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Following Caroline’s gaze, Leila turned just in time to see Wolverstone approaching through the crowd of guests.

He moved with the grace of a predator, his dark evening wear making him stand out even among the elegantly dressed attendees. When he reached their group, he offered a perfectly proper bow to the assembled ladies.

“Caroline. Ladies,” he said, his voice smooth as silk. Then his eyes found Leila’s. “Lady Leila, might I have the honor of the next dance?”

Without thinking, she answered, “Yes.”

* * *

Gideon didn’t know what prompted him to ask Leila for a dance.

The moment he stepped into the ballroom, the first thing he noticed was her. Without thinking, he cut across the room, weaving between couples and clusters of gossiping matrons, and approached her.

Yes, Norfolk was there—standing in the middle of the room, flanked by his daughters like some reformed patriarch.

It wasn’t an odd sight now, but it would have been a peculiar one just six months ago. Back then, Norfolk was never seen with his family. He would have rather been caught dead than stand tall beside them. He was most often found in brothels—and not the reputable ones—or at auctions that were even less reputable than those brothels.

And yes, Gideon’s initial plan for the night had been to stand and stare at Norfolk, documenting his every move and noting everyone who dared approach him. Mostly, he watched Norfolk salivate over every debutante that passed by. Tonight, he seemed particularly focused on Miss Charlotte Jones—a woman from a shelter that the Kensingtons patronized. She was an aspiring opera singer whom the Duchess of Kensington invited to every event and solicited invites for to advance her career.

In other words, she was young and she was vulnerable, and that was enough for Norfolk to set his sights on her.

Disgusting. The man was absolutely revolting.

As exciting as it was to watch him embarrass himself in front of his daughters, Gideon realized that simply standing there and staring at him all night would invite too much unwanted attention.

He needed a diversion. He needed to do something to disguise his true intentions.

Of course, that wasn’t why he asked Leila to dance.

Something within him wanted to be close to her in spite of everything.

So I might as well dance.

“I may have been premature in accepting your offer,” Leila said, her fingers tightening on his sleeve as she slowed her step. He could feel the warmth of her touch even through the fabric of his jacket. “I actually don’t know English dances very well. I’m only confident enough to dance the minuet.”

Or perhaps not.

He nodded curtly. “We can wait for a minuet, if you wish. It is bound to play at some point.” Yet, he was reluctant to let her go. “In the meantime, would you like to take a breath of fresh air on the balcony?”

Her fingers relaxed on his sleeve, and a small smile adorned her face. “That would be lovely.”

Gideon glanced back at Norfolk. His rounded face was flushed red from too much wine, and his movements were becoming looser and less controlled. He was standing far too close to poor Miss Charlotte Jones.

Perhaps tonight would be the night Norfolk slipped up—left the ballroom for a moment alone—where Gideon could catch him and finally give him what he truly deserved.

Maybe Norfolk would be unable to resist his urge to seek out a tryst after all this time. Not that Miss Charlotte seemed to reciprocate his affection, but he had seen less probable things happen.

If Norfolk became careless, though, Gideon could catch him off guard. The man was bound to return to his previous debauched ways sooner or later.

Men like Norfolk weren’t known for their discipline. Gideon only hoped it would be sooner.

He would keep an eye on him, even though his attention was directed at another person now.

They reached the balcony doors, and Gideon realized he had been silent the entire way—too lost in thought and too distracted to recognize his rudeness.

He smiled apologetically, his hand reaching for the door handle. “Forgive my silence. I was preoccupied with my thoughts.”

“Not at all.” Her smile was warm, her eyes sincere.