And the Miss Ran Away With the Rake(16)

“I’ve found reasons to stay.”

“Reasons? Might those reasons be regarding a certain gentleman?”

“They may,” she said, smiling at him.

The man glanced around the room, making a grand show of searching for someone. “Need I worry he’ll arrive and take grave offense to me holding you so close?” As if to prove his point, he moved her even closer.

Oh, good heavens, if Lady Essex found her lorgnette before she found her vinaigrette . . .

“I do believe he is already close at hand,” Daphne advised him.

“Indeed?”

“Indeed,” she told him.

“Is he a gentleman?”

She nodded.

“Like me?”

She smiled, “Yes, most certainly like you.”

“I don’t think we ever truly established that I am indeed a gentleman,” he reminded her.

“I know you are.”

“How so?”

Daphne leaned back a bit and took a critical glance at his ensemble. “A coat reveals everything about a man.”

“It does? What does mine reveal?”

“The cut is excellent but not overly fussy. The wool is expensive and well dyed. The buttons are silver, and the diamond in your stickpin is old. An heirloom, I would venture. Tasteful, but not overly large or showy.”

“Which means?”

“You are no Dandy whose tastes exceed his income. You prefer sensible and well-made over the latest stare. You have an excellent valet, for your coat is perfectly brushed and your cravat well tied. I have no doubt you’re a man of breeding and refinement. A gentleman.”

His eyes widened in amusement. “Indeed?”

“Indeed,” she replied, her insides quaking. Was she flirting? She’d never flirted before in her life. Coming from a family of extraordinary beauties, the sorts who inspired poetry and duels and heated courtships, Daphne had always considered herself quite ordinary. And far too practical to flirt.

But not when this man looked at her.

“You are a forward minx,” he was saying, shaking his head.

“Not in the least,” she shot back. Daphne had to wonder if he was testing her. . . . She raced through all the lines she’d memorized from Dishforth’s letters.

Which meant nearly every one.

Would Dishforth make such an assessment? More so, would he be inclined to like her being brazen?

She truly didn’t need to worry, for this man, this unknown cavalier, leaned down and whispered into her ear, “I find you perfect in every way.”

He lingered there, ever-so-close, as if he might be about to kiss her. If she dared turn her head, tip up her lips, would he?

Already his warm breath was sending shivers down her spine, as if his hands had traced a dangerous line down her back and freed her from the confines of her red silk, leaving her naked to his touch.

Naked? Daphne tried to breathe. What was wrong with her? Dishforth was expecting a sensible, respectable partner.

I opened my window tonight and called to you, softly and quietly, certain the breeze would carry my plea to you. And then I waited. For you to come and stand beneath my sill and implore me to follow you. I would, you know. Follow you. Into the night.

Well, mostly sensible and respectable, she conceded. In her own defense, she’d written those lines far too late into a sleepless night, and after one too many comfits.

They swirled and turned about the dance floor. Near the edge of the crowd, beside that invisible line which divided the dancers from the rest of the crush, stood Tabitha and her beloved Preston.

Daphne and her partner whirled past, and in a blur, she watched first Tabitha’s mouth fall open, then Preston’s.

There wasn’t even time to mouth the words, I think this is him. But if the expression on Tabitha’s face, a mixture of amazement and shock, said anything, Daphne felt assured she’d uncovered the man she’d risked so much to find.

Then her partner echoed her very thoughts. “I have been searching for you, my little Miss Conundrum.”

He had?

“You have?” she gasped, then tried desperately to rein in her hammering heart, all the while adding another check to her list.

He’d been looking for her. If that wasn’t enough evidence . . .

Daphne, don’t get ahead of yourself, that ever-present voice of reason warned.

“Of course,” he told her. “That is why we needed no introductions.”