Chapter Eight #2
She let out an exasperated huff. “Why?”
He let out a sigh of his own. “Because people are watching. They were watching you stand here with no dance partners aside from those your brother dragged your way whilst I have danced with nearly every eligible young woman here. Then they watched us watch each other, and now they are watching us argue. Yet again. I would prefer they watch us dance, as that is the least entertaining thing that we could do, and I would very much like for people to stop watching me.”
Her mouth dropped open. “I…” She let out a deep sigh that he felt in his bones. “My head is beginning to ache.”
He grinned again. “I do seem to have that effect on people. Though if you’d rather not dance with me, I believe your brother is towing another octogenarian in this direction.”
She blinked, startled, and glanced in the direction he indicated to see that her glowering brother had indeed coerced another ancient widower to share her company for a dance.
Hugo raised a brow in question. “So…” He held out his hand. “Shall we?”
She hesitated a few more moments, her gaze flicking around the room. He had been telling the truth. The entire ballroom seemed riveted on the scene playing out between them. “Oh, very well.” She put her hand in his, and he turned to lead her onto the dance floor.
He gave her fingers a slight squeeze and aimed his most charming smile at her. “Do try and look a little less murderous. We are trying to stop the attention. Not attract it.”
*
Adaline hadn’t been aware she looked murderous, though judging by the chaos roiling through her gut, she’d believe it.
Still, she was usually better at hiding her feelings than this.
There was something about this man that drove her to all distraction.
She hated that he amused her. Oh, he was aggravating, arrogant, self-centered, and self-serving. But he was amusing. Damn him.
She made a concerted effort to appear politely aloof.
Because despite what she’d said, she had been very much aware of the glances and the whispers.
It had been hard to miss when the only men who asked her to dance were the two Henry had obviously harried into an introduction.
Just when she had begun to think everyone had moved on to something else.
Apparently, they hadn’t forgotten after all.
Thankfully no one actually seemed to know any details of what had transpired between the Brelsfords and the Girards.
But enough had been hinted that everyone seemed to know the issue revolved around the marriageable children in each family.
And that was all it took. It didn’t matter what the issue might be.
The female member of the party would always be the most scrutinized, the most to blame.
In Society’s mind, if the families had had a falling out over their children, then it must stand to reason that Adaline was the cause.
Her suitors had dried up almost overnight.
Invitations still came for their family, thankfully.
But not because anyone was trying to be kind, she was certain.
It was more likely because they hoped other juicy tidbits would come of the families both being in attendance.
But any personal attention Adaline had previously enjoyed had virtually disappeared.
So, Lord Hugo’s invitation to dance was actually—not that she’d admit it to him—a good idea.
Perhaps it would serve to prime the pump, so to speak.
If one gentleman asked her to dance, it stood to reason that more might follow.
And hopefully, his outward show of interest might put some of the whispers to rest. After all, if they were sharing an amicable dance at the Turlington’s ball, there couldn’t be much truth to any feud rumors.
It was the amicable part she struggled with.
He led her onto the floor as the notes of a waltz began.
“A waltz?”
Of course, he would choose a waltz. As if there wasn’t enough gossip.
He grimaced slightly. “My apologies. I neglected to ascertain which dance was next before…”
“Embarking on this folly?” she asked with a smile.
He raised a brow. “Asking you to dance.”
“Hm,” she mumbled, taking his hand and steeling her spine as he placed his own on her back.
It belatedly occurred to her that by dancing together, they were considerably narrowing down the members of the family who were involved in their little brouhaha.
Though that was likely a moot point as she was the only unmarried daughter in her household and there were only two unmarried sons in the Brelsford’s, which already narrowed things down considerably.
Well, it was too late to back out now. That would only set more tongues wagging.
“Do try to smile, Miss Girard,” he murmured as he swept her around the floor. “You look as though you’d like to scratch out my eyes.”
My, my, wasn’t he perceptive?
She gave him the sweetest smile she could muster, hoping it appeared more natural than it felt.
“Well, I have spent the last several weeks dreaming of just such an occasion. I confess it is altogether disconcerting to now be taking a turn on the dance floor with you instead of indulging in something far more vicious.”
His eyes widened, though his lips twitched with amusement rather than anger. “That seems a bit of an overreaction.”
“Is it?” She blinked innocently. “It seemed rather understated to me.”
He chuckled, his grip on her tightening slightly as they spun, her skirts swishing gently behind her.
She resisted the urge to squirm beneath his hold, and resisted even more, examining the reason for her discomposure.
For despite her expectation that she’d find his touch repugnant, she instead found it quite…
comfortable. Warm. Comforting even, which baffled her to distraction.
This man had turned her life on end, cruelly and carelessly so.
And yet, with him holding her, she felt more shielded and protected from the unkind stares of their peers than when she stood surrounded by proven allies.
More than she had since the entire fiasco had occurred.
There was something so wrong about how right it felt to be held by him.
The realization made her stiffen in his arms, her smile freezing until her face felt like stone.
“Miss Girard?” he asked. “Is there ought amiss?”
“Aside from the fact that I am dancing with the man who made me a laughingstock in front of the whole of London? No. Why do you ask?”
Hugo’s jaw visibly clenched. “Look around, Miss Girard. No one is laughing. No one even knows the truth of what occurred.”
“No. Instead, they speculate. Embellish. Whisper. I’m not sure which is worse.”
He let out a tired sigh. “On that, at least, we can agree.” He gave her a faint smile.
