Page 15 of Christmas in the Scot's Arms
“I am not besotted,” he growled, though he suspected he could very well be, if he allowed himself to be. “I’m intrigued. There’s a difference.”
“Ye look besotted,” Aila continued. “Why do ye not ask her to dance?”
“There has not been a chance,” he replied, a tick starting in his jaw as Cecelia’s current partner moved his hand dangerously low on her back. “Aila, I may have to hit a man this night. Will ye be angry?”
His sister turned her gaze from him to where Cecelia was dancing, and her mouth thinned. “I’d not be angry, but ye may want to try simply cutting in first. It would cause less tongues to wag, and I have a feeling Cecelia would appreciate that.”
He nodded, and though he wanted to stride right onto the middle of the floor, he waited for Cecelia and her partner to move closer to the edge so he could intercede as discreetly as possible. Luckily, the room was so crowded that it would not be too noticeable when he did cut in. When they got so near that he could have touched Cecelia’s sleeve, he did. She turned her head toward him, and the delight that crossed her face made his chest tighten.
“Miss Cartwright,” he said, “I believe this was to be our dance.”
“Oh yes!” she exclaimed, giving him a look of pure gratitude. “Lord Reeves, I am terribly sorry, but I forgot I promised this dance to Lord MacLeod.” Cecelia stepped away from the man, who reached out as if he was going to grab her.
Liam immediately moved between them and turned his gaze on Lord Reeves. “Ye’ll excuse us,” he said, barely controlling his anger. Perhaps the depth of his brewing ire could be heard in his tone or seen on his face, for Lord Reeves shuffled backward with a nod.
“Of course,” the man said.
As Lord Reeves moved away, Liam took Cecelia by the hand and brought her into the circle of his arms. Without a word, he moved them away from his grinning sister, marveling at the way Cecelia stirred desire in him by simply being near.
She tilted her head up and gazed at him with her dark, enthralling eyes. “Thank you,” she said softly. “I was most uncomfortable and was trying to think how to end the dance.”
“I could see ye were,” he replied. “In this dance and the last.”
Her eyes widened. “You were watching me?”
He’d not meant to admit that, but now that he had, he nodded, refusing to lie about it. “I was. I’d been hoping ye would come to the ball, and when ye appeared, I could not take my eyes from ye.”
A grin appeared on her face, but it quickly faded. Her dark lashes fell to hide her gaze, and then they rose once more. Embarrassment shone in her eyes as her cheeks pinked.
“I saw those two men fail to give ye the respect ye deserve,” he commented, guessing that was what was causing her obvious shame. He felt her tense under his fingertips. He considered abandoning his desire to know why she danced with the men, but he found he had to know.
“Why would ye agree to partner with such men?” he asked.
Her eyes darted to her right where her mother stood glaring at them, and then she turned her gaze back to his. Something dwelled there that looked suspiciously like regret. “One is a marquess, and the other is a viscount. Mama insisted.”
He had thought perhaps that was the case, yet he needed to be certain. “Ye don’t seem happy that such eligible gentlemen asked ye to dance.”
Anger swept over her face, which surprised him. “Those men, like most everyone else in theton, clearly think I have no morals. I warned Mama, but she refuses to hear it. She is determined that I marry well.” As soon as the words flew from her mouth, she gasped. “I am sorry. I don’t know what came over me to have said something so blunt. I always vow to be proper, but every time I’m with you, I seem to forget that vow.”
When she moved as if to pull away, he gripped her more tightly. “Please don’t. I like that ye speak plainly, and I don’t believe for a moment that ye have loose morals.”
“You might if you knew what happened.” The despair in her voice made him angry on her behalf and ignited a wish to protect her. It was strange to feel such a thing for someone he hardly knew, yet he did and could not explain it.
“Tell me, then,” he said softly.
She turned her head away and spoke slowly. “I was caught in the arms of a man who was kissing me…a man who was not my betrothed.”
He frowned. He could not imagine her being untrue. “There must be more to the story than that,” he urged.
When her eyes met his, he could see the shock in them. “Do you know you are the first person to acknowledge that I might not have willingly kissed another? Even my own mother—” She bit her lip. “Well, I daresay, she thought I had a hand in my downfall, but I likely gave her reason to think so. Everyone, really. You see, I was not very good at following the rules of Society as a proper young lady should. I have always laughed too loud, raced horses when I ought not.”
“Shocking,” he teased, thinking upon his own sister who had always done such things, as well.
Cecelia gave him a perplexed look, as if trying to decide if he truly thought it was shocking or if he was goading her. “I once took off my shoes and stockings and frolicked in the waters of the Serpentine with a gentleman friend.” She looked at him as if expecting him to run.
He barely resisted the urge to draw her near and kiss her. This woman did not have loose morals. She had a love for life that was too great for the stuffy confines of London. “I’m envious,” he said in a low voice that throbbed with clear desire.
Her lips parted, and she inhaled a sharp breath. “Oh my,” she finally murmured as the music ended. They stood there, unmoving. “You are quite surprising.”
