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He most likely still thought of her as a child…though they had shared that spectacular kiss the day of his father’s burial.
The kiss that had haunted Tricia’s dreams for the past twelve months.
She could still feel his lips on hers. Still smell the earthy tinge of the brisk air. Still see his beautiful brown eyes as he looked at her. As he offered his apologies.
He looked much the same now, except his forehead held some new wrinkles. The year had been turmoil for him. Rose had spoken of it from time to time, and of course whenever Thomas’s name came up, Tricia had perked up her ears.
“You dance divinely,” Lord Victor said to her.
“Oh.” Tricia looked back to meet the gaze of her dancing partner. “Thank you very much, my lord. You do as well.”
The dance came to an end, and Tricia gave a short curtsy.
“Thank you for the dance, my lady,” Victor said with a smile. “May I offer you a refreshment?”
It would be rude to refuse, though Tricia desperately wanted to go talk to Lady Ashford and Thomas. It wouldn’t be out of place, after all. They were practically family.
“Of course,” she said. “That would be lovely.”
Lord Victor offered his arm and she slid her gloved hand onto his elbow as they walked toward one of the refreshment tables.
“Wine?” he asked.
“I shall stick with lemonade for now,” Tricia said. “Wine does make me fretfully tired.”
“We don’t want that,” Lord Victor said with a wink. “I’d like you fully alert so we can share another dance.”
Such a brazen flirtation might have normally unsettled Tricia, but she felt absolutely nothing at Lord Victor’s suggestion. Her gaze—and her heart—remained steadfastly focused on Thomas, who had still not taken a single young lady to the dance floor.
“I should enjoy that,” Tricia said.
Indeed, Lord Victor was handsome and a wonderful dancer. She knew next to nothing about him, other than he was a friend of the duke’s and a neighbor of Thomas’s, as his father’s estate was adjacent to the Ashford’s. She would ask Cameron, but when she looked for him, she saw that he and Rose were dancing. They looked so beautiful together. Rose’s pale blondness contrasted Cameron’s hair as dark as coal, just like Tricia’s.
Now what?
She couldn’t monopolize Lord Victor. Nor did she want to. Though Thomas seeing her dance with others wouldn’t necessarily be a bad thing.
She glanced again toward Thomas when another young gentleman approached them. “Lord Victor,” he said, “I would consider it a favor if you could introduce me to this lovely young lady.”
Victor raised an eyebrow. “Of course. Lady Patricia Price-Adams, I’d like to present Mr. Jonathan Jameson, cousin to the earl.”
“Oh!” Tricia nearly dropped her lemonade. “How have we never met then? You know my brother is married to the earl’s sister Rose.”
This time Mr. Jameson nearly dropped his jaw. “You are that Patricia? I’m truly charmed.” He took Tricia’s hand and brushed his lips over her white glove.
She drew her hand away, and beside her, Lord Victor looked anything but pleased.
“Might you honor me with the next dance, my lady?” Mr. Jameson asked.
She eyed the earl’s cousin. He was devastatingly handsome. Indeed he resembled Thomas a bit—the same dark good looks—though he was a few inches shorter.
“Yes, of course, sir,” Tricia said.
She took Mr. Jameson’s hand and let him lead her back to the dance floor where the next dance, a waltz, was beginning.
Tricia knew how to waltz well. She and Kat had spent many fun afternoons practicing the steps around their small home on the Lybrook estate near Bath while Cameron strummed his guitar or plucked out a tune on their old pianoforte.
Tricia loved living the luxurious life, but there were times when she looked back on those simpler days with fondness. They were always together, and even though they didn’t have a lot, they were happy. She and Kat were, at least. Cameron was always a bit broody, especially after he met and fell in love with Rose and knew he couldn’t have her.
