Page 25 of The Moonstone Governess
“Well, well. The little dove is starting to like me,” he gently teased. “But does this not make my point? I have not met Albert, but I think you are never yourself around him.”
He expected a vehement denial from her lips, but she simply turned silent.
It was as though her entire body turned inward, curling up in a protective shell.
“Forgive me,” he said as they continued to twirl with exceptional ease around the dance floor. “Tonight is meant to be enjoyed, and I am burdening you with my concerns.”
She looked up at him. “I appreciate what you are saying. For someone who has avoided love quite deftly all these years, you seem to understand it quite well.”
“It is not love I am avoiding. In truth, I may be more desperate to find it than anyone else here. What I seek to avoid is being caught in the parson’s trap with someone who is completely unsuitable for me, as all these young ladies pushed at me by their scheming mothers have been so far.”
“I have never had a beau other than Albert. I am never myself around him and his friends. They engage in esoteric debates among themselves and shut me out if ever I attempt to offer an opinion. Sometimes, they are more insufferable than your elite friends.”
Daire laughed. “Dear heaven, that bad?”
She cast him the softest smile. “Yes.”
The waltz came to an end, and Daire felt considerable regret, for he was not yet ready to leave Brenna’s side. But to remain with her any longer would only embarrass her and stir up gossip. He returned her to her Uncle Malcolm, who was the village constable and much respected by the local citizenry.
After greeting her uncle, he turned to Brenna and bowed over her hand. “A pleasure, Miss Angel.”
He spent the rest of the evening sharing a lively reel with Mrs. Halsey, and another with her daughter, then a steadier quadrille with Lady Dowling, and waltzes with Lady Gemma and Lady Sarah. But his eyes were on Brenna all the while. This inability to get her out of his thoughts disconcerted him.
He had told Brenna to stop worrying and simply enjoy the evening. He decided to take his own advice.
This made for a rather cheerful evening, until Lady Dowling approached him while he once again happened to be speaking to Brenna and her Uncle Malcolm. “Your Grace, you promised to escort me home,” she said in a suggestive purr.
His smile faded.
She placed her arm in his with a bit too much familiarity, leaning into him so that her breast grazed his arm. “I am quite fatigued and look forward to jumping into bed.”
Bloody blazes.
He looked around for Hollingsworth or Danson, hoping to fob her off on one of them, but they were nowhere to be seen. “Very well.” He turned reluctantly to Brenna and her uncle. “I shall return shortly to continue our conversation.”
How much more obvious could he be in assuring Brenna he was not going to spend the night with the merry widow?
“Do not concern yourself,” Brenna said, her voice sounding brittle. “I must leave soon as well.”
He sighed. “Stay, Miss Angel. I will not be gone long.”
But it was a lost cause.
Brenna was convinced he had planned an assignation with Lady Dowling and was now merely trying not to look like the bounder she knew he was.
“Good night, then.” He gave a curt nod. “I will see you in the morning.”
He walked the widow back to her house, making certain nothing was amiss before he turned to leave. Although this was a quiet village, it was starting to attract the usual assortment of unsavory characters who followed the idle rich. A widow alone was an easy target. As irritated as he was with the woman for purposely stirring up trouble between him and Brenna, he was not going to ignore her safety.
“Do stay,” she purred, this time rubbing her full body up against him like a cat in heat.
“No.” He unwound her arm from his. “To be clear, Lady Dowling, do not play your games with me, for I do not take kindly to being manipulated. You asked to be walked home, and you are now home. Good night.”
He strode out, hoping to make his way back to the inn before Brenna left.
But he was too late. She was nowhere to be found among the crowd.
“Blast,” he muttered, grabbing a drink for himself and stalking off to the inn’s garden to calm himself down.
