Her hair listed to the side and her gloves were discolored from contact with the floor, but her eyes sparkled enchantingly.
With her white muslin gown and fresh-faced innocence, she was the type of girl he avoided lest an overexcitable mother set her aspirations on him. But something was different about Miss Talbot, something fundamental that signified she was unique.
The first murmur of censure decided him. Being a duke ought to have some benefits, and halting the tide on cankerous gossip had best be one of them.
With as much finesse as he could muster, Oliver bowed. “At your service, miss.”
“Oh!” It was a soft exclamation and probably carried no farther than his ears, even in the quiet room. Then she extended her dusty, glove-clad hand. “Pleased to see you again, Your Grace. Is your sister, Lady Vinedale, here, as well?” Her voice was bright as a bell, but she’d begun to glance about as she realized they were the center of attention. The color began to leech from her face.
“Not this evening, no. May I reserve a dance, Miss Talbot?”
A little furrow appeared between her brows. “Do you jest?”
“No, indeed. May I?” he repeated, then scrutinized her dance card and scribbled his name. He was fairly certain this incident would cost her any and all future dance partners unless he did something. It had nothing to do with a desire to see what she felt like in his arms. William stepped forward in a show of solidarity and begged an introduction and dance of his own.
Oliver then offered his arm. “I recommend a retreat so you can collect yourself. Nothing swift as to suggest embarrassment; a leisured stroll, head held high,” he said in a low voice.
After a moment of hesitation, Miss Talbot smiled and accepted, her hand light and warm where it rested on his forearm. He liked that she was taller than most and he suspected her head would fit perfectly on his shoulder.
The musicians rumbled back into play, but curious eyes stayed fixed on them as they moved a circuitous route around the ballroom and out the door, no doubt wondering about his interest.
He didn’t know what to make of it, either.
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