Page 32 of How to Start a Scandal

Violet couldn’t help but smile at the silliness of the question. ‘Yes, he did. The feather was torn to bits.’

‘I don’t blame the wretch.’

Violet laughed. ‘I don’t either, the poor creature. I am, however, quite impressed with you.’

‘I don’t know what I did, but I am glad to have done it.’

‘Felicity,’ Violet explained. ‘I cannot seem to get the child to be well behaved. But you immediately curled her around your little finger in the space of a single afternoon. How did you do it?’

‘I believe, based on what she’s said of her parents, that she feels somewhat unwanted and abandoned by them. The best way to handle someone in her position is to make them feel wanted again. She just needs the right sort of attention paid to her.’

Violet had heard Felicity say the same things, but apparently had not listened to the same extent Dalton had. ‘How do you know that?’ she asked.

‘If you recall, I had my own qualms with my parents, or rather they had theirs with me. As a result, I was quite rebellious as a youth.’ He flashed her a devilish smile that made the air go thin.

‘You were quite the rogue.’ And, oh, he had been. Drinking, carousing and flirting so shamelessly with Violet that she lay awake many a night, imagining what it would feel like to have his mouth on hers, his hands on her body.

Dalton tilted his head. ‘That’s not too bad, then.’ He slid a wink towards Violet. ‘Rogues are charming, after all.’

‘Oh, you certainly were.’ Too charming.

He leaned closer. ‘And now?’

The final notes of a country dance tinkled to a close.

She studied him, noting the crinkles at the corners of his eyes even when he wasn’t smiling, the hard lines of his jaw that had been etched there by war. He’d been a flirt before he left, a wild, wicked second son with too much time at his disposal and an eagerness to fill it with salacious activities. He’d come back weighted down with the burden of responsibility heaped on his square shoulders, claiming to be different; a better man. But was he?

‘Confusing,’ she answered honestly.

‘Confusing,’ he repeated.

Attendees took their places on the long dance floor.

‘And dangerous.’ She put a hand to her brow, wishing she could draw those words back. ‘Shall we dance now?’

He hesitated before offering his hand. ‘Dangerous?’

‘Do you intend to repeat everything I say?’ she asked. ‘It will be quite a dull conversation if so.’

They stepped on to the dance floor, taking their place with three other couples. The opening notes of a quadrille began.

‘I would never hurt you, Violet,’ he said softly.

She sucked in a breath at his words, but it did not abate the ache yawning open in her chest. Because he had already hurt her. Terribly.

And because she was foolish enough that everything within her longed for him still.

The first pair of couples met in the middle and stepped in time with the music.

‘I did hurt you, though, didn’t I?’ he said perceptively, almost inaudibly from her side. ‘Tell me what happened during your debut.’

She suppressed a wince at his request, but it still sliced deep. ‘Not here.’

‘It was egregious.’ His gaze followed the couples pairing up and gliding over the floor as he spoke.

She was glad etiquette dictated they keep their eyes on the dancers, lest he see the pain on her face. ‘Do you really not remember?’

‘I was in my cups.’ He sighed. ‘I was lost in my own world of selfish melancholy before departing for a life in the military. No one cared that I was leaving and I let it get the better of me. Or the worse of me, as it were.’