Chapter Three #2
As panic threatened again, she took a quick step back, nearly pushing herself right into the ferns. Drawing several deep breaths, she kept her gaze on the floor as she brought her internal rioting back under control.
She hated knowing Lord Waring was standing there watching her struggle to regain herself, but she had no choice. Soon enough, he would grow uncomfortable by her strange reaction—as so many gentlemen had in the past—and he’d make his excuses to leave her in blessed solitude.
“English air is wonderfully bracing,” the viscount observed, his tone light and conversational—a direct contrast to the weighted sensations swirling through her body. “Quite unlike the sultry nights to which I’ve recently grown accustomed.”
His words distracted Eleanor enough that she turned her face into the breeze wafting past her. He was right. The air was nicely invigorating and she wondered where he’d been that the nights were sultry. Had he truly been to Marrakesh as he’d mentioned earlier?
She turned her head a bit, hoping to catch a quick glance of the man from the corner of her eye. Instead, her attention fell on another young gentleman, slim of build with brown hair and angular features, standing a short distance behind the viscount.
Lord Ackerly gazed back at her. His typically quiet, unassuming demeanor appearing unusually tense.
Out of all the gentlemen she’d met in her last season, Lord Ackerly was the closest to one she might have called a friend.
Being almost as uncomfortable with crowds as she was, Ackerly had occasionally found his way to her side as they commiserated over the stress of socializing.
He’d never looked at her with the condescension or disappointment that so many other men had.
But she’d also never gotten the sense that he was interested in her in any way beyond having an occasional wallflower companion.
It was clear by his focused gaze that he was tempted to approach her now, but for the large, hulking presence of Viscount Waring shifting to block his path.
*
Phin angled himself in such a way that his body might mostly bar the view of anyone curious enough to look their way. Though he had no idea what had triggered the deep look of alarm in Lady Eleanor’s eyes, he knew true panic when he saw it.
Thinking on it, he had to wonder if the flicker he saw when their gazes first met might have been the initial spark of her current distress. The idea that he may have caused her discomfort troubled him. He found himself at a loss, fearful of making the situation worse.
As he waited for the lady to expertly gather her composure, he noted how she refused to look at him—or the rest of the room. Her breaths were drawn deep into her lungs before she expelled them slowly. And she kept her body still as she seemed to claim a sense of grounding.
She’d done this before. Many times, he’d wager.
After a few moments, her posture appeared less painfully rigid and the trembling in her hands had subsided. She took a final deep breath and released it on a lengthy sigh. Only then did she lift her focus to his face.
Phin offered a quick and easy smile.
But what was meant to ease her distress only seemed to exacerbate it as her eyes flickered once again and her gaze swiftly left his to dart to the windows before sliding out over the ballroom beyond their private fern corner.
Tension tugged at her brow and pressed her lips into a line.
Her spine stiffened again and her chin lifted when she brought her gaze back to his.
“Thank you for your escort, Lord Waring. You may go.”
The chill in her voice did not leave much room for dissent.
But Phineas’s conscience wouldn’t allow him to leave her alone until he knew she was fully past whatever had caused her torment. Instead, he smiled wider, which in turn deepened her scowl.
Tilting his head, he said, “Apologies, my lady, if I’ve somehow offended you, but I cannot abandon you just yet.”
Her eyes widened fractionally before she looked pointedly away from him. “You have not offended me, my lord. I simply have no need for further escort.”
“Is that a polite way of saying you find my company distasteful?” he teased.
Her eyes flew back to his, a different kind of alarm sparking in their depths.
“I did not—I didn’t—” she stammered from a tense jaw, clearly caught off guard by his blunt question, before stating, “I don’t know you well enough to find you distasteful.”
Phin grinned and gave a nod. “Excellent point. Shall we remedy that so we can discover if you have proper cause to send me on my way?”
The lady eyed him strangely. With her focus on him, she no longer seemed concerned with the rest of the room and whatever had triggered her distress. Instead, she appeared as though she might be getting annoyed with him.
Better annoyed than the fearful panic he’d witnessed a few moments ago.
“I would say that your refusal to do as I requested should be cause enough.”
Phin nodded, as though carefully considering her argument, then gave a careless shrug. “Another excellent point. And I swear it is not my intention to force my company upon you.”
Her elegantly arched eyebrows raised dramatically at that, since it very obviously was his intention.
He chuckled in acknowledgment before continuing, “However, I would not be able to see myself as anything but ungallant if I were to leave you here alone amongst this”—he glanced around them—“dense foliage.”
“Even if I assure you that is exactly what I want?” she pressed, her expression growing more irritated.
He nodded and formed an earnest expression as he glanced out to the ballroom.
“In my experience, anyone who dares such hazardous terrain on their own rarely makes it out alive. I’ve explored the deepest jungles and climbed the most perilous mountains, but there’s nothing quite like the danger to be found in London high society. ”
A truer statement had never been uttered.
When he glanced back to the lady, he saw how her focus had swept toward the ballroom, as well. Uneasiness once again shadowed her stare.
“Maintaining trustworthy company is the only way to make it through,” he added.
The words brought her attention swiftly back to him. Her expression became subtly challenging as she titled her head. The expression suited her immensely.
“Are you saying I should believe you are trustworthy?”
Grinning, he replied in all honestly, “In most things, absolutely. In a few…not so much. But in this, I assure you, I am steadfast.”
Her brows arched again, doubt clear in her eyes.
“Hm,” she said with her lips pressed together.
“I don’t think I shall take that risk, my lord.
I’ll say this one more time and I expect you to honor my words.
” Her stare was direct and decided when she looked into his eyes then. “You may go, Lord Waring.”
He didn’t want to.
And he wasn’t entirely sure why. The lady had clearly regained herself. The panic had subsided, the wild flutter of her pulse had calmed, and the trembling in her hands had quieted. But still, he wished to remain in that corner of ferns with her.
Likely seeing his reluctance, the lady huffed in exasperation, “What must I say to get you to walk away?”
Enjoying the bite of ire in her voice, Phineas leaned toward her. A flicker moved through her gaze as she drew a sharp breath.
And for a sudden, bright moment, he had an almost uncontrollable urge to kiss her. Right there in the corner of the ballroom, in front anyone who cared to glance their way. With her staring up at him in annoyance and crisp night air cooling their faces.
But…despite what most people believed, he was not an impulsive sort. When he took a risk, it was with full, thought-out intention.
Ignoring the sudden press of desire, Phineas forced a light and casual smile. “You need say nothing more, my lady. Again, I apologize for any unintentional offense. Enjoy your evening.”
He bowed then walked away. Perhaps just in time, as he spotted the lady’s brother, Lord Redington, forcefully making his way through the crowd to his sister’s side. The man did not look pleased. Phin got the impression he rarely did.
But at least the lady wouldn’t be alone.