Page 84 of Doxy for the Ton
He blushed, then dropped his gaze to the floor.
“Look up!” she whispered, before he collided with another gentleman.
“How else will I follow the dance?” he asked. “I must watch your steps.”
“That’s where you’re going wrong—you should be taking the gentleman’s part, not the lady’s.”
“Gentleman—ha!” a voice said, and Mimi glared at the couple next to them. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of Sawbridge, who seemed to be circling the room, watching her, his expression dark. Their gazes met and he set his mouth into a firm line.
Then she turned, in time to the music, but even with her back to him, she could sense his eyes on her.
The dance progressed and she moved past the gentleman who’d insulted poor Mr. Drayton. As the steps required them to turn, she caught the man’s heel with her toe, and he stumbled forward and collided with his partner. But by the time he whirled round to face the culprit, she’d taken Mr. Drayton toward the front of the line.
“Bugger,” Mimi’s partner muttered as he almost tripped again. “I can’t keep upright. Forgive me.”
“For your footwork, or your language, Mr. Drayton?” she asked, suppressing a smile at the stricken look on his face. At close quarters he looked even younger—barely more than eighteen and most likely fresh out of school. He was no match for the predators in the room.
“It’s our turn to lead,” she said, taking his hands as they turned to face the line. “Follow me.”
He glanced at the line of dancers stretching before him. “Oh no, I couldn’t possibly—all those people. I’ll disgrace you, Lady Rex.”
“Nonsense!” she said, smiling at the irony of the notion that the son of a duke would disgrace a doxy. “Just look into my eyes and take my lead, and you’ll not put a foot wrong.”
“I-I don’t know…”
She leaned close to whisper in his ear. “The trick, in dancing, and in life, is to smile and pretend that you’re a proficient—that you’re one of them, and not a misfit.”
“You’renot a misfit, Lady Rex.”
“You may think so, Mr. Drayton, but that’s because I’ve perfected the art of deception. You may think, based on the incivility of others, that you don’t belong here—but you’ve more right to be here than I. Now, let us show the company that we’re better than them.”
His face split into the smile of an infatuated boy, and he lifted his gaze to her. Then, hand in hand, they moved along the line, stepping in time to the music. The fear in his eyes melted, replaced by confidence and pride, and finally pleasure, as they reached the end.
“There!” she said. “That wasn’t too difficult, was it?”
“I missed several of the steps—what will they think?”
“What do we care what they think?” He grinned, then swayed on his feet, and she caught his sleeve. “I think you ought to sit down. Perhaps I spun you round a little too much.”
He nodded.
“How much have you drunk tonight, Mr. Drayton?”
“Five glasses, no…” He shook his head. “Seven. Sir Heath said I wasn’t a man if I couldn’t hold my…” He drew in a sharp breath then closed his mouth, and Mimi led him toward a chair. “What will my papa think of me?” he asked.
“I won’t tell him if you don’t,” Mimi said. “But I’m sure he’d say the same as I.”
“Which is?”
“That you don’t have to drink to excess to prove your manhood. Neither should you let yourself be influenced by others who may not be acting in your best interests. Instead, prove you’re more of a man than them.”
“Lady Rex, you don’t know how pleased I am to hear that. I…”
He leaned toward her, parting his lips for a kiss. She turned her head aside and pushed him back, laughing.
“Mr. Drayton, the champagne’s affecting your senses. You’ve no wish to do something you’ll regret when you’re sober.”
“I’ll not regretthis.”
