A Spy's Devotion (The Regency Spies of London #1)(35)

“There is nothing to forgive.”

Julia gave a tug on her hand, hoping to escape the man before too many people noticed them talking so quietly or overheard them. Besides that, she didn’t want to see him cry.

Finally, he let go of her hand.

“Excuse me,” she said as she turned away from Mr. Dinklage and nearly bumped into—

“Mr. Langdon.” She couldn’t help smiling but then saw that he was eyeing her with raised brows.

“Miss Grey.”

Would he tease her about Mr. Dinklage? He seemed about to but instead said, “Would you do me the honor of dancing the next set with me?”

Julia nodded but then immediately felt guilty at the pleasure his asking her to dance afforded her. She must not appear to enjoy his company so much. She tried to suppress her smile and behave as she would if she were dancing with any other gentleman present.

His hand was warm on her back, his other hand firm but gentle on hers as he pressed it. Her cousin Phoebe would be devastated to know that Julia thought about Mr. Langdon every day, even when she tried not to, and that on Tuesdays, Julia looked forward more to meeting him on the street than to actually calling on the Bartholdys.

Forgive me, God.

Julia took her place on the dance floor opposite her handsome partner, for he was especially well looking tonight with his dark coat and snow-white neckcloth against his sun-darkened skin and side whiskers as black as a chimney sweep’s.

Something caught Julia’s eye, and she glanced to her right. Aunt Wilhern sat with such a scowl on her face that Julia was assaulted with a stab of guilt.

The joy instantly drained from the dance. Did Aunt Wilhern think Julia and Mr. Langdon were being flirtatious? He certainly never wore that smile when he danced with Phoebe. What if her aunt and uncle believed Mr. Langdon was enamored of Julia? Would her uncle cast her out of the house? Even Phoebe wouldn’t defend her when given a choice between Julia and Mr. Langdon.

Mr. Langdon danced masterfully, graceful for one so tall and broad shouldered. Julia watched his face but refused to smile back at him. She pictured him married to Phoebe, the two of them content together. If such an event took place, Julia would be practically his sister. In that event, she could speak freely with him, friend to friend, and not even her Aunt Wilhern could criticize or resent her then. That thought was not unpleasant.

But of course, the idea of his marrying Phoebe was not quite as far-fetched as it had once seemed. He did sometimes seem to show a bit of a preference for her cousin. Therefore, Julia would need to be extra careful how she conducted herself with the man. She couldn’t control the way he looked at her, however, and the way he was looking at her could very well be the reason for her aunt’s scowl.

As soon as the dance was over Julia would get well away from him. Her aunt couldn’t possibly be angry with her for simply dancing with the man. He danced with many young ladies. It wasn’t as if he had asked to dance with her a second time.

He gave her a questioning glance, and as they waited for their turn, he observed, “You don’t seem to be enjoying the dance. You are not unwell, are you?”

“Oh no, I am well. That is, I am enjoying the exercise.”

“But not the company?”

“Don’t be silly.” Julia gave him a small smile. “You are a very pleasant partner, Mr. Langdon, as you well know.”

“Were you disturbed by seeing Mr. Dinklage? Forgive me if my question is impertinent.”

Was that what he thought? “Mr. Dinklage is an acquaintance I am pleased to hear well of. As you know, he had hoped we would be more than mere acquaintances, but that is not to be, and it is just as well, as we would not have suited each other.”

“Oh no?”

“No.”

“He didn’t seem as convinced of that as you.”

“But that does not signify.” Julia lifted her chin a notch. “All has ended as it should have.”

This was somber subject matter, which was just as she could have hoped. She didn’t want her aunt to see her laughing and smiling at Mr. Langdon. Let her see them both looking rather grim.

“But poor Mr. Dinklage. How will he ever recover sufficiently to love again?”

Julia coughed to cover up the laugh that threatened to escape. Something about his tone amused Julia in a most uncompassionate manner. Oh dear. The thought of Mr. Dinklage in a decline, unable to recover for love of her, was certainly nothing to laugh about. She felt a return of her guilt when she remembered the tears that had welled up in his eyes a few moments before.

“Mr. Langdon, you are being unkind.”

“Am I? Forgive me for my insensitivity to poor Mr. Dinklage.” He made a moue of mock remorse.

Julia had to force herself to look away. He was so naughty! How could she laugh? How could she not?

The dance ended, and Mr. Langdon escorted her toward the row of dowagers where her aunt sat. Phoebe accosted him with some question while Julia excused herself and moved away.

Felicity was coming toward her, her eyes fairly sparkling.

“Felicity, what is the news I see on your face?”

Taking hold of her arm, Felicity whispered, “Mr. Edgerton and I were just having a most interesting conversation—about you.”

“Oh, Felicity, you know I cannot abide the man.”

“But he had the most complimentary things to say about you, Julia. He said you were the loveliest lady of his acquaintance and that he only wished you would deign to speak to him. He praised your intelligence, your musical talent, and your gracefulness. Perhaps you should at least dance with him.”