Page 3 of Married By Twelfth Night
Not a second later, Richard looked down at her with his fair blue eyes, meeting her gaze square on. So much for ignoring her. At least he had the sense not to look appalled. He did quirk a subtle, curious brow that anyone else would have missed.
“Miss Steele? Such a rare fortune to catch you by my side.” He flashed her his famous, charismatic smile that left women swooning a county over.
That same smile normally made her grimace. No one man should hold the charm of ten. It was selfish and wasted on a single person. She slid a smile across her own mouth, one undoubtedly far less striking. “Mr. Graham, I apologize for keeping you waiting.”
“I was waiting for you?”
Her smile lowered a notch, and she barely kept from glaring at him. “Indeed. You desired to speak to me?”
“Did I?”
She sensed several sets of eyes on her, including Mr. Dobson’s. He had crept closer and now hovered a few feet away. He hadn’t given up. Why wouldn’t he give up?
“You did,” she said, forcing her smile to widen again, only managing to make it twitch. Oh, botheration. Couldn’t the man play along for a single minute? Close friends could share a look and communicate a lifetime, but she and Richard had never been close in that sort of way. In fact, the physical distance between them now was likely the closestto date. He had a suffocating air about him, and she preferred to keep a respectable distance at all times.
When he didn’t respond directly, she added, “Don’t you recall? You said it was ofutmostimportance.” She thought quickly. She didn’t care to paint herself into a picture where people saw the two of them as a couple, but she did need something convincing. If she wasn’t so flustered by Mr. Dobson, she would have thought of something straightaway. She blurted the first thing she could think of. “Let me remind you. It was something about a request from your mother.”
Richard’s mother’s health hadn’t been the same since his father’s death, and she hardly left her bed. By some miracle, and a great deal of persuading, Mrs. Graham had agreed to visit Bath with a friend in hopes the change of setting and doctors would help. They all hoped partaking of the waters would aid her recovery. Few knew how poorly her spirits had been outside the Grahams, but Grace knew. And Richard knew she knew. The word “mother” was like a secret code, and something flashed across his eyes in response to it.
“Forgive me, I had momentarily forgotten.” He stepped back from his friends. “Excuse us, please.”
She assumed Richard would pull her toward an open section along the back of the room, but he led her toward the French doors bearing fragrant wreaths of wine-colored roses with sprigs of snowdrops, directing her outside the one already open side. A man had never pulled her onto a balcony before, but she let the satisfaction of having Mr. Dobson witness the moment appease any concern niggling her.
Cool night air brushed the width of skin between her gloves and her short-puffed bishop’s sleeves and curled around her neck, refreshing her senses from the heat of the ballroom. Richard stopped away from the few couples lined along the balustrade and leaned against the white marble stone gleaming in the moonlight.
“What are you scheming now, Gracie May?”
That look, along with her childhood nickname, should have made her feel guilty, but she was only grateful for the rescue. She hadn’t had time to make a full-fledged plan, but she had to explain herself. She only needed a minute to think. “Scheming is a strong word,RichieGraham.”
Stating his name, like he had done hers, made her feel like they were on equal footing. She was probably the only one in the world who dared call him such, but he’d never grown out of calling her by her childhood nickname and used it whenever they were out of earshot of others. Turning it around on him seemed justifiably fair.
He chuckled like he saw right through her clever attempt to rattle him. “Whatever it is, you must be desperate if you’re using my mother’s name in one of your nefarious plans.”
“I would never use your mother ill. Her name was employed out ofdesperation.”
“Gracie, desperate? By all means, tell me everything.” When his amused gaze met hers, she shivered. He misinterpreted her physical reaction and added, “But do keep it brief. We wouldn’t want you to catch cold and keep you from your grand plans.”
“I’m not cold,” she said, truthfully, although it was worth noting that he seemed sincerely concerned about her health. His generosity was the one reason she could never hate him. “I shivered because the necessity of this conversation displeases me. You were the best I could do at the moment.”
His eyes sparked in what could only be further amusement. “How very kind of you to convince me to leave my friends so you could criticize me in private.”
“Keep your voice down, if you please. I meant it as a way of explanation. I need a favor.”
That word elicited a reaction. Richard folded his arms, emphasizing the broadness of his chest and how perfectly opposite he was to Mr. Dobson’s squirrelly body. “I’m listening.”
Her mind jumped to an easy solution. “I need you to ask me to dance.”
Richard’s mouth quirked as he worked to suppress a laugh. “This is your desperate cause?”
She nodded, not caring to explain that she hadn’t had time to concoct something better and was improvising. Why make herself look worse than she already did?
“I wonder how I am so fortunate to be your partner of choice. Aren’t you the one who told Miss Harrington last fall that I danced like an elephant?”
She chewed her bottom lip. “It was a calculated response made out of my affection for your sister. Miss Harrington had her eyes set on you, and Bridget did not deserve to be strapped with such a foolish sister-in-law for the rest of her life.”
He nodded, but not like he believed her. “Foolish, you say? That reminds me of how I felt when you pinned a note to the back of my jacket with the word ignorant on it.”
She cast her eyes to the inky sky in exasperation. “That was two years ago over a very poor remark you made about the general capabilities of my gender. How was I supposed to know you were on your way to meet with friends?” Must he bring up her every transgression? She would never admit it, but the cool breeze had started to chill her. This was taking much too long to convince him.
