The drawing room was off-limits because it was occupied by Edwina and the gentlemen who had been calling on her. Each visit was overseen by her mama despite Kate's protests that she should be there too. Lady Danbury had insisted that Kate's overwhelming presence would not help the process, at least for the time being. Kate had admitted that she was perhaps too eager to examine her sister's potential suitors and it probably showed.
Clashing with the will of her sister's sponsor was far from desirable, so Kate agreed to remain unseen but she would not negotiate being away from where Edwina's future was being decided. She found the perfect spot that allowed her to stay hidden from the long line the gentlemen had formed. At the same time she could examine them on their way out with as much scrutiny as she wished.
Kate wondered if asking for a glass to amplify the sound from the room would have a better result. The door wasn't thick enough to drown every word but still some parts of the conversation came muffled. Perhaps she could open it just enough to-
"I am afraid you will have to abandon your post, Miss Sharma. You have a guest of your own to tend to."
Lady Danbury stood regal on her left side. With a flick of her wrist one of the footmen walked to Kate and extended his hand that held a small silver tray. An elegant calling card was on it.
"A Mr Dorset has come for you, Miss Sharma."
"The library will do, Jeffrey." Lady Danbury gave the order and the footman nodded calmly as though it made no difference to him if Kate would meet Mr Dorset in the library, the kitchen or the stable.
Kate cared neither but for different reasons.
She had been prepared for his visit but it was badly timed. Edwina was speaking with Lord Lumley, the most promising candidate of the bunch her sister had attracted. Kate simply could not miss that meeting for the sake of a gentleman who had nothing she needed.
Lady Danbury's impatient frown did not allow Kate to even articulate that request let alone fight for it.
"Your sister's prospects lay in your behavior as much as they do in hers. Sneering upon the ton's favored sons is a mistake." Kate doubted it was only Thomas Dorset she was speaking of.
"You will be dangling Edwina's future before me until she will be expecting her first child, won't you?"
"Preferably not. Probably until you are walking down the aisle in a wedding gown, Miss Sharma."
Kate did not appreciate the threat but she admired the tenacity of it.
Whatever she had been inflicted with after her encounter with the incorrigible Viscount had left her system. Him and any talk of suitors for her had been trivial nonsense and she had work to do.
She posed for her host for the moment of inspection, knowing that her appearance was flawless. Lady Danbury's experienced eye would find nothing to correct. It was gratifying getting such a win. The intention wasn't lost on the old lady who dismissed her with a sly smile.
"Shall we?" Lady Danbury gestured the way to the library.
Thomas Dorset was courteous with his comments about Kate and her family and enthusiastic about anything Kate would be interested in. It was rather obvious but he was very polite. It was just the level of excitement that Kate was comfortable with. Once again she did not count the seconds until he'd leave and she would not miss him when he'd be gone. She smiled sweetly, because she did find him a pleasant conversationalist, providing him with the satisfaction one owed on such occasions. It was for his benefit as well as for Lady Danbury's. But sadly for both of them still, nothing more stirred inside her.
Her mind was clear and her priorities in order. Nothing, no one, would rattle her.
…
Before arriving at the Danbury House, Anthony went through the details of his plan with his mother. She noted for one more time that she did not agree with his idea, but he insisted.
That morning he wasn't a typical gentleman caller, offering flattery and flowers to the woman he intended to court and eventually marry. He was simply a dutiful son accompanying his mother to a visit at the house of his sister's husband's godmother to invite her, and her guests, if they would do them the honor, for dinner. It was bold enough to make an impression but not an absurd one. He and his mother were offering an evening away from formalities. Supposedly.
"The traditional path of expressing your interest and intentions is always preferable in order to avoid misunderstanding and confusion, Anthony. Have you learned nothing from your sister's troubles last year?"
She had a perfectly valid point, of course, but she was lacking a few crucial pieces of information; Anthony had gotten himself on Miss Sharma's bad side and she would not welcome him as a suitor in Lady Danbury's drawing room even if she was desperately looking for a husband. Most probably she would laugh, say something that would wound his pride and leave him speechless before slamming the door in his face. All that, before he could finish saying good morning.
No. Traditional methods were not an option. The secret to winning an opponent so hell bent on thwarting you and perhaps, if given the chance, destroying you was to put them in a trap that they could not foresee and from which they could not escape.
"Trust me, mother. What you suggest will not work."
