Stephen found his smile growing by the second as she dealt out the cards. When he didn’t pick up his hand, she looked up to meet his gaze.
“What is it?” she asked, fidgeting and shifting in her seat. He watched her move, waiting for her to settle.
“You think me handsome, Dorothy?” he asked in a quiet voice.
Her lips fell apart, suggesting she hadn’t truly realized what she had said.
“What I meant… I mean, what I was trying to say…”
He laughed heartily as he watched her fidget again, unable to sit still with her cards as she constantly rearranged them in her hands.
“A compliment from you, eh? A rarity!” he said with vigor. “I had no idea I distracted you so much.”
“You do not,” she insisted, her tone dark.
“Not even a little?” He leaned forward. “You were the one just playing footsie with me under the table.”
“Be quiet. I’m wearing heels this evening, so if I reach for your foot again, I may hurt you.”
He laughed, noting the mischievous smile on her lips.
Strangely, he didn’t want this feeling to end, so when Lord Chilmond appeared and took Lady Frederica’s vacant seat between them, Stephen’s laugh halted suddenly.
“Who’s winning?” Lord Chilmond asked with ease. “Forgive my interruption, My Lady. I could not resist coming to see you again.”
Dorothy turned her attention to Lord Chilmond, and Stephen could have barked at the Viscount that he had hardly offered an apology to him.
“Stephen is unfortunately winning.” Dorothy gestured to the cribbage board.
“Then may I offer my help?” Lord Chilmond cracked his knuckles as if he was about to get into a fight. “I’m no fantastic player, but two minds are better than one, are they not?”
“I’d be glad of your help. Thank you.” Dorothy moved her chair so close to Lord Chilmond’s that he rested his arm quite easily across the back of her seat. They leaned toward one another, perusing the cards and whispering together.
God’s wounds, I detest this man.
It struck Stephen suddenly, like lightning. All he could think of was tipping Lord Chilmond out of his chair and getting him as far away from Dorothy as possible. But he could hardly do such a thing. Imagine the horror in the room if a duke knocked a viscount off his chair as if he was nothing more than an irksome rat in their company. His father would have been outraged! Still, the desire burned strongly in him.
Stephen was so distracted by his fury at Lord Chilmond for interrupting his and Dorothy’s game that he lost the next three rounds. With delight, Dorothy moved her peg in the cribbage board across the finish line and practically cheered.
“Thank you for your help, Lord Chilmond. We have, indeed, quite trounced him.”
Stephen threw down his cards in anger.
“I am happy to help any time I can.” Lord Chilmond rubbed his hands together. “For the chance to see that smile, what else would I do?”
There are other ways to make her smile.
Stephen shook his head free of the thought, wondering why it had entered his mind when Dorothy stood from her chair.
“Well, thank you for a lovely evening, My Lord. I think I’ll retire for the night now.”
As Dorothy stood, Lord Chilmond followed and reached for her hand. He lifted it to his lips and kissed the back of it. The moment his lips touched her skin, Stephen stood, moving so fast that the chair behind him wobbled, in danger of falling over.
If anyone noticed the so-out-of-character act—for Stephen was never clumsy, and he never knocked over chairs—they didn’t show it or even look at him. Even Dorothy was too fixated on staring at Lord Chilmond as he kissed her hand.
“Goodnight,” she whispered to the Viscount, whose eyes lingered on her as she left the room.
Stephen had nothing to say to Lord Chilmond, no words or niceties to share, so he did something he had never thought himself capable of. He walked past Lord Chilmond without uttering a word. He said goodnight to their hosts instead and hastened into the corridor, taking the stairs two at a time in his haste to catch up with Dorothy.
