Page 39 of The Heiress in Disguise
Lady Grace looked as if she might be about to cry. Her mother snatched the piece of bread from her hand.
Antoine couldn’t help it—he had to intervene. “I beg your pardon, Lady Grace,” he said. “You look beautiful tonight—I wonder if you might favor me with a dance?”
Lady Leicester looked as if she could have been knocked over with a feather. Lady Grace seemed stunned too. “You want to dance—withme?”
“If you’re willing,” Antoine said. “The choice is yours.”
“Are you sure it’s not my sister Gwyneth you want?”
“I’m asking you,” Antoine said. “Again—if you’re willing.”
Lady Grace nodded slowly and took his arm. Antoine led her out onto the dance floor, aware of the fact that Lady Leicesterwas staring at them as if she didn’t understand what had just transpired.
“Thank you,” she murmured as they began the waltz. “My mother was so sure that no one at all would want to dance with me tonight.”
“I can’t imagine why,” Antoine said gently, and he meant it. Lady Grace was no great beauty, but her features were striking, and if she hadn’t been dressed in such an unflattering gown, she could have been pretty enough.
“My sister Gwyneth is her favorite,” Lady Grace said. “She thinks very little of me.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. I hope you’re having a nice time anyway.” It had occurred to Antoine that Lady Grace might be another source of information for him—perhaps even a better one than any of the others, for she seemed gentler in nature. She was probably less dedicated to the idea of oppressing and stealing from her cousin than the rest of her family was.
As they continued around the room, he posed a question. “This house used to belong to the Marquess of Somerset, didn’t it? That’s what I had heard.”
“It did,” Lady Grace said. “He was my uncle.”
“I see—and what happened to him?”
“He died years ago. It was very tragic. That’s how my family came by the house.”
“Oh, that makes sense. I did wonder. But tell me—didn’t the Marquess have a daughter? What ever became of her?”
“You mean Angelique?”
“I suppose that’s who I mean, yes.” He had to pretend to be uncertain. He would scare her off if he appeared to know too much.
“She—she doesn’t live with us,” Lady Grace said, avoiding eye contact. She couldn’t have been more suspicious if she had tried, Antoine thought.
“Where does she live?”
“With her mother’s family in Spain—I mean, in France,” Lady Grace stammered. Her body was suddenly tense in his arms. “My mother doesn’t like me to talk about this.”
“Forgive me,” Antoine said. “I see that I’ve overstepped. I don’t wish to make you uncomfortable. We can speak of other things. Your hair is lovely. That ribbon is very pretty.”
Lady Grace relaxed ever so slightly. “I wasn’t really supposed to wear it,” she admitted with a small smile. “My mother says the red doesn’t go with my yellow gown.”
“I think it looks very nice,” Antoine said. “And it looks especially good with your dark hair. I love bright colors with dark hair.”
“My mother wishes I had blonde hair like my sister. She says that’s more beautiful.”
“They each have their own beauty,” Antoine said. “I don’t think one is better than the other.”
Lady Grace beamed at him. “Thank you, my lord,” she said. “It means a great deal to me to hear that. I’m very glad I met you today.”
“I’m glad to have met you too,” Antoine told her. “And I’m glad you chose to dance with me. I know you were uncertain about it.”
The waltz ended and everyone drifted to the edges of the dance floor. “Midnight is approaching,” Lady Grace said. “Will you be revealing your identity when it arrives?”
“I haven’t yet decided,” Antoine said. “I may prefer to remain anonymous throughout the evening.”
