Page 48 of The Viscount's Unwanted Bride
Kate snorted. “Not tonight, you won’t. The external doors are remaining firmly closed. It’s far too cold out there to have them open.”
Not to mention the fact that she’d rather her friend not get herself ruined at her engagement ball.
Sophie hurried to catch up with Lord and Lady Carlisle, and Kate fixed a smile on her face to greet Francine Thomson and her mother. She narrowed her eyes, silently warning Francine not to make any comments like the one she previously had about Lord Blackwell tossing people off cliffs. If they’d been alone, she’d have come straight out and told the other woman to keep her opinions to herself.
She and Blackwell stood in place at the entrance for far too long before joining the merriment in the ballroom. Once they were free of their duties, Kate got herself a lemonade and drank it quickly, her throat parched after talking so much.
She was grateful to be done with that part of the evening. Even though everyone had been polite, she could tell that some of them thought she was a fool for marrying Blackwell, and others thought she was a harlot for trapping him in the first place.
The people in the refreshments room parted as Blackwell walked in, clearing a path for him to walk straight to Kate. He didn’t even seem to notice, his dark eyes never wavering from her.
He offered her his hand. “I’ve asked the musicians to play a waltz for the next dance. Would you like to join me?”
“I would love to.” Kate laid her gloved palm on his and allowed him to draw her away from the table.
As they entered the ballroom, the song ended, and they found an empty patch of floor and arranged themselves while they waited for the next song to begin. When it did, she found herself being swept into an easy dance.
Blackwell moved gracefully, with no hesitation, and she wondered if he’d been practicing. He was rusty the last time they danced.
She peeked up at him and found him already watching her. Those dark eyes should have been cold, but somehow, they flooded her with warmth. His touch on her side was gentle but firm. They swayed together as if each one knew precisely where the other was about to put their feet.
It was enchanting.
She really had gotten lucky.
Even though they didn’t speak, the silence didn’t feel awkward. As the dance ended and they linked arms and left the dance floor, she turned to him and asked, “Are all of your suits black, or do you have them in different colors?”
One corner of his mouth curled, as if he were amused. “Most of them are black. I have one gray and one dark blue. Does that bother you?”
“No, it just surprises me. I could have sworn you were wearing bright blue and pink when we met.” Although perhaps he had cravats in other colors and just used them to bring more life to his darker suits. “You were quite unlike yourself that night.”
Again, she got the impression there was something she was missing. Something important and right under her nose.
His expression didn’t change, but he became almost preternaturally still. “As I said, I was a little inebriated.”
She hesitated before asking the next question on her mind. “Is that something that happens often with you?”
She didn’t think he would be an angry or violent drunk, and he came across as being too meticulous to allow himself to become sloppy, but if that was what she was getting into, she ought to know.
“No. I had some things on my mind that evening. It was nothing you need to be concerned with. I promise it won’t affect our marriage.”
She drew back, feeling slightly rebuked. It wasn’t as if he’d told her not to pry, but she’d received that message anyway, loud and clear. She didn’t like it, but she did believe him when he said that he didn’t make a habit of becoming intoxicated.
“Would you like to dance again?” he asked, and she couldn’t help but think that it was a distraction to end this line of questioning.
“No, thank you.” She tried to smile but knew it didn’t land quite right. “I’m a bit overheated. I might get another drink.”
“Allow me to keep you company.”
He escorted her to the drinks and offered her a lemonade, which she took and drained rapidly. It hadn’t been a lie—she was thirsty. Unfortunately, the lemonade didn’t take away her uncomfortable suspicion that Blackwell was keeping something from her.
“Please excuse me,” she said. “I need to visit the retiring room.”
She left before he could offer to walk her there or before he asked any other questions. She didn’t go directly to the retiring room, though, but paused on the way to touch Sophie’s arm and murmur in her ear that she needed to talk to her.
Sophie finished a conversation with a blond gentleman that Kate didn’t recognize and fell into step beside her. Kate didn’t speak until they were inside the retiring room and she had checked that they were alone.
“I think Blackwell is lying to me about something,” she whispered, her eyes darting around to make sure no one could sneak up on them. “I don’t know what, though.”
