Chapter Twelve
He was certain of two things. One, that his brother had spun some sort of wild twisting of the truth and fed it to Lady Anna. And two, that Henley was the villain in the story. If her expression and the near derision in her eyes were any indicator, a difficult conversation loomed during the waltz.
Not the best time for it.
But he wasn’t about to let his brother tell lies unchecked. No, he’d made the choice to fight, to stand up—and apparently, it started with the waltz. Delightful. It wasn’t exactly how he’d hoped the evening would unfold, but he fought the battles he was given.
Before long, the first strains of the supper waltz began to float through the air, and Henley started toward Lady Anna. When she noticed his approach, her eyes flashed with a keen fire that ignited something deep within him—it was like flint striking steel.
“Lady Anna, it would be my honor.” He bowed and offered his hand.
Her cobalt eyes studied him, as if taking his measure, then she—blessedly—accepted. Though her actions spoke of acceptance, her expression warned that a storm was brewing.
As he led them into the swirling dancers, he grasped her waist and pulled her in slightly closer than necessary, grinning unrepentantly when she narrowed her eyes and resisted. He immediately gave her space, allowing her to dictate their proximity.
He might lead the waltz, but she decided how it would play out.
“Out with it. You’re spoiling for a fight, and I have no problem being your sparring partner. I welcome it,” he said as they began dancing.
“I’m the one spoiling for a fight? That’s not the story I heard,” she replied through clenched teeth, then, for show, gave a broad smile to a passing couple.
“It might not be the story you heard, but how often do the stories people tell convey the truth? Hmm? I mean, look at this room—how much of the talk here is fact versus fiction?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
Her blue eyes seared through him. Then she glanced away. If this were poker, he’d question her hand.
“I—Well, if that isn’t the story, then what is? I’m fair. I like to hear both sides before offering judgment.” She gave a defiant tip of her chin.
“Ah, but there you have me, since I’m not sure what story you’re referring to,” he answered softly, taking in the glory of her features—even angry, she was stunning.
The faintest smattering of freckles on her cheeks only grew more prominent with her slight blush.
“Stop.”
Henley frowned. “Dancing?” He glanced around them. “That would certainly look odd—and likely start talk. But if you insist.” He halted his footwork and stepped back slightly.
“No!” she answered, then lowered her tone. “No, keep dancing. I didn’t mean…” She gave a deep sigh.
He couldn’t help but chuckle at her exasperated expression.
“Communication isn’t your forte tonight. And I find that interesting.”
She didn’t hold back her glare. “I’m trying. You’re making it exceedingly difficult.”
“And here I thought I was being amenable and accommodating.” He hitched a shoulder. “You were telling me to stop … clearly, I misunderstood what to stop, so would you please clarify?”
“Doing what you were doing,” she answered after a moment.
“Dancing?” He blinked.
He was certain he actually did understand what she meant, but this was too much fun.
“No, not dancing. What is your obsession with ending the dance? I thought you requested this one?” she said, then plastered on a smile as if trying to appear composed.
“You’re not fooling anyone with that smile. Your eyes are angry,” he whispered.
“Because I am angry,” she bit out through clenched teeth.
“I’d like to know why, so I can make amends. I do not wish for your anger to be directed at me.”
“Then…” She stopped, collected her thoughts, then nodded. “Did you or did you not nearly come to blows with your brother today?” she asked with clarity.
“Ah, that. I dodged out of the way. Thank you for your concern, but Edwin was never a good aim. He was also…” He paused. “Never mind. I avoided the situation and left—thus why I arrived first.” He shrugged.
She blinked, then the most adorable wrinkle formed in her brow. “You didn’t try to hit him?”
“Why would I? Lady Anna, I’ve been clear from the beginning.
I’m quite sure my actions have spoken louder than my words.
And while I am more prone to take action rather than mince words, I do not engage in fisticuffs for anything but sport—and even that is rare.
A fact that is now a secret only you know, and I trust you to keep it.
