Page 116 of One Night with an Earl

“You look stunning, Ana.” He kissed the back of her hand. She longed to run her fingers over his coat, to touch his lips with her own and simply have him hold her.

Oliver turned his attention to Ana’s brother and winked. “Hello, Adam. Thank you for taking care of these two lovely ladies until I could arrive.”

Adam nodded, his eyes twinkling. “As you asked. Although please be aware that my sister looked like she was going to bolt until you arrived.”

“Adam!” Ana admonished.

“I promise to put her at ease and take the utmost care of her.” Oliver’s gaze traveled over Ana’s face.

The dowager let out a long sigh as she watched them. “How had I not noticed this entrancement between the two of you before?”

Oliver grinned. “And you look just as lovely, Grandmother.”

“Oh, posh!”

His brows drew together. “Grandmother, are you crying?”

The dowager waved his words away. “Do not be foolish! I never cry, my boy!” In contrast to her words, she dabbed at the corner of her eyes with an embroidered lace handkerchief.

“Then it will be my honor to escort my grandmother inside. Adam, will you do the honor of escorting your sister?” Oliver asked.

Ana understood. Oliver wanted to involve her brother and show that he had a future role in the family. That he would not be left behind or forgotten.

Adam’s chest puffed with pride. “All of us together, then.”

Oliver nodded. “Together.”

Ana placed her hand on Adam’s right arm again. Oliver stood next to Ana, with the dowager on his left. With a deep breath, Ana raised her face, straightened her spine, and swallowed her misgivings as they entered the ballroom.

…

The orchestra struck up a waltz, and Oliver swept Ana onto the dance floor. “I told you that you had nothing to worry over,” he said.

Ana’s smile was radiant. “You have an abundance of arrogance.”

“I rather believe it is my obvious love for you that won everyone over.”

“Oh, posh!” Ana repeated his grandmother’s words.

He threw back his head and laughed. God, how he loved this woman.

Oliver knew that his grandmother was a formidable society hostess herself, and her acceptance and tutelage helped pave the path for Ana. Even Lady Jersey had been gracious and had greeted Ana with a smile. No one gave Ana the cut directly that he’d seen, and many clamored to meet her. Those that wished to avoid her were fewer than he knew Ana had feared. Good. He would not let them ruin her evening or their future happiness.

He was conscious of Ana’s small hand in his larger one as he spun her around the floor.

“You should know, my lord, that I considered wearing red this evening.” Her mouth curved in a compelling fashion, one that hinted at seductive nights and long, lazy afternoon strolls. His body tightened accordingly.

“Ana, you have captured my heart no matter what color you wear.”

“When did you become so charming?”

He leaned an inch closer to whisper in her ear. “My grandmother claims I was born this way, but I know better. You bring out the best in me.”

“I am happy to take the credit for your agreeability.”

He spun her on the dance floor. “Now I can court you as I should have all along. I plan on flowers, poetry, and chocolate.”

“Heavens, you write poetry?”