And the Miss Ran Away With the Rake(17)

None whatsoever, she mused as she looked into his deep blue eyes, which shone with a rich, dangerous desire for her and her alone.

He was all but telling her who he was.

But not quite.

Straightening, she returned his sally. “I rather thought you had avoided propriety in an attempt to circumvent my chaperone.”

He peered at the edges of the ballroom. “A regular old dragon, is she? I had rather thought the invitation list a tad more exclusive.”

She laughed. “She is well disguised, but don’t say I didn’t advise you. She’s ever so fearsome.”

“I stand warned,” he said, again scanning the room as if he thought to catch sight of this fierce creature.

“Would she have stopped you from asking me to dance?”

His brow furrowed. “How fearsome are we talking? Is she the fire-breathing sort, or just the more common menacing type, all scales and teeth?”

Daphne giggled. “Oh, most decidedly fire-breathing.”

He nodded. “I’ll make a note to fetch my suit of armor before you introduce me.”

She saw her opportunity and leapt in. “And to whom would I be introducing her?”

Yet her partner was just as wily. He shook his head and refused her even a tidbit. “That is up to you to discover, that is if you haven’t guessed.”

“That won’t do,” she told him.

“It won’t? You don’t want to discover who I am?”

“Oh, yes, I would love to know who you are, but it will be ever so difficult to identify you once my chaperone has burnt you to a crisp.”

This made the rogue grin widely. “Then you must endeavor to discover who I am before that unfortunate occurrence, if only to let my family and friends know of my brave demise.”

“And again, whom should I inform?”

“I doubt very much I need to tell you,” he replied. “I daresay you already know who I am.”

“I might,” she admitted.

He leaned down and again his lips were right above the curl of her earlobe. “I knew you in an instant.”

The Earl of Roxley edged over and filled the space vacated by Daphne.

Harriet glanced over her shoulder. “My lord.”

“Miss Hathaway.” He smiled at her. “Enjoying your evening?”

Harriet nodded and tamped down the retort that was even now fighting for an airing.

I’d enjoy it far more if you’d ask me to dance, you lowly cur.

Yes, well, unfortunately ladies were not allowed to be honest in their interactions with gentlemen.

Of course that implied she was a lady and Roxley was . . . Well, Roxley was what he was.

He leaned closer. “Twice, Harry?”

She tucked her chin up and ignored the way his words ruffled her spine.

“I’m surprised you noticed, considering you’ve been absent most of the evening. What is it, my lord, a lack of willing widows to hold your interest?”

Roxley ignored her barb and continued on. “I’ll not say it again; he is not fit company.”

Of course he was speaking of Fieldgate.

She slanted a glance up at the earl, a look that she hoped did to him what his whispered words did for her. “What a relief.”

“How is that?”

“If you are not going to speak of it again, then I shall no longer have to listen to your tiresome lectures.” She smiled and turned her attention back to Daphne, who was dancing with a handsome fellow. And given the bright smile and warm light in her eyes, Harriet suspected she had found her Mr. Dishforth.

“Harry, I’m warning you—”

Harriet lost her patience, wrenching her gaze away from Daphne and her mysterious partner and glaring up at the Earl of Roxley. “Then do something about it, my lord.”

Shoot the fellow. Tell my brothers. Declare yourself.

All the things she wanted him to do.

But what she got was his silence.

His lips pressed shut, his glance flitted away and then he leaned against the wall and pretended he hadn’t heard her.

Yes, there it was. If he wanted to have a say in her life, he would have to do something.

But he wouldn’t.

And for the last three months they had met over and over again and danced on the edge of this very precipice time and time again.

So Harriet danced with Fieldgate and ignored Roxley’s complaints.

Daphne whirled past them, and Roxley straightened up.