Quickly, she stepped backwards, only to feel a warm hand at the small of her back.
Glancing over her shoulder, she found his grace staring down at her, his expression entirely unreadable.
She gulped hard as his grace gently nudged her forward. Feeling more than a little awkward, she forced her attention back to Lord Greystone.
“My Lord,” she said, dipping her head respectfully. “It is wonderful to see you again.”
He smiled, and his charming expression caught Cecelia’s attention in the same way it had the first time she had met him.
“I feel much the same way, My Lady,” he said, clearing his throat before he asked, “I wondered if perhaps you might do me the honour of your next dance?”
He offered his hand, and Cecelia glanced at his extended palm, feeling her stomach somersault.
Compared to many of the dance partners she’d had that evening, Lord Greystone was much more interesting.
“I … it would be my pleasure, My Lord,” she said, only when she heard his grace cough discreetly behind her. A part of her wondered if he might have had something to say about it all, and yet, he seemed willing, as he had been of late, to let her handle her own prospects.
Though she enjoyed the idea of dancing with Lord Greystone again, a part of her was almost disappointed that his grace seemed to have stepped back from his overly protective interferences.
As she placed her hand in Lord Greystone’s, she glanced back over her shoulder to see that his grace was still watching her.
If he was judging, the nobleman, he did not utter a word. Nor did his expression give anything away.
Elizabeth’s expression, on the other hand, was quite excited and encouraging.
“Good luck,” her friend mouthed as she was guided out onto the dance floor.
“Are you quite well, My Lady?” Lord Greystone asked as he took her into his arms, squaring up for the beginning of the dance.
“I am, My Lord,” she said, smiling, trying her hardest to concentrate upon his charming face as he returned her happy expression. “I do hope that you are well, also.”
“I am,” Lord Greystone said, and he leaned forward slightly as he whispered, “much more so now that I may dance with you.”
Cecelia’s chest swelled. “I am glad.”
“I must admit, My Lady, ordinarily, I find these events quite tiresome.” Lord Greystone sighed deeply, his hand on the small of her back, rubbing gently. “But I find it much more appealing in your company.”
Cecelia blushed. “And I, yours, My Lord.”
That seemed to please him as his smile broadened.
“I do hope you are not merely saying that for my benefit, My Lady,” he said, his brow raised, “as I would be greatly hurt if it were.”
“I assure you, it is the truth, My Lord.”
“Good,” Lord Greystone said firmly. “As I greatly wish for us to be on the same page.”
Cecelia nodded her own agreement, yet movement out of the corner of her eye caused her to glance over his shoulder.
It was then that she was surprised to find she was not the only one in her friend group on the dance floor.
Some distance off, Elizabeth had been led to dance by none other than the Duke of Cumberland.
An odd sensation coiled in her stomach as she saw his grace’s hand on the small of her friend’s back.
“I admit, My Lady, I was a little discerned when I witnessed how many callers you had,” Lord Greystone said, drawing her attention back to him. “Though, I can see all too easily why you are so popular of late.”
His words made her face heat unbelievably.
