“Yes, very much.”
Talbot knew she hadn’t been brought up in the Ton, but had she been brought up somewhere far away from other people? She was stalemate personified.
“I believe now it’s your turn to ask something, Miss Hawkins.” Talbot attempted to conceal his irritation with a fake smile.
That shook her out of her daze.
“I must seem frightfully rude, I apologise,” she said, and seemed sincere. “This whole evening I’ve been fretting over making afaux pas, or forgetting the steps to a dance, or making a fool of myself or embarrassing my brother some other way, and now I finally have the chance to relax a bit since I’m dancing with a man who I already inflicted bodily harm on, which means you’ve already seen me at my worst so there is no point in exhausting myself further in order to make a good first impression,” she concluded.
Talbot was taken aback by the admission, as well as the utterly inappropriate reference to their first meeting. He suddenly remembered how lost and scared she had looked right before she kneed him, so he only said, “I dance well enough for the both of us, no need to worry on that account.”
“Are you not going to address the fact that I injured you?” the girl asked, suppressing a smile.
Talbot narrowed his eyes at her, “I wasn’t going to, Miss Hawkins. And neither should you.”
“Forgive me if this is inappropriate, but we don’t really have to converse at all.”
Talbot cocked his head to the side as he observed the girl. He felt her shoulders move every time she spoke, and her hand occasionally jerked in his, like she was used to waving it around during conversations.
“Now, why would you say that?”
“Well, you clearly dislike my brother, and you keep referring to me asMiss Hawkins,letting me know what you think of my position in society. Not to mention you purse your lips wheneveryou address me, as if your mouth is upset that it has to talk to me,” Elizabeth told him as she held her gaze on something behind his shoulder. “I would much rather use this time to rest and recover for the remaining portion of the ball.”
He was surprised that she’d noticed his antipathy. Talbot considered himself a master of schooling his features to conceal his true thoughts. He didn’t know what to say.
He never reallytalkedto women. He talkedathis female servants. He conversed somewhat with his mistresses, though not too much nor too deeply. His mother was somewhere on the Continent, and he hadn’t seen her in years. He often uttered conventional, worn-out phrases, lukewarm compliments, and empty platitudes at balls and similar events to wide-eyed young women who hoped to become the next Duchess of Norwich, but he’d never spoken to a woman honestly or at length, as if she were a man.
“Almost every ballroom has a coat room not far from the entrance,” he said, deciding to ignore her accurate observation, “unlike the retiring rooms, the coat room usually remains empty once the dancing starts. If you ever need a moment to gather your wits, you can briefly retire there.”
Hearing that, she did, finally, stumble and step on his foot.
“Don’t apologise,” he shook his head upon seeing her expression. “No one even noticed, and it hurt far less than your other attack on me.”
Elizabeth’s smile was so wide that his own face couldn’t resist mirroring it. He noticed that her eyes twinkled when she was amused, and her mouth was framed by two large dimples.
“Well, thank you, Your Grace. Both for suffering my various attacks on your person, and for the advice on where I can escape this crush, even if only for a moment. I hope I’ll get used to it soon,” she added somewhat wistfully, and Talbot was unable to decipher whether she longed to accept this life or for her days prior to it.
He, personally, couldn’t comprehend anyone longing for an existence different from this one.
“Thank you for the dance, Miss Hawkins,” he said as he bowed, then offered his hand to lead her off the dance floor.
She walked briskly, efficiently, not in order to be seen, noticed, or admired, but because she had a destination to reach, and once she did, she seemed to be at a loss. He could tell that her body was used to being active, and that she had to exert great effort to keep it still and decorative.
“Thank you, Your Grace,” Elizabeth performed what she probably believed to be a rather successful curtsy before turning to her next partner, a man below him in rank.
Talbot, on the other hand, had the honour of dancing the second waltz with the most coveted female match of the Season, Lady Helena Grey. Not only was she beautiful and accomplished, but she was also an Earl’s daughter with a significant dowry.
Why had he even wasted the first waltz on Nicholas’s illegitimate half-sister?
“Thank you for the honour of this dance, lovely Lady Helena,” he all but purred as he gazed into her sharp blue eyes.
“The honour is all mine, Your Grace, even if it is only the second waltz,” she pouted, and her mouth looked even more alluring. It was a practised look, Talbot could tell, for he had seen manyyoung ladies make the exact same face over the years. It was comforting and familiar, and thusgood.
“You know very well one must honour his host,” he decided to play the game Lady Helena had started.
“You are known far and wide for your impeccable manners, Duke Talbot,” she smiled prettily, letting him know that, of course, everyone would understand that he was forced to dance the first waltz with the interloper only because her brother was the host.
“Birds of a feather, as you well know, Lady Helena,” he flattered her, and her whole face lit up.
