a slight hint of disapproval in his tone.
    “You think we should do this for nothing?”
    “No, but it’s, well . . .”
    “It’s what?”
    “Somewhat unseemly, isn’t it?”
    She narrowed her eyes. “What makes it unseemly?”
    “You’re charging for your services which takes it out of the realm of an innocent pastime and into the definition of business.”
    “Yes, I suppose one could look at it that way.” His attitude was nothing she hadn’t encountered before. Still, it was most annoying. She smiled and gazed into his eyes. “I prefer to see it as providing assistance to those ladies who can barely manage a household let alone a ball for two hundred people or an evening of music and cards for ninety or a grand, extravagant wedding.”
    “Perhaps but—”
    “And if we did not charge for our services, which as you said makes it perilously close to a business endeavor—”
    He nodded.
    “They would not be the least bit valuable. As much as I hate to admit it, especially to a foreigner, but the upper echelon of society here is frightfully shallow about things like this.” She cast him her brightest smile and changed the subject. “And are you in business as Mr. Elliott is? Another American entrepreneur? A captain of industry perhaps?”
    “Not exactly.” He shook his head. “I’m engaged in banking, in the banking and trust founded by my great-grandfather.”
    “I don’t believe I have ever danced with a banker before.”
    “Yet another factor that makes it more of an adventure for you,” he said firmly. “Although bankers by their very nature are not adventurous men.”
    “And yet you strike me as a man well suited to adventure.”
    “Do I?” He executed another complicated turn. “Why do you think so?”
    She considered him coolly. “For one thing, there is an air of assurance about you. You have the look of a man certain of himself and his world.”
    “And yet, only moments ago, I confessed to feeling completely out of place.”
    “Ah, but you hide it nicely. If you hadn’t said it, I would never have known you were anything other than completely at ease. I suspect you conceal your other secrets equally as well. Which are probably most shocking.”
    “Oh, without question.”
    She smiled. “Which makes you a man of mystery and intrigue.”
    He laughed. “I’ve never been described as either mysterious or secretive and certainly not intriguing.”
    “And I’ve never had gentlemen describe me as an adventure,” she said without thinking.
    “Then they were unobservant fools.” He held her a tiny bit closer than was proper. “And are you a woman of mystery and secrets as well?”
    “No, of course not.” She scoffed, then gazed up into his endless blue eyes. Her breath caught. “Perhaps.”
    He smiled a slow, irresistible smile. A smile fraught with unspoken meaning or promise or something else completely absurd. Something absolutely improper. Something that held the vaguest, tempting hint of true adventure. The music ended and they drew to a stop yet his gaze still locked with hers. “Then I was right. You are an adventure.”
    For a long moment she stared at him, lost in his smile and his eyes, ignoring a voice in the back of her head telling her enough of this nonsense was enough. Noting she had things to attend to. Chastising her for allowing this stranger to hold her spellbound. And yet there was something about him, something in his eyes, something unknown, something perhaps quite wonderful she was loath to abandon.
    A throat cleared