Page 81 of Midnight with the Marquess (The St. Clairs 2)

Chapter Twenty-Five

As usual, Merrifieldmade his way to Rachel before any other gentleman did. It had almost become a game among the bachelors of thetonto see if they could reach her and claim a dance before the earl. Merrifield never allowed anyone to waylay him. He skipped receiving lines and ignored all who called out a greeting to him, letting no one get in his path.

“Good evening, Lady Rachel,” he said pleasantly. “How are you tonight?”

“I am well, Lord Merrifield. And you?”

“Quite well, indeed. Might I examine your programme and claim a dance?”

“Most certainly.”

She handed it over and he examined it before writing his name next to the supper dance. They had repeated the game several times now but on this occasion, he changed the course. Rachel watched as he penned his name a second time.

Beside the last dance.

Handing her dance card back, he said, “I hope you don’t mind if I took two slots.”

“Not at all, my lord. I’m merely surprised you didn’t claim your usual dance after supper.”

Rachel had thought that tonight she would ask him as they strolled outside after supper if he intended to ever kiss her again. She needed to kiss him badly. She wanted Merrifield to make a decent impression on her—so she could forget that night in the gazebo with Merrick.

And all those midnight kisses...

“I thought if we shared the last dance together that I might be allowed to escort you home.”

“I see.”

She wondered if he wanted her alone in a darkened carriage for their next kiss.

“I’m not certain that would be appropriate, Lord Merrifield. My brother and his wife escorted me here tonight and want me properly chaperoned at all times. A young lady cannot be too careful, according to Jeremy.”

“Then I will speak to Everton and let him know I wish to see you home. We’ll see what the duke says.”

Anticipation filled her. She needed to kiss Merrifield again. No one on her list came close. She’d kissed one of the gentlemen on it already and his kiss had been sweet and reliable. Another who hadn’t made the list tried to kiss her three nights ago. Rachel had turned her head so that his lips merely grazed her cheek. It was time Merrifield staked his claim and let her figure out whether or not things would progress between them—even if she already knew she would accept his inevitable offer.

“Very well. You do that,” she told him and turned away to greet two gentlemen wishing to claim a dance from her.

Rachel danced three times in a row. One partner was tongue-tied and his attempts at conversation fell flat. The second nearly broke her toe with his awkward steps on the dance floor. The third had great possibilities. He was an earl from Scotland that had just arrived in London for the Season. He possessed a charming accent and a dimple in his chin. His conversation was lively. So far, he was the greatest challenger to Merrifield—and she’d only just met him.

She thought if she wed this delightful earl from Scotland, she wouldn’t have to come to London. Though she would miss her family terribly, she could visit them at their country estates. Moving to Scotland meant, in all likelihood, that she would never lay eyes on Merrick again. Suddenly, this man she danced with appealed to her even more than Merrifield. Would it be so wrong to be a coward and wed this handsome Scot just so she’d never risk a chance of running into Merrick again?

And then she saw him.

Rachel stumbled, her feet entangling, and the Scot had to halt his own steps in order to right her.

“Are you all right, Lady Rachel?” he asked.

“Yes. I am,” she assured him.

They resumed dancing but she gazed across the room. The Marquess of Merrick boldly stared at her. Without thinking, Rachel licked her lips.

He smiled.

Realizing what she’d done, she glanced up at her partner and said, “This is my third dance in a row. Would it be possible to stop and have some punch together?”

Her partner smiled. A very nice smile. “An excellent idea.”

He released her and escorted her from the dance floor. They went straight to the punch bowl, where he claimed two cups.

---