"Is there a specific reason for assuming that?" His mother knew him well enough to know he was keeping something from her, but if she began to suspect that whatever it was he was hiding would harm his prospects, she'd interfere as she had done by calling everyone's attention to the fact that he was searching for a bride. If he could have, he would have avoided including her in the scheme but her contribution to it was detrimental, so he tried to make her see the merits of his idea.
"You said that Miss Sharma doesn't wish to marry, did you not? I cannot imagine she would react well to me announcing my intention to court her."
"I cannot imagine she would react well to indirect half-truths and pretense, Anthony. No one would. But honesty? A clever woman like her would appreciate that." She allowed a moment of silence to highlight her point. "Isn't your interest in her honest? If it is not, we shouldn't bother her. If you are not certain-"
"I am. But I do not wish to overwhelm her and scare her with my wishes."
It had been an unwise choice of words because they might lead his mother to hope for something deeper that would never be, but as long as it worked… Her smile told him it did.
"Let's hope that Lady Danbury will be your ally."
That wasn't the hopeless gamble he had feared. Lady Danbury, with last year's successful matching for her godson, would want to continue on that streak and bring to the altar another soul who objected to matrimony. And Anthony planned to make her see that a Bridgerton, just like his sister before him, was the ideal choice for her latest project.
It would work. Perfectly.
With that, his mother ceased her objections and turned her attention to other matters.
Daphne's reports on little Auggie's never-ending string of accomplishments was her favorite subject lately, embellished with stories of wedded bliss in the Basset household, probably to inspire Anthony to search for the same.
He gave her all the appropriate responses to keep her from sharing more insufferable details.
Wedded contentment would suffice in his case.
A sudden halt of the carriage told them that they had reached their destination. Helping his mother to step out of the carriage on the Danbury driveway, Anthony heard Dorset calling his name.
He turned to look for his old friend on the side of the road, but Dorset appeared coming from the house. It took Anthony some time to register that information.
"Bridgerton, Lady Bridgerton," Dorset greeted them. "How are you this morning?" The laugh in his eyes did not match the mannerly tone he intended for Anthony's mother. There would be some teasing of course; not many gentlemen would be seen paying such calls with their mothers in tow.
"My mother wished to visit Lady Danbury this morning. You do remember that Hastings, her godson, is married to my sister Daphne. We are almost family."
"Of course," Dorset replied, unconvinced. "I was at the wedding. How are the Duke and the Duchess?"
"Busy and marvelously happy," his mother answered him. "And you, Mr Dorset? We haven't seen you at the house in ages. You must come for dinner one of these days."
It was possible that his mother was just being polite. Invitations were passing on people's lips faster than anything a morning greeting. On the other hand perhaps she was hoping that Dorset could be quiet enough to not annoy Eloise and maybe trick her into not forsaking all men.
"I would be delighted. I do see your sons at White's but there are members of the Bridgerton family one cannot find in a gentleman's club! I daresay they are far more charming company."
His mother smiled at the remark. "I shall send you a note with a date."
Dorset bowed, as Anthony's mother moved away from them and closer to the entrance. Dorset turned to Anthony to say his goodbye. "I will see you later at White's?"
"Were you at the Danbury house just now?" Anthony finally asked what had bothered him.
"I was, yes."
It did have the unfortunate effect of strong irritation.
"Lady Danbury kept me a little longer at the door. She has enough gossip to fill ten of Whistledown's pages," he went on. "Did you know that Philip Campbell broke his engagement?"
"Shame." Anthony neither knew nor cared. "Did you only see the old lady? Not anyone else?"
"No, actually." Dorset lowered his eyes and wore a crooked smile. "I have been recently acquainted with Lady Danbury's guests and I did say hello."
Anthony imagined Dorset's unimpressive figure walking timidly in the house, delivering his pathetic calling card to the footman and with dull manners, giving him the name of the woman he wanted to see.
It was safe to assume that Lady Mary wasn't his target. The choice was between Miss Sharma and her younger sister.
A lump rose in Anthony's throat, a deep frown creased his forehead and his back teeth hurt from clenching them too tightly. His irritation turned to a piercing feeling at the base of his skull.
"I had the most pleasant morning with the most pleasant company."
Anthony relaxed and felt the sun shining upon him again. Dorset couldn't have spent time with Miss Sharma, believing that it had been a pleasant meeting for her. No. It could never be. With fiery passion coursing through her veins, it would be a penance for her to sit five minutes in Dorset's company and she would let him know of it. If Anthony found her challenging, Dorset would not be able to breathe in her presence and she was far too busy to watch him sweating uncomfortably.
