know you’re of a like mind.”
A spot of warmth danced in her belly. She glanced ahead. “At the rate we’re progressing, one would think every guest is stopping to share their life story with the Huntleys.”
Simon chuckled. “Just be glad you’re not in their position, forced to stand still for well over an hour while greeting everyone. At least we are permitted to move.”
“One painful inch at a time,” she muttered.
He chuckled again, stirring the air around them with deep vibrations. Ida cleared her throat, tried to think of something more she might say to engage him in conversation – a means by which to distract herself from his masculine charm.
A thought struck.
“Oh!”
“What?” The gruffness with which he posed the question suggested his mind had been elsewhere.
“It just occurred to me that my dancing might be a bit rusty.” In fact, she’d never had any use for the dances she’d learned as a child until now.
“I beg your pardon?”
They moved another step forward. Ida looked up and noted Simon’s puzzled expression. “This is a ball, which means there will be dancing. Only I’m not sure I remember how to.”
His brows drew together while his mouth turned into a flat, censorious line. “You won’t be dancing.”
“But…” She stopped herself. The look in his eyes was more intense than she’d ever seen it. Her heart flapped around like a bird trapped behind her ribs.
“You won’t be dancing,” he repeated with an almost angry edge to his voice. “Remember your purpose. Don’t get distracted and above all else, avoid drawing attention.”
“But what if someone asks?” She posed the question, not out of interest, but due to a sudden and overwhelming desire to needle him – to ruin part of this evening for him in the same way he’d just ruined hers.
Because here she was now, about to experience what promised to be the most magical evening of her life, only to be told she must practice restraint – not enjoy herself too much – avoid getting carried away.
The temptation to punch him right in the shoulder was almost uncontrollable.
“They won’t. Not once they know you’re with me.” His hand found her elbow once more, urging her onward. She felt him lean in, his breath caressing her cheek. “Now smile, Ida. It’s time to greet your hosts.”
She did her best, not for Simon’s sake – he could go hang as far as she was concerned – but for the duchess’s. Ida had quite liked her when they’d met.
“I’m so glad you were able to come,” Lady Huntley told her.
“Me too,” Ida said. As pleased as she was by the duchess’s warm welcome, it still surprised her. “Thank you for letting me attend.”
The duchess smiled. Kindness danced in her eyes. “Raphe, allow me to introduce you to Miss Smith. Fielding’s…ward.”
The tall, broad-shouldered man standing next to the duchess bowed. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Smith.”
Ida stared at the duke. Although he wore all the right clothes and looked the part, there was something distinctly unpolished about him – a rawness that spoke of a much rougher upbringing than what most peers enjoyed.
“And Fielding,” the duchess added. “It’s good to see you too.”
Simon raised the duchess’s hand and kissed the air above it while Ida did her best not to grind her teeth. I’m not jealous. I’m not jealous. Oh very well, she was almost boiling over with envy. The way he looked at Gabriella, with admiration and regret, made Ida want to scream in frustration because she wanted…
Her stomach seemed to collapse in on itself as all the doubts and concerns she’d had over getting more intimately involved with Fielding untangled themselves. So what if he broke her heart in the end? She’d gotten through loss before and she’d get through it again, but at least she would know what it was to be his.
Fielding released the duchess’s hand, straightened himself, and nodded toward the duke whose expression had darkened with surprising swiftness. “Huntley,” he muttered.
“Fielding,” Huntley said with tight-jawed gruffness.
The duchess sighed and… Did Ida imagine it or did the woman roll her eyes? The exasperated look she gave Ida suggested she might have. “If you’ll please continue inside, we shall join you as soon as we’re able.”
Simon didn’t need a second telling. He grabbed Ida’s arm and jerked her forward, his strides as he marched her toward the cloakroom so long she was forced to triple her steps to keep up.
“Well, that was awkward,” Ida muttered once they’d handed over