she glanced at his lips, she wanted to trace their sculpted shape with the tips of her fingers. When she stared at his chest, she wondered how it would feel to press her cheek gently against the expensive fabric of his coat and savor the warmth and strength of power in his shoulder.
But denying those wayward thoughts and using her most prim voice she said, “I’m quite well indeed, thank you.”
“Have you lost your way?”
“Of course not, sir. I know exactly where I am.”
“Do you often retreat to such out of the way places when a guest at house parties?”
Millicent’s gaze darted around the tight space they were in, acutely aware of the cramped area they occupied and just how close he stood to her. This was not a good situation for her to be in at her first soiree.
“I suspect I retreat no more often than you happen to pass by these out of the way places, sir.”
An amused light glinted in his eyes, and he nodded his approval of her answer.
“If I may be so bold as to ask, what exactly is it you are doing back here in this area of the house?”
“Oh, making notes.” The instant she said it she realized that was the wrong thing to say. What had made her blurt that out without thinking? “That is to say I was writing thank-you notes,” she said, trying to clarify her answer, but knew the damage had been done.
His eyes studied her face for a moment before they lowered to the card and pencil she held in her gloved hand. His lips twitched with a half grin, half smile. “Is this the new rage? Writing thank-you notes on the back of a dance card?”
He was not helping her cause. “Oh, no. I’m sure it must look that way. But you see, I meant to say, I’m only making notes of things I want to include when I write them. I didn’t get all my thank-you letters finished today, and I was trying to catch up.”
She stopped, realizing she was making the matter worse, not better. Ordinarily, Millicent was not one to ramble, babble, or stutter incoherently, but this man had her behaving like a drunk ninny.
She looked down at her broken pencil lead and wondered where she could find another. All the names her aunt had given her were mixing with the names of people she had met over the course of the evening. She would be completely useless to her aunt without notes.
Millicent noticed that the gentleman’s gaze was on her dance card and broken pencil, too. Angels above! She opened the fancy-laced reticule that dangled from the drawstring handle on her wrist and slipped the card and pencil inside with the unused spectacles before continuing.
She wasn’t sure there was any way to keep him from thinking she was an imbecile, but she had to try. “I do believe you startled me so that I wasn’t thinking properly.”
“That wasn’t my intention.”
“I’m sure. Let me say, I was writing down ideas for the thank-you notes that I will write tomorrow, when I have proper paper, quill, and ink.” That sounded better.
He reached into the pocket of his frock and extended to her a stubby pencil.
She cleared her throat and said, “Oh, no, I couldn’t take your writing instrument.”
“You must allow me to do this. After all, it was my fault the lead broke in yours.”
“What do you mean by it was your fault?”
“For startling you.”
“Yes, of course. But no, I don’t need it. As you can see, I’ve finished writing and have put my notes away.”
He continued to hold the pencil out to her. Worse yet, he continued that knowing grin that should have irritated her but instead, thoroughly intrigued her. Heavens, could he possibly know that she had been completely enchanted by him?
Millicent tried to take a step back but was brought up short by the wall.
“I insist,” he stated again.
In an effort to hurry him along, she kept her voice level and said, “All right. Thank you.”
She took the pencil, and as she did his fingers boldly caressed the inside of her palm. Even through her gloves and his a shiver of awareness shuddered inside her. Her breath snatched in her throat. The touch was no innocent, accidental brushing of her hand. He had orchestrated it so that she would be certain it was a brash, deliberate act and not an unintentional one.
Millicent did the only thing a proper young lady should do.