Dorset must have been visiting Miss -eh what was the name of the younger sister? Not Edna but something close to that. It did not matter.
Quiet, shy and docile Thomas Dorset considering making a move at Miss Sharma was ridiculous. How on Earth did Anthony even think of that?
He thanked God for not embarrassing himself by speaking of his ludicrous suspicions.
…
As soon as Thomas Dorset left the Danbury house, Kate returned to what she had traveled all those nautical miles for; her sister. Lord Richardson, who was now being entertained by Edwina, had a much clearer voice and enunciated his words in a way that any hearing aid was unnecessary.
A maid appeared in the corridor, walking carefully but decidedly in her direction. She wouldn't have given the girl a second glance because Edwina was asking Lord Richardson a very important question according to what Kate had instructed her to find out about each of the men who expressed their interest in her, but the sight of two of her evening gowns on the maid's arms tore her attention away.
"Ah, just in time for Madame Delacroix's arrival." Lady Danbury wasn't further behind and neither was the ton's most celebrated modiste. Lady Danbury beckoned Kate to come closer.
"Lady Danbury, Miss Sharma. Bonjour!" The modiste's charming French accent did not make her entrance less annoying. The first time Kate had met the woman she had felt inspired by her penchant for enterprise, especially in such a competing environment. Now Madame Delacroix would be on the enemy's side and it was harder to admire her work ethic.
"Bonjour, madame," Kate said and gave her her most uncompromising look.
"The black dress needs some brightening. A cream sash perhaps." Lady Danbury wrinkled her nose, concentrating on the task at hand.
"How about accenting it?" Madame Delacroix asked. "May I suggest something simple for the neck? A dark velvet choker with a gemstone on it." Her eyes gleamed. "How do you like emerald, Miss Sharma?"
"I like it just fine," she gestured at her morning dress that was in a soft emerald tone. "But isn't a choker a little bold?" What had happened to silly tiaras that made her look like a lost princess' older cousin? She needed those.
"And the white dress needs new sleeves. They are too stiff, like collars." Lady Danbury ignored her. She might have expressed no opinion on Kate's morning wardrobe yet but only a few evening pieces were safe from her criticism. "I want them flowing. Miss Sharma will dance in that dress. We cannot have her passing as a mannequin."
"They will be light as a lover's touch."
Kate did not gasp because of the impropriety of Madame Delacroix's remark; she left that for Lady Danbury. Kate was taken aback by the shiver on her skin imagining the capable hands of a specific dark eyed gentleman making any contact with her bare arms.
"Apologies, my lady." The modiste was visibly upset by her mistake. "I did not-"
"Miss Sharma is no blushing débutante, madame, but her reputation cannot suffer any comments like that. Let's keep that in mind." Lady Danbury scolded people like no one Kate had seen before. It was in the tone. Kate envied it. "But naturally you understood my meaning."
Madame Delacroix seemed able to breathe again.
Apparently Lady Danbury would guard Kate's reputation like a german shepherd but she would display her for all to see. Kate's plan to remain an obscure detail hovering around Edwina was doomed.
Lady Danbury whispered something only Madame Delacroix could hear and then the modiste disappeared into the Dowager's private living room to prepare for the fitting.
"I am not comfortable with you paying for me-"
"I am your sponsor, Miss Sharma." Lady Danbury interrupted her. "Paying for your expenses is heavily implied."
"You are my sister's sponsor, my lady, not mine. And I have no expenses. I have all I need."
"Nonsense. London Season is when the city's traders make a living. Will you deprive them of it?"
If the future of the country's economy rested on her petticoats and chemises, then the English were truly destitute. Kate kept that thought to herself not wishing to hear another lecture on the impact her actions would have on Edwina's prospects and joined the modiste.
…
"Lord Bridgerton is here." Edwina told her, making Kate spin on her heel and risking being pricked by the needle in the modiste's hands.
Her ears were ringing from hearing that phrase.
"To see Lady Danbury." Edwina, having been told an appropriate version of Kate's encounters with the Viscount, quickly came to inform her not only of the man's arrival but also of the excuse he had used.
Kate watched Edwina biting her lower lip. Her sister, with her heart of gold, was looking for a line or even a point of defense for the Viscount. "Actually, he accompanied his mother..."
