Mr. Becker had taken to the dance floor with a young lady and was dancing so wildly that Stephen had to swoop Dorothy out of the way. Her hand clutched his shoulder tighter, and he was all so aware of it that he could not tear his gaze from hers.
They ended up dancing much slower than before, staring at each other, swaying from side to side.
“Can I pay you another compliment?” she asked. “Without you taking it in the wrong way, or letting it go to your head, of course.”
“Please do,” he urged, finding himself strangely impatient to hear a compliment from her.
“You are a much fairer dancer than you give yourself credit for,” she whispered, looking around at the other dancers. “It is a good job your dizziness has abated enough to allow you to dance. I half wonder why you do not dance at these events usually.”
“I have no great desire for it.”
“Yet, you saw the opportunity today to drive me away from Lord Chilmond and thought, why not?”
“Exactly.”
“Stephen!”
“I never agreed to fight fairly with you.” He chuckled softly. “In return for your compliment, may I pay you one of my own?”
“What is that?” she asked, looking into his eyes.
“Your dress is quite stunning. You should wear it more often.”
“This? It is far too elegant for me.”
“No, far from it.” Stephen waited until her smile faltered a little, so he could tell that she was truly listening to his words and that she could see he was in earnest. “It suits you very well, indeed.”
“Thank you,” she murmured.
They returned to their barbs, sparring with one another, both intermittently smiling until the end of the dance. When it was over and they walked away from the dance floor, Stephen was startled to find Allan and Lord Chilmond talking together.
At once, Lord Chilmond asked Dorothy for a dance, and Stephen tightened his hold on her hand, but it was not enough. She was quickly led back to the dance floor, and Stephen stared after her.
“You’re taking your duty to watch over my sister very seriously, I see,” Allan said with interest at his side, passing him a glass of brandy. “I do not remember the last time I saw you dance.”
“Well, the situation called for it. I am not sure we should have let Lord Chilmond dance with her at all.”
“Perhaps, or perhaps whom she dances with is her business and not ours.”
Stephen knew his friend was right, but it didn’t mean he had to like it.
* * *
“This is hopeless.”
Dorothy threw the covers off her body and clambered out of the bed, moving to the window. She needed some fresh air, anything to help her think of something else and desist from thinking over every part of the ball.
She had gone over that dance with Stephen so many times and yet still could not make head nor tail of it. When she had returned to her brother’s side after dancing with Lord Chilmond, she could have sworn that Stephen had tried to talk to her more than once, yet Allan had cut in at every chance.
My imagination. That was all it was.
She pulled at the window, doing her best to open it, but it wouldn’t slide up. Grunting in frustration, she stepped back with her hands on her hips. She had no wish to be in this room for much longer, no wish to attempt to sleep and drive herself mad with thoughts of Stephen that weren’t going to be answered.
Hurrying to her wardrobe, she pulled out a gown and threw it on the bed, determined to change. In the darkness, she didn’t bother to light a candle or call for a maid. Instead, she dressed alone, tying her stays at the front of her body without the need of a maid’s help and pulling the gown over her head. Comforted that she would be unseen outside at this hour, she left her hair loose. She picked up her riding jacket, pulled on her boots, and strode out into the corridor.
Even the air in the rest of the house felt hot and stuffy after the ball. She needed fresh air, hoping somehow it would make her tired, for dancing at the ball had not.
She hurried down the staircase and caught a glimpse of the now-empty ballroom through the open doors. The room was a mess, left that way for the servants to clear up the following morning. Dorothy glared at the space for a minute, thinking of some of the gossip she had overheard at the ball.