“I have apologized for my role in that unfortunate incident more times than I can count, Miss Girard. I realize it may never be enough for you to forgive me, but you shall just have to try as there is little else I can do to rectify the matter short of marrying you myself. And that is a solution I am sure you find as horrifying as I do.”
She blanched, unable to hide the reaction.
He would not be her first choice of husband, no.
And she wouldn’t have expected that she would be his first choice either, especially considering their interactions to date.
But that didn’t stop the sharp bolt of pain from stabbing through her all the same.
Most of the men in London had made it abundantly clear they had no interest in her.
But they’d had the decency not to say so to her face.
And certainly none had elaborated so much as to call the prospect horrifying.
“Well. Isn’t that just what every woman wishes to hear? True or not, you could have at least had the decency not to say so.” She bit off her words before the embarrassment and anger that choked her became too apparent in her wavering voice. She would never let him know how much his admission hurt.
Even more so when she realized she hadn’t hidden it from him nearly as well as she’d hoped.
He gazed down at her with genuine surprise. “I…apologize if I was perhaps too vehement. Sincerely. I assumed, based on your obvious abhorrence of my presence, that you shared my sentiments. I certainly did not intend any insult. If you—”
“Rest assured, Lord Hugo, I am just as horrified to be forced into your company as you have made clear you are to be in mine. Let us hope your sacrifice has not gone in vain and this interminable dance has done at least a measure of good in quieting the wagging tongues.”
His jaw popped again, and his hand tightened almost imperceptibly on her back.
“I am afraid any good it might have done is being promptly undone by the sour expression on your face. Really, has no one ever taught you to hide your thoughts better? Every person in here can read you like an open book.”
She gave up all pretense of civility and glared at him. “Do you sit around at night thinking of ways to insult me? Or is it just a natural talent?”
He did have the grace to look chagrined, though that did not make her feel any better.
“Again, I meant no insult—”
“You apparently never do. And no, to answer your question. My apologies that I am not as adept at deceit as you.”
“It is not deceit,” he ground out, doing his best to look as though they were enjoying themselves. Though all he was achieving was a sort of pained smile that actually brought her some comfort to see. At least she wasn’t the only one suffering.
“It is a matter of privacy,” he continued. “Something which you appear to neither care for nor understand.”
“So you also find my manners, and intelligence, lacking. I’ll add that to the list.”
He let out a sigh. “That is not what I said.”
“It most assuredly was.”
He gave her a strained grin. “People are beginning to stare, Miss Girard.”
“People have been staring, Lord Hugo.”
“Exactly my point, Miss Girard. This dance was supposed to alleviate the issue. Not exacerbate it.”
Adaline knew he was right, though it made her hate him all the more.
Even more so because she knew she was being purposely obstinate.
He really wasn’t saying anything that didn’t make sense.
She even agreed with him for the most part.
There was just something about him that seemed to draw out the worst in her.
Or at least the competitive nature in her…
She pasted a sickly-sweet smile on her lips. “Is this better?” she asked through gritted teeth.
He stared at her, eyes wide with bemusement—or perhaps horror. It was difficult to tell. “Not in the slightest.”
“I’m afraid that’s the best I can do in current company.”
“Are you this argumentative with everyone?”
She actually stopped to think about it for a moment. Truth be told, she did enjoy a good argument now and then. But… “As a general rule, no.”
He snorted. “So it is only me, then?”
This time she gave him a true smile. “You are a source of much inspiration, I’ll admit.”
“Ah, there. That smile right there,” he said, his voice laced with triumph. “You are capable of a genuine smile.”
“Of course I am. In the right circumstances.”
“Ah. And I take it those circumstances are not any that involve me.”
“That isn’t strictly true. I’ve genuinely smiled several times whilst in your presence.”
“Hmm, yes. Mostly when you’re insulting me.”
She pursed her lips. “That isn’t the only time.”
“Oh? So you will be smiling again?”
“Of course. Just as soon as the music is ended.”
He kept his own smile in place, but when he spoke it was through gritted teeth. “You must be the most infuriating, frustrating, cantankerous nuisance I have ever met.”
This time she did beam a genuine smile at him. “That is perhaps the nicest thing you have ever said about me. Thank you.”
He stopped, dumbstruck, in the middle of the dance floor as he stared down at her. Luckily, the music ended half a beat later, so she wasn’t forced to drag him about like a rag doll. Had she broken him?
“Are you incapable of normal human interaction, Miss Girard?”
Adaline froze. Then dropped her hands, taking a step back from him before bobbing a slight curtsy.
“Wait,” he said. “I didn’t mean—”
“I shall see myself back to my brother. Have a pleasant evening, Lord Hugo. I do hope I shan’t see you again.”
She turned and left before he could respond. And before he could see the emotion that tightened her throat and made her vision swim.
Oh, she truly had been delighted that he found her so aggravating. A man who had shown such disdain for her presence and her very being did not deserve to experience the sweet side of her. Nor any part of her true self. But that didn’t mean his words hadn’t also hurt.
Did anyone truly enjoy being told their very existence was a blight on society?
Granted, his words hadn’t been quite so severe.
But the implication was there. The man seemed incapable of doing anything but insulting her at every turn.
Though to be fair to him, she didn’t think he intended to be malicious.
He apparently just couldn’t help it. And so, she would do naught but treat him in kind.
And save her tears for when she was alone in her room, with no one to see them.