Page 45 of The Mistletoe Dare

“It was my pleasure, I assure you.” His expression grew serious. “I hope you will not allow those vacuous creatures to spoil your evening. They are the kind to criticise everyone, even each other, for their own amusement. You must not heed them.”

Evie laughed and shook her head. “Of course not. My self-esteem is not so fragile as that. Actually, Lofty and Dumpling are quite accurate, I suppose, and I rather adore dumplings. I’d take it as a compliment, only they meant to taunt, of course, which is never pleasant. They may think what they like, though. Georgie looks quite stunning, and I adore parties. I’ve decided you were quite right about the silly diet, too. I was foolish to let Madame Blanchet overset me. I don’t know what I was thinking. The food tonight is too delicious not to enjoy. Plus, my gown is the prettiest I have ever seen. Nothing will spoil this evening for me, I assure you.”

“I am glad, ma petite. I cannot stand to see you unhappy.”

She looked up at him, touched by his obvious concern. “How could one be unhappy at such a marvellous party and in such good company?”

She felt his hand cover hers, his expression warm and approving. “You look stunning, Miss Knight, and that gown is a triumph. I do not know whether to congratulate myself or wish I’d been a deal less clever.”

She gave him a curious glance, not taking his meaning.

He sighed. “There’s not a man here who hasn’t noticed you,” he said, not looking entirely pleased by the fact.

Evie laughed, startled. “Don’t be silly.”

“I am not being silly,” he said curtly, but they were obliged to halt the conversation as a young man she knew hurried up to her.

“Miss Knight,” he said, smiling broadly at her. “Might you jot me down upon your dance card? If it’s not full, that is,” he added.

Evie smiled at him. “Of course, Mr Greaves. I shall save you a country dance.”

“Oh, jolly good. Until then.” He executed a neat bow and took himself off.

“See?” Louis said darkly as she jotted his name on her fan.

Evie snorted, amused. “I always dance with Mr Greaves. He’s very nice.”

Louis muttered something she didn’t catch, but guided them back to where his brother and Eliza were standing. He fell into conversation with Nic as Eliza tugged her aside.

“Oh, Evie, do let me introduce you,” she said, smiling at her. “This is Mr Jonathan Price and Mr Jeffrey Hadley-Smythe. Gentlemen, this is my dear friend, Miss Evie Knight.”

A lively conversation ensued as Mr Price and Mr Hadley-Smythe were easy-going gentlemen and it appeared they had several acquaintances in common.

“Ashburton is here, isn’t he?” Evie said, finding they all knew the Marquess and Marchioness of Montagu’s eldest son, the Earl of Ashburton. Ashburton had told Jules he was coming, so he must be among the throng. She suspected his parents must have forced him to attend, for he was not one for society, unlike his younger brother, Thomas.

“Yes. So’s his pa. Caused a stir as usual, with ladies swooning all around. The two of them together are more than some women can take,” Mr Price said dryly, before adding. “Though that fellow seems to cause as much stir all by himself. Who is he?”

His sour expression spoke volumes and Evie suspected more than a touch of the green-eyed monster. She did not need to turn her head to know he spoke of Louis César.

“The Comte de Villen,” she said with a smile, feeling a burst of pride in her friend.

“Oh, a Frenchie,” Mr Price said, somewhat disparagingly.

Evie scowled, irritated, and struggled to bite back an angry comment.

Mr Hadley-Smythe hurried to fill the gap, aware of Evie’s indignation. “Might you do me the honour of a dance, Miss Knight?” he asked. “There’s a waltz beginning if you’ve not already a partner?”

Evie looked up into his eager brown eyes. He had a friendly face and looked to be the kind of man who was willing to be pleased by everything. She decided she liked Mr Hadley-Smythe far more than his friend.

“I don’t, and I should like that very much,” she said, and took his arm.

Rochford watched Georgie dancing with the comte’s brother, Nic, relieved the man was married. He felt like a cat on hot bricks, certain that some nicer, handsomer fellow would spot the treasure that was right in front of them and sweep her away before he got the chance. Of course, that was hardly his only problem. He didn’t have the least idea how one went about courting a woman, but he needed to discover the trick of it, and quickly. Though if courting relied solely upon charm and romantic gestures, he was in deep trouble. He hadn’t even managed to apologise without causing a row. Still, he’d got there in the end, and she had danced with him, which still seemed something of a miracle. She’d even appeared to enjoy it.

Remembering how very right it had felt to hold her in his arms stirred something anxious and panicky in his chest and he battered it down with difficulty. He told himself this was ridiculous. He barely knew the girl and he must stop getting himself in such a lather. The likelihood was she wouldn’t want to marry him. She didn’t want to marry him, she’d told him twice at least. The idea of being a duchess clearly didn’t appeal, and he was hardly a catch if you put that attraction to one side. Jules was a fool, and Rochford himself was a bigger one for getting his hopes up, and yet—he was going to try. He had to try, even if his chances were slim at best. So what if he made a horse’s arse of himself? It would hardly be the first time. Besides, how hard could it be? He could ask her to dance again. That would be a start, and then… perhaps tomorrow he could take her out riding with him. That was what courting couples did, wasn’t it? He chewed at his lip and decided he’d best ask Joe what he thought. The devil was always full of advice, whether or not it was wanted. He’d been right about the beard.

“Good evening, your grace.”

Rochford looked around to see Miss Knight at his elbow. Of everyone at this house party—except for Georgie—she was easiest person to be around. He did not intimidate her, and she didn’t seem to expect anything of him. She was quite content to sit in silence, but she didn’t look horrified if he spoke to her either.