Page 33 of The Duke's Stolen Heart
“You’re telling me to smile more?”
Havencrest’s handsome face pulled into a mild grimace. “I am providing you information. If you don’t wish to use it, that is your decision. It will go a long way toward convincing observers at a dance that you are exactly what you appear to be if you can pretend to enjoy yourself while dancing.”
“And what is that?” Antonia asked, prodding. She liked it when Malcolm doled out begrudging compliments.
“A demure and pleasant visitor from a foreign land attempting to learn our local customs.”
“Not a thief, you mean,” she confirmed.
“Precisely. For the entire time we have been learning the cotillion, I have wondered whether you were about to lurch across the space and bite me. However much you dislike me, Miss Lowry, it will be easier to publicly convince others if you practice with me in private.”
“I don’t dislike you,” she said softly. The problem was that Antonia liked him far more than she ought to. Especially here, when they were alone without the world pressing in on them from all sides. Malcolm regarded her with sharp interest but said nothing in response. Antonia’s heart tried to clamber into her throat. Had she revealed too much? Or had she managed to tie his tongue with her customary bluntness?
Outside, the clock tower bell rang the hour. Nine o’clock. They stopped as one, facing one another, a little out of breath.
“Let’s take a break and try a game of whist,” Antonia offered. If he touched her again, she’d have to act on one of her outrageous fantasies from yesterday. Or at least kiss him. Damned if she’d go first.
“Why whist?”
“I hardly know how to play, but it’s clear your grandmother enjoys it the game. It’s a way to ingratiate myself with her. But I have to know the basics before I can cheat effectively.’
Malcolm regarded her with skepticism. Then he threw back his head and laughed. “Agreed. We have another opportunity this evening to observe my grandmother. I have it on good authority she is attending the same ball as your hosts.”
They rearranged objects on the small table. Antonia wordlessly passed over the wood case of drawing supplies.
“Aren’t you going to ask to see its contents?” he asked.
“No,” Antonia said firmly. “I intend to let you show me, if you ever wish to do so.”
He cast her a startled, sidelong glance. Antonia did not meet his gaze, but she let a soft smile creep up to the corners of her lips. “Touché.”
They took their seats. She shuffled the deck. “Cut,” she ordered, and Havencrest did. “Now, show me how to play.”
