He arched a brow. "You don't have any choice."
"For a man who is intensely eager to have me married off, you're doing quite a good job of scaring away my suitors."
"I didn't scare Billington away. Trust me, he'll show up on your doorstep tomorrow morning, flowers in one hand, chocolates in the other."
Henry smiled dreamily, mostly just to irritate him. When they reached the dance floor, however, she noticed that the orchestra had begun a waltz. It was still a relatively new dance, and debutantes were not allowed to waltz without the approval of society's leading matrons. She ground to a stubborn halt. "I can't," she said. "I don't have permission."
"Caroline took care of it," he said brusquely.
"Are you certain?"
"If you do not start dancing with me in one second, I will yank you forcibly into my arms, creating such a scene that—"
Henry put her hand on his shoulder with alacrity. "I don't understand you, Dunford," she said as he began to twirl her across the floor.
"Don't you?" he said darkly.
Her eyes flew to his. What did that mean? "No," she said with quiet dignity. "I don't."
He tightened his hold on her waist, unable to resist the temptation of her soft body under his hand. Hell, he didn't even understand himself these days.
"Why is everyone staring at us?" Henry whispered.
"Because, my dear, you are the latest craze. This season's Incomparable. Surely you realize that."
His tone and expression made her flush angrily. "You might try to be a little happy for me. I thought the purpose of this trip was to give me some social polish. Now that I've got it, you can't stand the sight of me."
"That," he said, "is about as far from the truth as anything I've heard."
"Then why..." Her words trailed off. She didn't know how to ask what was in her heart.
Dunford could feel the conversation veering toward dangerous waters and sought to bail out quickly. "Billington," he said curtly, "is reputed to be quite a catch."
"Almost as good as you?" she sneered.
"Better, I imagine. But I would advise you to watch your step around him. He's not some young dandy you can wrap around your finger."
"That is precisely why I like him so much."
His hand tightened yet again around her waist. "If you tease him, you may find yourself getting what you ask for."
Her silvery eyes turned hard. "I was not teasing him, and you know it."
He shrugged disdainfully. "People are already talking."
"They are not! I know they aren't. Belle would have said something to me."
"When would she have had the chance? Before or after you teased him into trying to get you on a first-name basis?"
"You're horrid, Dunford. I don't know what has happened to you, but I don't like you very much anymore."
Funny, he didn't like himself much, either. And he liked himself even less when he said, "I saw the way you looked at him, Henry. Having been the recipient of that expression myself, I know exactly what it meant. He thinks you want him, and not just as a matrimonial prize."
"You bastard," she hissed, trying to pull away from him.
His grip turned to steel. "Don't even think about leaving me in the middle of the dance floor."
"I'd leave you in hell if I could."
"I'm sure you would," he said coolly, "and I have no doubt I'll meet the devil in time. But as long as I'm here on this earth, you will dance with me, and you will do so with a smile on your face."
"Smiling," she said hotly, "is not part of the deal."
"And what deal would that be, dear Hen?"
She narrowed her eyes. "One of these days, Dunford, you're going to have to decide whether you like me or you don't, because quite honestly, I cannot be expected to anticipate your moods. One moment you're quite the nicest man I know, and the next you're the devil himself.".
" 'Nice' is such a bland word."
"I wouldn't trouble myself over it if I were you, because that is not the adjective I would use to describe you right now."
"I assure you, I was not having palpitations over it."
"Tell me, Dunford, what is it that makes you so horrid every now and then? Earlier this evening you were so lovely." Her eyes grew wistful. "So kind to assure me I looked all right."
He thought wryly that she looked far better than 'all right.' And that was at the root of the problem.
"You made me feel like a princess, an angel. And now..."
"And now what?" he asked in a low voice.
She looked him straight in the eye. "Now you're trying to make me feel like a whore."
Dunford felt as if he'd been punched, but he welcomed the pain. He deserved no less. "That, Hen," he finally said, "is the agony of unfulfilled desire."
She missed a step. "Whaaaat?"
"You heard me. You cannot have failed to realize I want you."
She blushed and swallowed nervously, wondering if it were at all possible that the other five hundred partygoers did not notice her distress. "There is a difference between wanting and loving, my lord, and I will not accept one without the other."
"As you wish." The music ended, and Dunford executed a smart bow.
Before Henry had a chance to react, he disappeared into the crowd. Guided by instinct, she made her way to the perimeter of the ballroom, intending to find a washroom where she might have a few moments of privacy to regain her composure. She was waylaid, however, by Belle, who said that there were a few people she wanted Henry to meet.