Kate rolled her eyes over Madame Delacroix's head. Was the family card the one he was playing, then? A clever maneuver but the lie was too transparent. Kate knew that Lady Danbury's godson was married to a Bridgerton but what of it? Whatever relation existed between the Danburys, the Hastings and the Bridgertons, a gentleman who was in search of a wife with the businesslike focus the Viscount applied to the effort would spend his mornings visiting unmarried young ladies to see if they were suitable to bear his name, not playing the role of dame de compagnie to his mother. Especially with so many children in the family to relieve him of that duty. Seven, according to what Edwina had told her about the Bridgertons. Five if the one did not count the two youngest.
No. He was there with his own agenda.
"Thank you, bon." With a nod Kate sent Edwina back to the drawing room to gather more information. Her sister smiled nervously and exited the room.
"We won't be long, miss." The modiste was quick to adjust her working pace.
"Please, madame," Kate was in no hurry. "Take your time. The task is important."
"Lady Danbury would argue that your guests would be more important."
"Lady Danbury can be as contrary as she chooses but we are only doing as we are told!"
"All the same, I shall not keep you."
There was no mirror available but Kate trusted the modiste since it had to be done. And then suddenly she saw the true potential of the change. "Do you think the white dress will be ready for the Queen's ball? I believe I will need it."
"Yes, Miss Sharma." The modiste promised. "It will be wonderful."
It did excite Kate. A lot more than she would have thought.
"Good luck with your guest."
Guest, not guests. That comment couldn't be for the Dowager Viscountess. So, Madame Delacroix knew and understood more than she let on. Perhaps she could help Kate with the ton in a way Lady Danbury couldn't.
"Thank you, madame."
And then Kate was left alone to curse.
Bridgerton!
If he had stayed away as she clearly had warned him to do, she had been prepared to let him go unpunished for his behavior at the Conservatory.
But now he was in the Danbury drawing room which for all intents and purposes was hers too.
Why?
Did the machiavellian schemer believe that he could show his smug face there, sip his tea and try his tricks?
Fine.
She would let the Viscount play his games but she would hide her best card up her newly shewn sleeve.
…
The room was beautiful, the tea was well prepared and the company was amiable. Anthony appreciated none of that. Miss Sharma was missing and little else had any point. He had been told that she was busy with a dress fitting and to help the time pass he entertained the image of expensive silk and lace sliding on and especially down Miss Sharma's curves.
"Lady Danbury, you are a menace!" His mother burst out laughing, bringing him back from his musings.
"One had to be, to survive that evening. You were lucky that the Duchess had invited you all to Clyvedon at the time!"
"Will the Duchess be at the Queen's ball?" Miss Edwina -he knew he wasn't entirely misremembering her name, give or take a few letters- was very anxious to have someone with similar experience to talk to.
"His Grace was here the other morning to help me with a contract for a new lease and he did mention that the Duchess looks forward to it."
"Oh, yes." His mother replied. "They both are."
Yes, the Duke of Hastings was famous for his love for anything concerning the London Season! Honestly, mother. If Daphne had not had such a hold on him, Simon Basset would hardly set foot in London during the summer. It would require a look at his portrait to remind the ton of his visage.
"My apologies," Miss Sharma walked in. In her green dress she looked like a nymph. The little braid on her shoulder was a little touch of their first meeting. Anthony did not realize he had been following her with his eyes until she had reached her sister's side and he noticed Miss Edwina's confused stare at him.
"Lady Bridgerton, it is my pleasure to present to you Miss Kathani Sharma. Miss Sharma, this is Lady Bridgerton's son, Lord Anthony Bridgerton."
Pretending to not know each other was an unspoken agreement between them. Quite frankly it was their only choice.
Miss Sharma smiled and kept that smile as she shifted her attention from his mother to him.
So far so good. But not enough. That civility was protecting her and not necessarily encouraging him.
"My lady, my lord." She curtsied and he stopped thinking if she looked at him or how and what it meant. He only looked at her. The comparison to how her sister had curtsied earlier was natural. It was like seeing the work of an apprentice and then setting eyes on the master's talent. Miss Edwina was proper and accurate, not daring to own the movement; the perfect little performer. Miss Sharma did not perform. For anyone. She did not need to, aware of how beautiful her little imperfections were. "I am delighted to make your acquaintance."
It was warm enough but closer to a hot challenge.
It nearly rendered him speechless. His surprise heightened the tension he felt as he bowed his head briefly. "Miss Sharma."
"Miss Sharma, it is a pleasure. I heard a lot about you last night."
"Likewise, my lady. You made quite an impression on Edwina."
"Indeed," Lady Mary said, making her youngest daughter blush a little.
"I hope you haven't been pulled from something too important to see us," his mother told her.
