to escort her to the dance floor, and they took their positions to start the cotillion. He rarely danced these days unless it was with someone he knew.
He’d already known of Annabelle’s skills as he’d watched her dance before, and she proved to be a perfect partner. Though graceful, her movements were concise as if she preferred not to draw undue attention to herself. She didn’t embellish the steps or bother with fanciful gestures to gain other’s notice. She simply danced for her own enjoyment.
The occasional brush of their hands and holding her gaze was enough to remind him of her effect on him. While he’d experienced more than his fair share of passion with the opposite sex, he was still surprised—and confused—by his physical reaction to Miss Gold. It was as if at some basic level, she lit an elemental force inside him. The fact that he had little control over it nearly made him take a misstep.
“You look lovely this evening,” he told her when they drew together once more.
“Thank you.” She frowned as if wondering what he was up to. That made him want to pay her another compliment. She truly was beautiful. Perhaps not in the same manner as her elder sister, Lady Aberland, who was known for her golden beauty, but pleasing to the eye all the same. Her features were pleasant, and the intelligence in her eyes increased her attractiveness, at least to him.
Those eyes, the color of melted chocolate, were the window to her soul. But rather than revealing her thoughts, they only hinted at them, making him more curious.
She glanced about as if to make certain no one was paying too close attention. “I couldn’t help but overhear you discussing an author.”
“I was recommending a book I enjoyed to a friend.”
Again came a glower. He wanted to caress the crease between her brows to remove it.
“Why?”
He was forced to wait to answer until the dance brought them together once again. “To sell more books.”
“No.”
“You don’t wish to sell more?”
“Not like this.”
“I beg to differ. Every sale matters. The more people hear of it the better.” Frustration filled him. Attempting to have this discussion between dance steps without letting anyone around them know exactly what they discussed was impossible.
“I appreciate your efforts, but there has to be a better way. Hearing you speak of the...author is too disconcerting.”
“Do you have any suggestions?” His father hadn’t made any effort to advertise the books he chose to publish. Nor did Thomas have any experience.
“Perhaps.”
He could practically see ideas swirling in her eyes. “I look forward to hearing them. But until then, I intend to tell all who will listen that I enjoyed the book.”
A delicate shade of pink rose in her cheeks, stirring desire within him. What might it be like to see that same flush across the rest of her bare skin? He blinked to clear the vision before this ridiculous attraction he had for her embarrassed him.
“It is unsettling to hear the...author’s name at events like this.”
“I would think you’d be used to it by now.” He’d heard people speak of her serial in the broadsheet long before he’d realized his father’s publishing house had released her book. “You do realize it’s a compliment, don’t you?”
“I suppose I worry that my reaction to whatever they say will give me away.” She glanced about as she whispered the last bit.
He liked the idea that they shared this secret though he knew it could also prove dangerous given the attraction that simmered between them. “Please know that I will do all in my power to protect your identity.”
Annabelle met his gaze, her eyes seeming to search his for sincerity. He hoped she found it. Though born a gentleman, he didn’t claim to act like one. But he had his own sense of honor and did his best not to stray from it.
She nodded after a long moment. The knowledge that she’d extended her trust pleased him in no small measure.
At last, the dance drew to a close. He bowed as she curtsied then he offered his arm to escort her from the dance floor. Rather than taking her directly back to her mother, he took a circular route with the hope of finding a hidden alcove or at the very least, a potted fern to give them a moment of privacy to speak freely.
Luck was on his side as Lady Stannus had numerous plants set about that provided what he needed. He drew Annabelle behind