Because of my actions last year and their consequences, I am remarkably cautious about what I do with my fists, and I can promise you this—” He leaned in, momentarily distracted by the scent of lavender clinging to the air around her.
“If I had come to blows with my brother, you’d certainly see the evidence of it.
” He met her eyes, darting between them before letting his gaze linger on her lips.
“I…” She paused, then licked her lips, her pink tongue darting out before she glanced away. Her shoulders rose and fell with a deep breath. “I never said you hit him. Just that you thought of it.”
He gave a soft laugh. “Lady Anna, there’s rarely a day that goes by that I don’t want to lay my brother out—but that only proves my self-control, since I haven’t.”
At this, she frowned once more. “So, now I have the discerning job of figuring out which one of you is telling the truth.” She shook her head. “I never expected a season to be so complicated.”
“Life is rarely simple, Lady Anna. But in that is the glory—the beauty.” He smiled. “You are not simple. You’re complex, layered, nuanced—a billion secrets waiting to be uncovered.” Henley glanced down, then back up to meet her eyes. “You’re complicated, but what a glorious puzzle.”
“I believe that was a compliment.” She narrowed her eyes.
“It was indeed. Far more charming than just saying you look lovely in green.” He intentionally kept eye contact, letting her know he already had her gown’s color memorized.
She met his gaze, then lifted her chin. “I’ll give you that. You’re correct—it is rather insulting when someone merely notices the color of your gown, as if that’s the most intelligent thing they can say.” She gave a delicate shudder. “However, I cannot figure you out, Lord Allendale.”
“Now it’s my turn to wonder if that’s a compliment,” he flirted.
She gave a half-hearted grin. “I wonder the same.”
“Perhaps I should make myself clearer?” he asked, allowing his gaze to flick to her lips.
“You wouldn’t dare,” she whispered.
He tipped his chin. “Would or wouldn’t I?” he asked, curious what she’d say.
“You wouldn’t … I’d be ruined.”
He gave a little shake of his head and leaned forward, whispering so softly he wondered if she’d actually hear him. “And here I thought I already had.”
Her eyes flashed fire. “I can’t believe you’d mention—”
“Yes, you can. But do not fret—what happened in dark halls isn’t meant to be repeated on ballroom floors,” he said. “And I wouldn’t tarnish your reputation in such a way. Surely, you know that.” He frowned, concerned that maybe she didn’t.
She seemed to consider him. “I do. But you constantly surprise me, so I can’t say it with conviction.”
“That is fair enough,” he said. “And now our dance is ending, and I must say—it was my favorite part of the whole evening, Lady Anna. But I have one request.”
Anna nodded once, her eyes wide with tentative curiosity.
“May I have the honor of seeing you tomorrow? Perhaps during your at-home hours?” he asked, knowing that such a request signaled serious intentions—a courtship already expected with his brother.
Cue another round of family drama. Pere was going to have a conniption. He just wasn’t sure if it would be for or against him.
“You understand what you’re saying?” she asked, narrowing her eyes slightly. “And even if I said no, would you stop?” She glanced heavenward.
Henley chuckled. “Yes, I’d respect you—but I’d find another way to pursue my … purpose.”
She gave a slow shake of her head. “Ah. Is that what we’re calling this?” she teased.
“We can give it whatever name you like,” he said, beginning to guide her toward her waiting parents as the last notes of the waltz faded.
“I find that I do not have as much control as I expected.”
“Isn’t that life?”
She regarded him. “Apparently so.” She tipped her head. “Lord Allendale, you are free to do whatever you wish.”
“That sounds like an invitation,” he said with a grin.
“It sounds like a statement. You can do with it what you’d like,” she answered, then walked the short distance to her parents without a final glance.
Dismissed—but not disheartened—Henley couldn’t resist the grin that tipped his lips as he walked toward the refreshment table. It wasn’t a yes, but it also wasn’t a refusal.
And that, he decided, was the win for the evening.