Always a Maiden (The Belles of Beak Street #5)(12)

Or so exclusively. He wanted to grind his teeth. She was offering the same banal conversation she would offer at a ball. She’d remarked on the decorations, the weather, and the costumes. He’d had far more interesting conversations with her in the corridor and in the stairwell. “Perhaps you’d like to dance with the harlequin.”

Although harlequin might be overstating the costume as it was just a diamond patterned domino. She watched as the man slid his hand over his partner’s breasts while they were executing their turn. He’d been doing it every time they circled. The woman laughed.

Susanah gasped, and then said, “I think not.”

He could have offered to dance more like the harlequin, but there was an appalled note to her voice. In an uncharacteristic moment, she stumbled.

Evan steadied Susanah. Perhaps he shouldn’t have brought her here. Perhaps it was too much for a virginal, young lady. He glanced in the direction that seemed to occupy her attention and his heart froze. Was that the Marquess of Weatdon?

“That man looks very like my father,” she whispered.

“It isn’t,” he lied. He had to get her out of the same room. He steered her to the edge of the floor and moved to tuck her hand in his arm. “Let’s go get a drink.”

“We shouldn’t leave in the middle of the music,” she said.

“The rules don’t apply here.” He half wanted to throttle her. She was so proper, it would take a lot to jar her out of her rigid behavior. “You need to relax.”

Then again, telling her to relax wouldn’t help. He was mildly grateful she didn’t point that out.

Obviously, he hadn’t hit on a pastime that excited her. Cracking through her fastidious comportment might take more than a little effort. Knowing what inspired her would help, but she kept him at arm’s length with her controlled bland answers.

As he steered her toward the refreshment room, she seemed far more interested in the dancers than in him. A woman in a diaphanous gown with no discernible undergarments swept by them. Susanah gasped and turned to gawk at the woman completely stopping their progress. He put his hand on Susanah’s head and turned it in his direction.

“She’s nearly naked,” whispered Susanah.

“Well, she is here to pedal her wares,” he said. “And display them. Are you shocked?”

She tightened her grip on his arm. “Did you bring me here to shock me?”

“No. I brought you here to dance because it is the only place I could bring you to dance under the rules you’ve laid out.”

“I see.”

Did she? He pulled her into the mostly vacant refreshment room where a single footman stood behind a table with an open champagne bottle and glasses. “I mistook dancing as something that you might enjoy.”

“But I do enjoy it,” Susanah protested. “I am enjoying it.”

“You sound as though you are making quite an effort at convincing yourself of that. It appears you don’t have any great love of it.”

“I don’t understand. Am I not doing the steps correctly?”

“Too correctly.”

“How is it possible to do something too correctly? Or should I be encouraging”—her chin dipped and her whisper shrank to almost nothing—“improper touches?”

“Only if you want to be touched so.”

Her chin dipped even further. “I thought you were to teach me…such things.” On a puff of air, she added, “Passion.”

“Passion, my darling, is something you must find within yourself. It is not merely going through the motions of offering up your body.” He held up two fingers to the footman, who promptly poured two glasses.

Susanah glanced in the servant’s direction as if just noticing the man. “We shouldn’t be talking so in front of him…” she whispered sternly.

Evan took the glasses and moved to a far corner of the room where they sat at one of the abandoned tables. Whatever supper had been served had been before their arrival. The food had long since been cleared away.

Perhaps she would have been passionate about the food. Or the puddings. He absently wondered if Susanah liked sweets, but he suspected not. There was certainly no indication of indulging on her figure. If anything, she was rather slim, which certainly suited the fashions of the day. “He won’t guess who you are, and if he did, he wouldn’t say anything.”

A boisterous group entered the room. Amidst laughter and ribald comments, they fortified themselves with champagne—clearly not for the first time. It was a late enough hour that the company had thinned, although the revelries would continue for some hours yet. He recognized several of the men and moved his chair so his back was to them. With any luck, they would drink their wine and leave. Thank the Lord, her father wasn’t among them.

Susanah leaned toward him and said, “The scandal sheets get their information somewhere. My mother says it is best never to give a servant fodder for gossip.”

A twinge of sympathy cut through his impatience. “So do you spend every moment being perfectly behaved?”

Her gaze jerked to his as if the group behind him had caught her attention. “It is my duty to behave as I ought.”

“Yet, you are shirking your duty tonight.” He touched her arm above her glove.

She pulled her arm away so quickly her champagne sloshed out of her glass. Then she stared at her arm as if it had somehow offended her. He had no idea if she regretted pulling away or her reactions were so ingrained she didn’t know how to not pull away. He nearly rolled his eyes at his folly. He should take her retreats at face value. A woman who wanted to be touched didn’t retreat hastily at every touch. She hadn’t leaned that last little bit into a kiss in the stairwell, either.