Читать книгу The Outrageous Lady Felsham - Louise Allen - Страница 13

‘Hmm. His lordship does not like me, I fancy.’ Patrick Layne stood to position her chair so that Bel could see the dance floor more easily.

‘Why do you say that?’ She was pleased with herself for not letting her gaze stray after her partner’s retreating back. Miss Layne was chatting to a chaperon on her other side, so no one could overhear their low-voiced exchange.

‘If looks could kill, I would be laid out at your feet,’ he said dramatically, grinning.

‘Why on earth should Lord Dereham take a dislike to you?’ Bel demanded, genuinely puzzled.

‘Need you ask?’ Patrick stooped to pick up the fan that had slipped from her fingers. ‘I was waltzing with you, and now I am sitting with you. All his lordship gets is a country dance and the privilege of returning you to my company.’

‘But…that would mean he was jealous, and he has not the slightest reason to be.’ Bel was aghast that anyone might think such a thing, with its implication that she and Reynard were in some way involved. Which they were not. Not in the slightest. ‘I hardly know him. And in any case, he chose which dances to ask me for, and we have a waltz later.’

She was protesting too much, she saw it in the amused quirk of Mr Layne’s mouth. The truth was that he too was flirting with her, in a rather roundabout manner. It was all very disconcerting; somehow she had not expected such a thing when she had contemplated her return to society. As a widow she had imagined her attractiveness to men would automatically have ceased. Apparently she was mistaken.

She was saved from any more badinage by Miss Layne returning her attention to her brother and declaring that she was faint from hunger and he must give them his escort to the supper room. Bel was not feeling particularly like eating, but their departure did at least remove her from the sight of Lord Dereham’s elegant progression down the floor with a vivacious redhead.

By the time he came to claim her for their waltz Bel was feeling far from happy. ‘What is it, Lady Belinda? Are you cross with me?’

‘Cross? No, goodness gracious, of course not.’ She was so flurried that he might think it that she was in his arms and waltzing before she could be apprehensive about his touch. ‘I very foolishly let myself be persuaded into eating a crab patty I did not really want, I have just had my toes trodden on by a very clumsy young man in the last dance and I am wondering if my ambition to establish myself in London was an awful mistake and I should have stayed in the country where at least I know what I am doing.’

Reynard swept her competently around a corner and Bel found she had settled into his embrace as though they had danced a hundred times before. For a tall and very masculine man he was surprisingly graceful. Bel had never been quite so masterfully partnered before and she was well aware that for the duration of this dance she was going to go precisely where he intended. She realised that, far from feeling overpowered by this, or resentful, she could relax and simply enjoy the dance, confident that he was in control.

‘You are feeling as I do at the moment about London, I think.’ He gathered her a little closer as an unskilled young couple blundered past, laughing immoderately at their own clumsiness. ‘We have been away, living very different lives. Perhaps it will take a little while to get back into the swing of things.’ Somehow he kept her just that little bit closer to his body, although the danger of collision was past.

‘Yes, you may well be right. No doubt that is all it is.’ Comforted, Bel let herself go as he executed a complicated turn. ‘Oh!’ Her skirts swung, tangled for a moment in his long legs, and then they were gliding down the floor again. ‘You are a very good dancer, Ashe.’