He met the duchess and Lady Willow in the foyer and bowed low. “You both look lovely this evening.”
The duchess turned away from him and walked down the hall toward the ballroom. “You’re late. Come along.”
Grayson offered his arm to Lady Willow. “We’ve been to many balls together, but never waltzed. Do you dislike the dance? Shall we try if tonight offers the opportunity?”
The duchess answered for her. “The waltz is vulgar.”
Ah. He peeked at Lady Willow to see if she felt the same.
She chewed her bottom lip, head tilted, and offered no answer.
The waltz had been acceptable for years now! Even Grayson’s father acknowledged it as a right and proper activity for a future duke. Grayson ground down his frustration. “As I understand it, Madam, even the best families waltz.”
The duchess shot him an annoyed look over her shoulder. “We are the best of families, and we do not.”
“Lord Rigsby.” Lady Willow’s voice rose soft but clear. “Do not fret. I’ve never been taught to waltz and would not know what to do.”
Grayson’s fist clenched at his side. Each of her words had rung with hollow defeat, as if she’d given up on even the simple enjoyments of life, no matter the more complex ones. She deserved better than a waltz-less life. And while he now knew he could not marry her, hecouldoffer her temporary escape from the complacent boredom of her days. Tonight, she would waltz, her mother’s preference be damned. He smiled at Lady Willow and blazed forward. “Madam I understand your good breeding compels you to question such a forward physical activity as the waltz, but it seems to be a wonderful opportunity for two people to get to know one another.”
Lady Willow’s mother sniffed. “What need have you two to get to know one another? There will be plenty of time for intimacies later.”
He would not receive official permission, then. He knew what he should do, what his father would expect him to do—obey the duchess and abandon the waltz.
Like hell he would. He turned to Lady Willow and whispered. “Will you waltz with me this evening?”
She frowned. She opened her mouth then closed it, pressing her lips into a thin line.
He stopped their progress right outside the ballroom and waited for the duchess to march into the room and out of earshot before leaning closer to Lady Willow. “If you wish to waltz, it will be our secret.”
She hesitated.
“Do you fear your lack of experience?”
“No-o,” she said slowly, darting a glance at her mother’s figure, disappearing into the crush.
“Ah. Perhaps you do not wish to defy your mother’s rules, even in secr—”
“No. I do. I mean, I will. I mean”—she shoved her dance card at him—“I will waltz with you.” The heightened color in Lady Willow’s cheeks and her eyes, darting glances between Grayson and the ballroom doors her mother had just passed through, made her appear feverish.
“Are you quite sure? I do not wish to press you into anything that discomforts you.”
She nodded firmly. “I’m positive, my lord.”
Grayson grinned. “You will have fun, you’ll see.” Grayson wrote his name next to the dinner waltz and turned them toward the double doors thrown open before them. The ballroom blazed with light, echoed with sound, and he led them into the brilliant cacophony.
And immediately saw the most hideous waistcoat he’d ever seen—puce with green flowers. Only one man dared such sartorial effrontery—Tobias Blake, Henrietta’s brother and Grayson’s long-lost friend. “Lady Willow?” he ventured.
“Hm?”
“I see someone I know and must speak with. Are you comfortable here on your own? Should I find your mother?”
She waved him away. “I’m perfectly fine with or without you, my lord. I hope your conversation is a productive one.” She peeked up at him. “No waltz, then?”
“I’ll return for the waltz,” he reassured her. “I promise.”
She nodded, then turned her attention immediately back to the swirling couples, craning her neck to see further across the crowd. “Do as you wish, my lord, as long as I get my waltz.”
Lady Willow’s voice spoke with firm assurance, never looking at Grayson. No matter. The lady could place her concentration where she pleased; all of Grayson’s concentration focused on Tobias Blake. Tonight, he’d find out why Henrietta—the woman who had kissed him with abandon behind the stables—wasn’t engaged when almost exactly one year ago, Tobias Blake had assured Grayson she was.