"No, my lady."
It would have been nice to think that she had deemed his visit important enough to set aside anything else. She would never run down the stairs to ask the footman if a gentleman had called on her, but Anthony did want to be the reason for that subtle look of defiant satisfaction that suited her so perfectly.
"Madame Delacroix and I had almost finished." She fixed her eyes on him for a second and then they wandered at her mother. "Mama, Lady Danbury has decided to surprise me with this wonderful gift."
Lady Mary smiled with gratitude. "It was very generous of you, Lady Danbury."
The conversation barrelled into fashion choices, smart and ill-advised alike, and Anthony would not participate. With nothing else to do he returned to imagining Miss Sharma during her dress fittings. Now that he had a better idea of her figure it was far more entertaining.
Lady Danbury mentioned Hastings again and his mother was quick to react.
"Did his Grace mention that he and Daphne will be joining us for dinner the day after the Queen's ball? Your great godson will not be there I am afraid, but we would still love to have you with us, Lady Danbury."
"Seeing the Duke and the Duchess is incentive enough. I shall be there." Lady Danbury's little nod towards his mother after her response to the invitation was noticeable. Just how many schemes were at play at the moment would be hard to calculate. At a later time Anthony would have to remind his mother that working without him would bring no good results.
"Lady Mary," his mother was finally moving to the reason for their visit, "will you and your daughters do us the honor of joining us too? It will be an intimate gathering, of course…"
"How lovely," Miss Edwina commented. It was easy pleasing her. Miss Sharma was lucky.
Lady Mary seemed reluctant. "Perhaps we shouldn't impose on a family occasion."
She still carried the weight of being away from England for years. Even with Lady Danbury's help, her hesitation around people she did not know was evident. Anthony knew that his future mother in law would have to learn to be more comfortable with accepting invitations if she wanted Miss Edwina to marry well.
"It would be no imposition, Lady Mary. An informal family dinner is the perfect way to release some tension. His Grace wasn't a huge fan of family dinners but one night with the Bridgertons..." His mother would never be accused of underselling an idea.
"It sounds like a life altering experience, doesn't it?" Lady Dunbury said. Perhaps a little too pointedly.
Miss Sharma took a small piece of lemon cake from her sister's plate. Anthony did not expect that small ordinary action would freeze his attention, but he could not move his eyes from her mouth until she licked the icing from her lip. Then he turned his eyes to the carpet beneath his feet. He couldn't let them know…
He did not want her to know how strongly he depended on that upcoming dinner, either. But he had to speak.
"If you don't have anything else arranged," he said, feeling the need to cough between his words to clear his throat, "we would be delighted to receive you in all our informal glory."
He waited.
Miss Sharma took a small breath, her head tipping a little upwards. The first signs of his victory were drawn on her subtle look of defiant satisfaction.
"It would be a refreshing night after meeting the Queen." Just like he, Miss Sharma did not address the almost acceptance to someone in particular but everyone knew the conversation was between them.
"Then we shouldn't miss it," Lady Mary said with little confidence.
"Wonderful." His mother shared a look with Lady Danbury while Miss Edwina spoke again.
"Is it nerve-racking standing before the Queen?"
His mother tried to comfort her. "I am sure everything will be well, Miss Edwina."
Miss Edwina's debut seemed to have had its toll on her. "How is Miss Bridgerton coping with it?"
"Oh, Eloise is different. Definitely different from Daphne who was last season's diamond. Eloise will-"
"Enjoy the season as best as she wishes," Anthony said, sensing a good opportunity.
"Anthony!"
"Come now, mother." Miss Sharma was hooked and it took great concentration to avoid the smug expression that was forming on his face. "Lady Danbury knows Eloise and the ladies will see her at the ball if they did not notice her last night. My sister," he turned to the Sharmas, "is not the type for what society has to offer. She is more of a scholar. I had to set a separate account for her at the bookstore just to keep track of her purchases. If she could bring a book on the dancefloor she would have."
"Dearest," his mother told him. "Do not tease your sister."
"I don't, mother, but let's allow her the chance to enjoy her first season as much as she wants." There. Was that consideration enough of a lady's opinion? He hoped it was.
Miss Sharma brought her dark eyes to him. "I am certain, Lord Bridgerton, that you are very confident in your sister's success."
"What I know is that very little will be gained by being overly worried." It may have begun as a small performance for Miss Sharma, but in the end perhaps it was something that both he and his mother had to accept as far as Eloise was concerned.
