Chapter 3 A Well-Needed Bath #2
She would not refuse. There was a pull between the two of them. Neither of them would resist it.
Winging his arm to escort her to the other end of the ballroom, he was acutely aware of her delicate hand as she slid it into the crook of his elbow.
He had escorted ladies thusly hundreds of times before, but never had he felt the rightness of the noble gesture as he did then.
When he thought they might be jostled by the crowd, he reached across with his other hand to protectively cover hers.
This brought them closer together. Her perfume was a mixture of citrus and something warm, something subtle that he couldn’t identify. The scent of her made him think of sunshine.
Michael garnered two glasses of champagne and then located a quiet place to sit. He wanted to keep her to himself—he wanted to know her.
She, apparently, was perfectly fine with this.
The rest of the world disappeared while they sat together.
All that existed in those moments were her eyes, her voice, her lips.
Intent upon this woman alone, he managed to mute the chattering of the other guests in the ballroom, the sounds of the dancers, and even the full orchestra as they played their lively tunes.
Surprisingly, they talked, almost like old friends. But they also flirted like future lovers.
Could it have been fate that brought them together? Did he even believe in such a thing?
He learned she was adventurous and kind-hearted. She loved her family but wasn’t afraid to meet new people. When he spoke of the war, she listened with compassion and understanding, not pressing him for details. She was graceful, warm, and beautiful. She possessed a sense of humor.
They spent an unfashionable, if not scandalous amount of time in each other’s company that night.
He spoke of his estate, Edgewater Heights.
“I do have a property of my own…south, but closer to London. I hadn’t thought about settling down there yet.
” The second the words left his mouth, a different perspective of Edgewater Heights began to evolve in his mind.
As a young bachelor, he’d only considered the property as a source of income, a financial asset.
He had a duty to visit and ensure it was cared for properly.
But in this moment, he could picture it as a home, a future home for himself and his family.
Until now, he’d kept the concept a distant probability.
But meeting this particular woman, looking into her eyes, and listening to her sweet voice, an image began unfolding in his mind.
He suddenly could envision very blond children running about the grounds. He could picture Lilly nurturing the garden, decorating for Christmas.
Warming his bed.
Throughout the evening, he managed to claim three dances (scandalous!) and take a few turns about the room.
Eventually, they slipped out to the garden for a stroll in the cooling air. And again, she tucked her tiny hand through his right arm.
She belonged at his side.
They walked quietly, enjoying the fragrant breeze and moonlit gardens.
The energy sizzling between them rendered moot the need for polite conversation.
Finally, he halted and turned her so they stood face to face.
Keeping one hand on her arm, he let his other drift to her waist. The smooth silk of her dress was light and flimsy; he could feel the ridges of her corset beneath it.
The hour had grown late.
“I know you are excited for the season…I know there are all these new people in London you are dying to meet.” He looked off into the darkness before continuing.
“Every man you meet will be eager to put his name upon your dance card. Your home will overflow with flowers and gifts.” He reached up to play with the tendrils of hair that curled around her ear.
Such tender skin invited his touch. “But I am giving you notice tonight: I intend to court you. And when you are ready, I will speak with your father.”
He spoke with absolute certainty. His words, a vow.
She stared solemnly into his eyes. “As a debutante, I am supposed to be demure…but…” She seemed to hold her breath. Her silence was suspended as leaves rustled nearby and the murmur of the Willoughby guests floated atop the flowerbeds.
“But…?” he whispered, leaning closer to her. He was going to kiss her.
Her palms rested flat against his chest. With such expressive eyes, she would be horrible at cards. When she tilted her head back, Michael knew exactly what she wanted.
“You are a dream,” she whispered.
Or that was what he thought she’d said.
For just then, a group of revelers interrupted their privacy as they traipsed along on an adjacent path. At their approach, she stepped back abruptly.
Her eyes had grown large. She covered her mouth with one hand, apparently stricken with herself.
“What am I doing? Aunt Eleanor and Mama are likely frantic!” She glanced rapidly from left to right as though expecting one of her chaperones to jump out from behind the hedges.
“Oh, Lord! I may very well have broken every rule drummed into me!”
She enchanted him, such an innocent temptress.
“Not every rule, Miss Bridge,” he teased, causing her eyes to widen further.
“Captain Redmond!” She spoke before he could finish.
But he merely laughed. “I’m fairly certain you used all the right utensils at supper.”
She rolled her eyes and shook her head at him. He laughed softly.
Not willing to push their luck, he escorted her back to Lady Eleanor’s and her mother’s side. As he went to take his leave, he apologized for monopolizing the most beautiful lady present. “I shall be calling tomorrow,” he added, “for that carriage ride in the park, Miss Bridge.”
Lilly smiled and looked him squarely in the eyes. “But of course, Captain.”