Page 64 of The Trouble with True Love

“That is the first bridge to cross, I agree.” He paused, and for several turns around the ballroom, they were both silent.

“There might be a way,” he said at last. “I know you’re quite the social butterfly this evening, but have you any dances left on your card?”

“One, I think.” She pulled her hand from his and flipped over the card that dangled from her left wrist. “The one directly after this. Why?”

“Because Lionel is going to ask you to dance.”

With his surprising prediction still hanging in the air, their waltz came to an end. They pulled apart and made their bows, but as Rex escorted her back to her place, she was impelled to point out the obvious flaw in his idea. “Your friend doesn’t know me. He and I have never even been introduced.”

“Believe me, that is the least of our problems.”

“He’ll never ask me to dance,” she said as they paused beside Sarah and Angela. “Why would he?”

“Says the girl with the full dance card.”

“You know what I mean. I’m sure he blames me as much as he does you for what happened. Why would he ever ask me to dance?”

“To make me jealous, of course.” Rex bowed over her hand, and as he straightened, there was a look in his eyes she recognized, one that made her already-rapid heartbeat quicken even more. “And if he makes you smile, Clara, he’ll succeed.”

“Well, I’ve done what you asked.” Hetty shook her head in obvious bafflement as she joined Rex at the edge of the dance floor. “Though your reason for asking me to introduce Clara to Lionel Strange escapes me. Look what happened.” She waved a hand toward the ballroom floor. “He immediately asked her to dance.”

“Did he?”

“An event which doesn’t seem to surprise you,” Hetty murmured, staring at him. “You wanted him to dance with her? But why?” she asked when he nodded. “Why would you want that?”

“I know what I’m doing,” he assured, but Fate seemed inclined to test his declaration, for at that moment, Clara smiled at Lionel, and Rex experienced an almost primal urge to snarl, an echo of what he’d felt earlier as he’d watched London’s young turks gathering round her asking for dances. Not wanting to be a glutton for punishment, he’d escaped to the card room after securing his own dance with her, but in this case, he was obliged to watch her dancing with another man, and though he could not deny his own jealousy, he tried not to explore it too deeply, for there was nothing he could do about it. Still, he couldn’t help being glad Lionel’s heart was already taken.

“Do you, Rex?” Hetty asked, bringing his attention back to her. “Do you know what you’re doing? Lionel Strange is one of London’s most eligible bachelors. Not much money, of course, but being an MP, he has an income. And he is rising in the Labor Party, I understand. He could be Home Secretary one day. He’s very good-looking, too. And, like Miss Deverill’s father, he comes from the middle class. Many would consider Lionel and Miss Deverill rather well-suited, in fact.”

Rex didn’t reply.

“Oh, I don’t understand you at all!” she cried. “I thought you liked this girl.”

“I do like her.” Deep inside, lusty dragons rumbled, reminding him how much. “But she and I are just—”

“Just friends,” she finished for him. “Yes, so you’ve said. But since you talk with her at every party, you accept invitations to events you know she will attend, and you dance with her at balls, you are giving everyone in society the impression you’re quite keen.” She looked at the dance floor, then back at him. “And yet, I have observed that she does not seem all that taken with you.”

He thought of that afternoon on the settee, of Clara’s passionate response to his kiss. Guilt rose in him, and was at once snuffed out as desire took over. He stirred, looking away.

“Ooh-la-la,” Hetty murmured, watching him. “Perhaps the shoe’s on the other foot, at last.”

He set his jaw, working to muster his dignity, but dignity was a difficult thing to find when memories of Clara’s kiss were making his body burn. “That,” he said, “is absurd.”

“Is it? Perhaps Lionel is out on the dance floor with her to plead your suit?”

Despite what he was feeling, that suggestion was almost enough to make him laugh. “Didn’t you hear what happened at Auntie’s ball? Lionel knocked me unconscious.”

“Oh, you two have been friends forever. Whatever your quarrel was about, it’s obvious you’ve made up by now. Because I can think of no other reason why you would willingly push Miss Deverill, a woman you clearly have a passion for, into the arms of a man so perfectly suited to her.”

He did not reply, and after a moment, Hetty gave a vexed sigh.

“Oh, very well, since it’s clear you’re in no mind to part with further details, I shall take myself off and go in to supper.”

Hetty walked away, and Rex returned his attention to the ballroom floor, shoving memories of that afternoon on the settee with Clara out of his mind even as he searched for her among the dancers. When he found her, he observed that Lionel was listening quite closely to what she was saying, a very good sign, indeed. And when the dance was over and he escorted her off the floor, he nodded to Rex as he passed by.

That, Rex knew, was an even more encouraging sign, but it was only as Lionel escorted Clara in to supper and she gave Rex a nod over her shoulder that he allowed himself to believe Lionel was willing to forgive and the plan had succeeded.

Not that he shared Clara’s romantic view of what success entailed, but that, he decided, was another battle for another day.

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