Page 27 of My Rogue, My Ruin
The earlier trip of her heart at Hawksfield’s name became a thud at the sound of his voice.
“To dance, dear brother,” Eloise said, her smile directed over Brynn’s shoulder. “If only so your poor sister can dance one set without you running to her eternal rescue.”
Both Brynn and Gray turned to see the unsmiling marquess. He was impeccably dressed—a far cry from his disheveled appearance the day before. “Lady Briannon, Lord Northridge,” he said politely, recognizing them as his sister had, despite the masks they wore, though he was not disguised. Hawksfield remained grim-faced as he extended his arm to Brynn, although she could have sworn she saw something like surprised admiration flash in those silver eyes at her ensemble. “May I?”
“At least there are plenty of eyes on the two of you this time,” Gray muttered.
“Gray.” Brynn flushed, chastising him under her breath, mortified he’d mention her earlier run-in with the marquess. “I’d be honored to dance with Lord Hawksfield. As I am sure you would be with Lady Eloise.”
A muscle ticking in his jaw, Gray forced a smile. “Of course.” Without another word, he pushed off the faux-Greek pillar, one of many placed around the perimeter of the ballroom, and escorted Eloise onto the floor. Brynn knew he would keep an eye on her throughout the entire set, playing chaperone.
She and her dance partner garnered more than a few stares as Hawksfield led her to the center of the floor, the strains of a new waltz starting. He walked stiffly, and when he drew her close, it was with a slight grimace. “I’m starting to think that the waltz is our dance.”
“There is noourdance,” she said, and with a glance down, frowned and added, “Are you even certain you wish to participate? I do not intend to be rude, but you seem to be favoring your right leg. Are you in pain?”
“My ankle has not quite recovered from our jaunt yesterday, but I assure you, I will not embarrass you, if that is what you fear.” His gaze brushed across her face and dipped to the swelling expanse of bare skin above the bodice of the dress before sweeping back up.
She wasn’t worried about him embarrassing her before the others here at all. Her concern lay in how flustered that penetrating gaze made her.
A faint curve of his lips hinted toward a smile. “You look beautiful tonight, Lady Briannon.”
Something soft and delicate flowered in her chest at the blatant admiration in his eyes, and if it weren’t for his expert lead despite his injured ankle, she would have stumbled.
“Thank you, my lord.” He looked well, too, Brynn thought, in his finely tailored clothing. The creamy white cravat accentuated not only his unruly dark hair, but the golden color of his skin, which she supposed came from a life spent outdoors. From what little she knew of him, he seemed like the type who wouldn’t be satisfied sitting inside, drinking port and growing doughy and rheumy with age. He seemed always to be moving with a restless sort of contained energy.
Brynn’s eyes drifted up from his cravat, and she saw him staring at her, an amused expression in those mercurial eyes. She swallowed and realized she’d been lost in thoughts abouthim.
“Where did you go just now?” he asked.
“I beg your pardon?”
“I had made a comment, and all I had for a reply were your eyes upon my neck.”
Heat swamped her still aching chest. “Oh, I…thought I saw…a spot of gravy.”
Blast!Brynn flushed deeper, certain she now resembled a sickly shade of puce.
Hawksfield frowned, though she could still see a twitch of amusement at the corner of his lips. “How very slovenly of me.”
“Oh no, I did not mean at all to—”
“Allow me to try again,” he interrupted, no longer hiding his amusement. “I had said, that is a beautiful necklace.”
His gaze dropped to the rise of her chest. The sheer gall! He no doubt enjoyed making her uncomfortable.
“Thank you. It was…a gift.”
“From a suitor?”
She tightened her gaze. “Of course not.”
Admitting she had accepted a gift as exquisite as this from a suitor would have been paramount to declaring she was off the marriage mart. Which, on second thought, didn’t seem like such an awful thing right then.
They danced in silence for the next few minutes, Hawksfield’s injured ankle making each turn as ossified as a wooden board. The quiet should have made her happy. At least he wasn’t baiting her as he seemed to enjoy doing. However, it made her only more uneasy, especially when she twice caught him eyeing the rubies. The necklace had drawn his attention, and for the first time, she wondered if it was because he recognized it. The rubieswerean exceptional piece. Memorable. Why hadn’t she thought of that possibility before? They’d come from the bandit and had most likely been stolen. Oh good Lord. What if the original owner was a lady in attendance tonight?
As they finished the waltz and the marquess escorted her off the floor, Brynn was fairly sweating.
“You look like you might swoon,” Hawksfield commented as he led her toward the opposite side of the ballroom where Gray had been dancing, the Greek pillar now surrounded by a bevy of young ladies and their mamas.