His mother started talking to Edwina about her own first season and Lady Danbury was speaking with Lady Mary. Only he and Miss Sharma were left in their silence until she broke it.
"Sometimes I do feel ill-equipped for her guidance." Miss Sharma said, watching her sister. He knew that look. His own mirror knew that look very well. "Perhaps…"
That moment of lowering her guard was priceless and he almost felt guilty for taking advantage of it but he had been leading the meeting to that point, to create a link with her. To show her the connection they could build. "If I can be of help in that regard, you need only ask."
"I… I see I am the only one without tea," was all she said and then she moved to the big table to help herself from the tea tray.
For a few seconds Anthony tried to read the room. No one present would mind if he followed Miss Sharma for a more private moment. They were still in the same room. Technically chaperoned.
"Am I completely misreading the situation or are we turning a new leaf?"
No one could describe Miss Sharma as demure, but a rare shyness colored her cheeks when she spoke. "I admit it, my lord. There is a chance I may have judged you too harshly."
"Well, I think-"
"Milk?"
"Excuse me?"
"For your tea."
"Oh, yes."
"Sugar?"
"No, thank you."
"Of course."
He saw her adding something more.
"What is that?"
"Cinnamon."
"I wouldn't…"
"Have you had it before?"
"No, but-"
"It is like those family dinners of yours. It will change you."
"I am not as good with change as his Grace, Miss Sharma."
"All the more reason for you to trust me."
"Trust you? To change me?"
"Only as far as a cup of tea is at stake. If that is all you can manage." A soft voice penetrated his defenses and he could think of no reason not to trust her. For a cup of tea, at least.
He watched her working and only when she finished did he remember that he already had been served a cup and he did not particularly enjoy tea. But there was tea and there was tea prepared by Miss Sharma.
She offered him the cup, her thumb running the small curve below the rim of the saucer, waiting for him to reach for it. Tricked that he could have actually touched her, he was bold enough to try but missed her in the blink of an eye.
"It is rather hot, be careful." His eyes shouldn't have been on her chest, when she said those words but they were and it was bad. Watching it rise and fall, filling her tight bodice with the low cut neckline.
If they had been alone. If he could get her alone…
But they weren't alone. Two mothers, a sister and a dragon were watching them.
"My lord?" it was just a whisper but there was something in its rhythm, its resonance. It was like a pulse beating against his skin.
He turned away to face the sofas where the three women were sitting, their attention on Miss Edwina and her worries. Mundane, safe.
"Are you certain that I can trust you?"
"Lord Bridgerton, we will not go very far if you keep questioning my ability to be nice to you."
"You know what they say, Miss Sharma." There was a rather unflattering portrait of the late Lord Dunbury and it would be Anthony's focus for the foreseeable future. "Seeing is believing."
"Is it?"
He heard the soft rustling of her dress brushing against his jacket. He felt the light pressure of her body on his arm. He saw her face moving slightly into the sunlight that was coming from the window. But he knew she had leaned in when her scent filled the air around him.
Lilies.
"What about dancing, my lord?" she asked. "Is dancing believing?"
"Dancing?" When he made the mistake of turning his eyes to her, two embers were looking at him.
"You did ask for a dance last night." Her shoulder grazed against his as she moved in reverse of the movement that had brought her closer than she had ever been. "It was an unorthodox request but there was no mistaking it."
No time to lose, then. "Miss Sharma, will you do me the honor of your next dance?"
"At the Queen's ball you shall have the first set." A new smile came to her lips and he wanted to taste it. "You have to earn the second one."
The bitterness of the tea she had been drinking would be on those lips. The sweetness of the cake she had eaten would be there. The taste of her surrender would be there too.
"You know I will."
"I know you will try."
With her back to the rest of the room, as though what she'd do was only meant for him, she came to stand before him. Her fingers reached for the saucer in his hands. Her thumb, just a hair's breadth away from his, repeated its slow path across the porcelain. If he would move a muscle she would be touching him.
But neither would dare to…
He stood there, hungry for the contact that would not come.
"It is still hot, I am afraid."
He watched her lifting the saucer so that the cup was close to her mouth. The steam moved like a tiny, wavy pillar. It vanished when she blew lightly against it, sending a ripple on the liquid's calm surface and Anthony felt that if he wouldn't close his eyes and try to calm, he'd have some hard physical reactions to explain.
"My lord?" Dear God, that merciless whisper… He would beg her to use it every night.
"I cannot wait for that dance."
"I know, my lord."
Oh no, Miss Sharma. You have no idea.