Lady Allerton's Wager. Nicola Cornick

steering her through the crowded room with one hand resting lightly in the small of her back. Beth was sharply conscious of his tall figure close beside her, so close that her skirt brushed against his thigh as they walked. She tried to move away a little but found that the press of people forced them together. She could feel the warmth of his touch through the thin muslin of her dress, and suddenly she felt hot and vulnerable. It was no state in which to begin a dance, and when Beth heard the waltz striking up she almost turned tail and fled.

      ‘No need to look so terrified, sweetheart,’ Marcus murmured in her ear. His voice was warm and persuasive. ‘I promise to behave!’

      A strange shiver went down Beth’s spine. She did not dare look at him. She reluctantly moved into his arms and felt only slightly relieved when Marcus held her at an irreproachable distance from his own body and made no attempt to draw her closer.

      They started to circle the floor in time to the lilting rhythm of the music. The faces of the guests spun past them, curious, avid, amused, sharp, and spiteful…It seemed to Beth that the music was whirling faster and faster and that the flickering candlelight washed over them like a kaleidoscope of black and white. Marcus’s face was in shadow, his expression inscrutable, almost distant. Yet despite his apparent coolness Beth could feel a current of heat running between them, intense and strong. She shivered again, convulsively.

      Beth had intended to keep a decorous distance between them and to avoid the intimacy of conversation during the waltz, but some compulsion made her glance up into Marcus’s face as they completed their second circuit of the floor. His gaze met hers for a split second and now it was dark and heavy with a passion he made no attempt to conceal. Beth caught her breath on a little gasp and almost lost her footing. Immediately Marcus’s arms tightened about her, pulling her into sudden and shocking contact with his body. His cheek brushed hers, hard against the softness of her skin, causing a feeling of helpless, wanton warmth to flood through her. Beth shuddered in his arms, unable to prevent her body betraying her with its trembling. She saw Marcus’s lips curve into a smile, felt his own body harden with arousal against hers and thought that she might well faint with shock and sheer, sensual delight, there in the Duchess of Calthorpe’s ballroom in front of one hundred and fifty people. It was terrifying but also strangely exhilarating all at the same time, and she was thoroughly confused. She did not risk looking at Marcus again.