Page 63 of An Unwitting Alliance
A compliment like that could make a girl swoon. As it was, Cassandra had to lean against Megan.
Patricia laughed as if Tom had made some great joke. “You must not exaggerate, Mr. Harwood. Miss Vail is intelligent, if nothing else. She knows her situation better than you or I know it.” She put her hand to her throat, and her laugh faltered. She searched the room and gasped. “Has anyone seen my reticule?”
Each of them shook their heads, but Cassandra was still squirming. Did all the friends in her family’s circle view her family as too poor to be of notice?
“It is the silliest thing,” Patricia continued, addressing mostly Tom. “My pearls were itching my throat, so I removed them and placed them in my reticule. I must have set it down somewhere before the dancing began, but now I cannot see it anywhere.”
After Patricia’s perpetual rudeness, Cassandra almost wished the necklace would be lost forever. Though, it was not likely Patricia would learn anything from the loss.
“Excuse me,” Patricia said, “but I ought to take a walk around the room and search for it.”
“We will look for it as well,” Aunt Evans said.
Megan dug her fingernails through her gloves and into Cassandra’s arm. Cassandra discreetly elbowed her sister. Neither of them wanted to assist Patricia with anything, but they were her guests.
Mr. Gibbons returned with a drink for Cassandra.
Tom’s smile dropped, and he openly glared. He seemed to get on with everyone. What did he have against Mr. Gibbons?
“Thank you,” Cassandra said, accepting the punch.
“Mr. Gibbons,” Patricia said. “I do hope you are enjoying yourself. We were all about to commence in a search for my reticule. Will you help us?”
“Gladly, Miss Pollard. What color is it?”
“Gold satin with tassels on the corners.”
Tom cleared his throat. “Miss Vail and I will check the north side and the balcony.” He took Cassandra’s punch and put it back into Mr. Gibbons’s hand, then swiftly offered Cassandra his arm.
Megan reluctantly released her, and Cassandra and Tom stepped away from the discussion. Something about her hand on his arm gave her a sense of security, even if she felt Mr. Gibbons’s eyes following her. She glanced back, and sure enough, Mr. Gibbons met her gaze. She faced forward quickly. “I doubt Patricia left her reticule on the balcony, but I am impressed with your quick maneuvering, Mr. Harwood.”
“It’s still Tom.CleverTom, if you must.”
They weaved around a few gossiping matrons. “Clever is fitting. It is the same verbiage applied to one who causes trouble but does not get caught.”
Tom eyed her. “I find I don’t mind getting caught by the right person.” They were nearly to the opposite side of the room, the balcony doors only ten feet in front of them, when he suddenly took her hand in his.
With rounded eyes, she floundered for an objection. It might have been appropriate had he been escorting her onto the dance floor, but him pulling her toward the balcony with that wide grin of his back in place would cause her all sorts of trouble. But her body had a mind of its own. The thrill of being whisked off to a balcony by the handsome Tom Harwood was the stuff of dreams. Any fictional knight in shining armor had long since been replaced by this man. There was no use attempting to form words because an objection wouldnevercome.
The night was young and the balcony empty. One word described it perfectly for Cassandra—romantic. Tom led her away from the door to the side of the house before stopping. With a tug, he brought her to him, her free hand landing on his chest. He did not say anything right away, just studied her.
The silence begged to be broken. “I... I don’t see any sign of the reticule.”
“We aren’t looking for the reticule,” he said.
She swallowed. “Then, why are we here?”
“You seemed confused.”
“I did?” If she had any rational ideas in her mind, they had escaped the minute Tom had grabbed her hand. Their nearness now made it infinitely harder to form a coherent thought.
“Why don’t we have a chat and clear things up.”
“I would like that.” Her disobedient gaze fell to his lips. She jerked her focus back to his eyes—blue eyes that completely captivated hers.
Tom’s chest rose under her hand, as he said,“I have never been the possessive type, but while my name is tied to yours, there cannot be anyone else.”
She gave a quick nod. “It’s the right thing to do.”
