you stand up with me, your Grace?’
She was startled. He was close to her now, standing beside her, and she’d never heard him approach. Her heart was pounding in response to his nearness, and it was not because of fright.
He gestured to the dance floor. There was polite interest on his face now. Neither more nor less than she would expect from any of the other men attending.
‘I would be delighted, Mr Smythe.’ She tried to read his face, but it gave no clue. Did he have news for her? She was dying to ask it, but what was the point in swearing him to secrecy if she blurted out the whole truth in a crowded ballroom?
They took their place in the set and he bowed to her, and the music began.
He was an excellent dancer. His steps were sure and his touch light as he guided her down the row. She tried to relax and enjoy herself, but his steady gaze was both pleasant and unnerving. He wanted to tell her something, she was sure.
And found herself wishing that that was not the reason for the intensity when he looked at her. Robert had not cared much for dancing, and was most relieved when other men had been willing to stand up with her in his place. But none of them would dare gaze at her so, with the duke in the room.
She had watched other young ladies, and watched their beaus watching them. She had thought it sweet and tried not to lament on it. Men had looked at her thus once, very long ago, but so long ago that she could hardly remember how it felt.
They had looked as Anthony Smythe was looking at her now. His hand took hers again and he smiled. When it was their turn to wait at the bottom of the set, he leaned closer to her, and said, ‘You are very lovely tonight.’
‘Thank you.’ She wondered if that was the case.
He must have seen the doubt in her eyes. ‘You were lovely last night, as well.’
‘You did not seem to think it at the time.’
‘On the contrary. You were inordinately tempting. But speed was of the essence, was it not? If I had accepted your offer, we would be there still, on the floor of my parlour, too exhausted to move.’
She stared around her, to make sure no one had heard him speak. And, as always, he had taken care that the other guests would know nothing of his scandalous comments, but her delighted blush might make them stare.
‘I am just as diligent and careful in taking pleasure as I am in doing business, and I take care not to mix the two. In the future, there will be ample time to spend together, if you still wish it. But if I had lost myself in you last night, I would have quite forgotten to go to Barton and get the thing that you wished me to retrieve.’
She opened her mouth to speak, and he smiled placidly.
‘Please act as though nothing has happened. Remember where we are, your Grace.’
He was right. Throwing her arms around his neck and begging to see it this instant was sure to incite comment. But she could not help the joy that showed upon her face.
He looked at her, smiled back and said, ‘The look on your face right now is payment enough for me. Have you forgiven me for last night?’
‘There is nothing to forgive. It was I—’
‘Shh. Let us hear none of that. May I visit you, later? With your permission, I will come to your house, to return the thing that concerned you so.’
She whispered, ‘I shall leave here immediately and tell my servants to expect you.’
‘You shall do nothing of the kind. No one need know of what has transpired between us. Enjoy your time here, for Esme is a particular friend of yours, is she not? And this is a delightful ball. It would be a shame to go so soon. Return home after midnight, send your maid to bed and wait for me at one.’
She nodded, wondering how he knew of her friendships, for she had not told him.
And he nodded back to acknowledge her assent and led her through the rest of the dance as though nothing unusual had happened, with an occasional comment about the music, the fine quality of the food, and the fact that summer had been uncommonly warm.
But he continued to fix her with the same intense gaze that had unsettled her before.
He was coming to her rooms later, and in secret. She found the prospect quite exciting. And with the way he was looking at her, perhaps he had decided to mix business and pleasure after all. It was not so surprising, she reminded herself. Despite what they might claim to put one off one’s guard, men had needs and would act on them, given the opportunity.
He might say that he was honoured to help and needed no reward, but he had taken great risk to do what she had asked. She doubted that he would deny her or himself, once they were alone. And try as she might, she could not bring herself to be bothered. Why, if Lord Barton’s offer had been so distasteful to her, was she not offended now?
Because she did not want to lie with Barton, as she did with Anthony Smythe.
The thought of them together warmed her blood. She wanted to feel his hands upon her and see that crooked smile in the firelight as he took her. Her stomach gave a lurch at the thought and her steps faltered.
And he caught her hand and led her on, smiling in curiosity at the look that must be on her face, but making no comment.
Very well, then. Her virtue was not as steadfast as she had once thought. And she did miss the touch of a man, just as everyone kept reminding her.
Everyone except Tony.
Perhaps that was why she wanted him so.
The dance ended and she moved through the rest of the evening as if on a cloud. Her home was safe. Barton had no hold on her. And when she retired, she would have Tony.
When Esme saw her again, as she said her goodbyes, she proclaimed her looking better. The food and the dancing must have done her good, for she was in fine colour. Almost blushing.
Constance smiled the secret back to herself and agreed that she was feeling worlds better, and that she intended to retire early. Then she returned home, prepared for bed and sent the maid away. The lawn of her nightdress was crisp and cool against her fevered skin as she unlatched the window and waited for the clock to strike one.
As the bell was chiming, he stepped over the sill, smiling back at the window she had left open for him. ‘Thank you for the small courtesy, your Grace. It is rare to enter in this way and find evidence that I am welcome. Most refreshing.’
‘Did you find the deed?’ She hurried to his side.
‘What? No “Hello, Tony. So good to see you. Lovely dancing this evening…” No preamble. Small talk? Chitchat?’ He grinned. ‘I supposed not.’ He reached into his pocket and brought out a document, which he laid upon her night table. ‘It is exactly as you said. In your husband’s hand, the house is deeded to you. And here is the attached inventory. Put it somewhere safe. Your bank, perhaps. But do not trust it to that young jackanapes that holds your husband’s title. And do not mention it to Barton until you have to. He will know that someone has got into his study and taken it, and you do not want to be associated with other thefts that might occur there. I will be visiting him again, before my business with him is done, and he will be on guard against me.
‘If you can just stall him for a time, he will forget his plans for you, for I dare say he will have troubles enough soon and little time to pursue you.’
She wondered if this might have something to do with the theft at the ball, but was afraid to ask. Instead she looked down at the deed, which need be her only concern. She swallowed. ‘It is such a relief to know that, no matter what, the house is mine.’
Then she looked at him significantly. ‘And I am so very grateful. How can I ever repay you?’ And she leaned close to him in the moonlight and waited for the obvious suggestion.
He smiled. ‘No thanks are