He shook his head. Her eyes hadn’t pulled him into that dark water quite yet, and he was still in possession of enough of his senses to see through her façade of artlessness. “I know why you’re here, Lucia.”
She opened those big blue eyes wider. “My lord, do you think such intimacy is appropriate?” She put her hand on his arm.
“Don’t flirt with me, brat.” He shook her gloved hand off his sleeve, and her smile faltered.
“I made it clear this morning that I don’t need your assistance in this matter.” He made the mistake of leaning closer to emphasize his point, and her scent enveloped him. It reminded him of home, of a time long, long ago—a time and an innocence he thought he’d forgotten. She smelled of his mother’s soft voice, his father’s laughter, and his favorite dessert. She was vanilla and cinnamon, a scent as delicious and enticing as the woman she’d grown to be.
She blinked at him, the artifice in her features dissolving. “And I’m not interfering in your little matter,” she said through tight lips. “I’m simply going to spend a few hours at the Seatons’ ball. After all, Mr. Seaton is a dear friend of my brother. No one will wonder what I am doing here. Your presence, however, might well be the cause of speculation.” She looked over his shoulder, pretending to count the number of guests whispering about him.
Alex frowned. She had a point. He’d been thinking the same thing right before she’d arrived. He could hardly approach Seaton and ask directly about Lucia’s brother. The two men had never been introduced, and Alex didn’t even have an invitation to the ball. Not that anyone would dare refuse him entrance; his presence here could only elevate the Seaton family in the eyes of the ton, but Seaton might not see it that way. And he’d get nowhere if the boy was offended or suspicious.
Lucia was still pretending to survey the room, though smiling with triumph.
Damn.
He needed her, after all. She could approach Seaton as any concerned sister might, and the man would think nothing of it.
Damn. He forced himself to speak, voice so low he could barely hear it in the din of the room. “You have a point.”
“What was that?” she asked. She’d heard, of course. He could tell by her irritating smile. He imagined emptying a glass of ratafia over her head, and this time the words were almost too easy. “I said, you have a point.”
“I do?” Her hands flew to her heart in feigned astonishment, and Alex looked around for a footman with a beverage tray.
He didn’t see one and settled for scowling at her. “Yes. You do. What are you going to do about it? You can’t exactly pull Seaton into a dark corner and quiz him about Dashing for a quarter hour. Not unless you want to irritate your fiancé as well as give the ton a new topic for gossip.” Ignoring the fact that he was doing just that, Alex jammed a shoulder against the wall of the alcove, crossed his arms, and raised an eyebrow. That ought to erase her gleeful smirk.
“I don’t need a dark corner, Selbourne,” she said and gave him a genuine smile. “My plan is simple, and that is the beauty of it.”
Alex clenched his jaw in irritation and apprehension.
“A simple plan is always the best.” She waved an arm, emphasizing her point. “If one strays from simplicity—”
“Lucia.”
She glanced at his face and sighed. “I have already promised Seaton the first dance.”
“What? How?” Forgetting his intention to appear smug, he jumped as if bitten by the wall he’d been resting against. “You just arrived.”
The triumphant look returned to her eyes. “I’ve promised Seaton a country dance.”
“And Dandridge?”
“I’ve promised him the second dance. The cotillion, I believe.” She sounded bored, as though it was all part of her daily routine.
Alex shook his head in disbelief as she craned on tiptoes to scan the room, probably trying to judge how soon the dancing would begin. Alex squinted at her. “There’s something stuck in your hair,” he said picking at the wreath circling her head.
She swatted his hand away. “Don’t touch! They’re grapes, and they’re all the crack.” She raised her chin a notch. “Lord, but you’re appallingly ignorant in matters of fashion. It’s a wonder you look so presentable tonight.”
He wasn’t sure if he should take that as a compliment or an insult. And as her eyes took quick stock of him, he had to resist the ridiculous urge to straighten his cravat.
She glanced back at the room. “In any case, we can’t idle about talking like this all night. My reputation won’t withstand many public appearances with you, so if you’d planned to dance with me, I’m afraid you’ll have to suspend that pleasure.”
Alex snorted. “I don’t dance.”
“Well, that won’t do,” she said matter-of-factly. “The dancing is about to start, and you must begin it.”
The heavens were obviously involved in some conspiracy against him because just then the strains of violin and cello strings rose above the clamor of voices as the orchestra began to tune.
“I think Miss Seaton would be the appropriate partner,” Lucia announced. “Here, I’ll introduce you.”
