How would it feel to have his arms around her, not as a gesture of thanks or comfort, but because he wanted to hold her the way a man held a woman? And what if he drew back slightly, his gaze flitting from her eyes to her lips as he had done in the carriage—only, this time, hewouldkiss her?
What is the matter with me?
She was supposed to be distancing herself, looking toward their separation, not imagining what it would be like to be closer to him.
Clearly, Harewood Court had done more to addle her mind than she thought.
“Are you sure you are not still unwell from the journey?” Max asked, touching the back of his hand to her cheek. “You look… rosy.”
Caroline blinked. “I am quite well, though I would very much like those refreshments you mentioned. My throat is rather dry.”
“Of course.” He lowered his hand from her cheek. “Caroline, I feel like I keep upsetting you. You should know that it is not my intention. I really do want to ensure your happiness.”
She missed his touch the moment it was gone. “I know. It is the stress of the evening, that is all.” She mustered a smile. “Let us forget we ever quarreled.”
“That would be a gracious relief.” Gently, he rested his hand on the small of her back, and with a light push, he guided her through the crowd of guests.
It was not at all the proper way for a gentleman to behave, particularly one who was trying to fend off a scandal that did not exist, but Caroline would not have chided him for anything. She felt oddly safe with his hand there, as if he was her support, keeping her chin up and her shoulders back, to face whatever whispers might come.
And the whispers did, as the couple entered the ballroom of the grand townhouse with their drinks in hand.
Indeed, of the hundred or so guests in attendance, it felt to Caroline as if every last one had just halted their conversation and turned to stare.
“Set your drink down,” Max said, his voice low as he leaned in close to her ear. “Look at me. Look only at me, and do not hesitate.”
Her eyes widened as she obeyed. “Do not hesitate to do what?”
“This,” he murmured, as he took her by the hand and led her straight to the dance floor.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Max could not remember the last time he had danced at any sort of gathering, but he had been a diligent student in his youth. His mother had insisted on it, and he would have done anything to please her and see her smile.
“Everyone is staring,” Caroline whispered, though she did not miss a note or a step, seamlessly joining hands with him to begin the opening promenade.
Max gazed down at her. “Caro, look at me.”
She did, those honeyed eyes of hers drawing him in like a bee to nectar. There was something so vulnerable and innocent in her expression and the way she chewed her lower lip, awakening a beast in him. A creature of strength and ferocity, who would roar and snarl at anyone who tried to harm her.
I mean to protect you, Caro, from the slings and arrows of these tedious gossips. I will shield you from it all.
He had done all he could to keep her reputation and dignity safe, and though he hoped the war was won through the story he had fed into society, that did not mean they would not still encounter a few rebellious skirmishes from those who relished a scandal.
The orchestra played a lively tune, and Max’s keen memory flooded into his limbs, reminding him of every step.
The promenade came to an end, and he raised his hand and Caroline’s above his head, while she turned in a circle around him. Coming back to face him, they held hands, stepping in and stepping out in a fluid rise and fall. And soon enough, he did not need to tell her for a third time to keep her gaze on him. It was almost as if she could not look away.
Even as they began to dance away from each other, forced to spend a moment turning around another lady or gentleman or linking arms with someone else to turn a circle, their eyes did not waver from one another. And when they were reunited, there was a fierce power in it; they held tighter to the other’s hands, they stepped closer than they had before, each blissful reunion a breathless, urgent experience.
“I think we are supposed to talk,” Caroline said, her cheeks pink, her breath ragged as they came together again, linking arms to turn around and around.
Max smiled. “What would you have us talk about?”
Inside, his stomach clenched, wondering if she was going to bring up the matter of an annulment again. He did not knowwhat he had said to elicit such anger from her in the carriage, when he had thought he was offering her something she might desire—the opportunity for love, with no effect upon her future security—but it appeared that her ire had ebbed for now. He hoped to keep it that way.
“I… do not know.” Caroline’s eyes sparkled. “You dance very well. I did not expect that.”
“Whyever not?”
