Dawn In My Heart. Ruth Axtell Morren

      “Since the young lady and I are already promised to each other, I would like to ask your permission to dance the waltz with her.”

      Her mouth formed another O as she blinked at him. “Oh, dear Lord Skylar, we do so frown on the waltz. There’s been a mania for it ever since the Czar danced it here earlier this month. We could hardly refuse him permission. But we don’t encourage it. I know it is danced all over the Continent, and at private dances in town, but we have always tried to maintain a certain standard of propriety at Almack’s. We’ve only just introduced the quadrille this season. We are the upholders of the highest decorum for the young ladies who are presented every season, you understand.”

      “I understand,” he interjected smoothly when it was apparent she would continue in this vein. He smiled his most charming smile. “But seeing how my betrothal to Lady Gillian Edwards will shortly be announced, I can see no harm in indulging us in this one dance.”

      “Lady Gillian?” Her eyes grew wide at this piece of information.

      “Yes, though I know you can be trusted to be discreet about the betrothal until it is officially announced.”

      “Oh, of course. You can trust absolutely to my silence.”

      Knowing it would be all over town before another day had passed, he pressed his advantage. “So, my lady, will you favor me with this request?”

      She pursed her lips and made a few sounds of debating with herself. Finally she drew herself up. “Very well, I suppose a waltz with Lady Gillian wouldn’t be improper under these circumstances. But only one, mind you. There will be talk. I must go and explain to the other patronesses why I have given you my leave.” She gave him a conspiratorial smile. “I shall even request that the orchestra play a waltz after this set.”

      He bowed.

      By this time, Lady Gillian was standing along the wall, surrounded by a gaggle of overly refined young dandies, from what Sky could judge. He ambled over, Delaney at his side congratulating him on his smooth handling of Lady Jersey.

      When Sky arrived behind her flock of admirers, he stood a good half-head above them, so he could observe Lady Gillian easily.

      “Oh, Pinky, you mustn’t be so naughty. You know he can’t help who his tailor is,” she remonstrated with the young man nearest her. The others chuckled.

      One by one they fell silent as they noticed Sky’s presence. He didn’t look at any of them but approached Lady Gillian as a path opened up in front of him. He bowed over her hand. “My lady, would you honor me with this next waltz?”

      Her mouth dropped open at his request before she snapped it shut. She removed her gloved hand from his in what struck him as a studied gesture. “I must decline as I have not as yet been given the nod from the patronesses to dance the waltz.”

      “But I have.” Fixing his eye on the so-called Pinky, an effete-looking young man with too much pomade on his hair, Sky quelled him with a mere look as he opened his mouth to speak. Then he turned his attention back to Lady Gillian. With a deliberately imperious gesture, Sky held out his arm as the first strains of the waltz began. Silently she placed her gloved arm in his.

      The two walked onto the dance floor, where Tertius took her in his arms and began to lead.

      “However did you get permission from one of the patronesses? They are notoriously strict, you know.”

      The two glided smoothly over the dance floor. “I told Lady Jersey as you and I were to be leg-shackled, I could see nothing objectionable to a waltz. I think the value of the gossip I gave her overrode any hesitation on her part.”

      Although he had said this with a perfectly straight face, he could see the smile tugging at her mouth at this last piece of information. She had beautiful lips, he conceded, full and rosy. “Haven’t you obtained the nod from them as yet?” he asked.

      “Goodness, no. They dislike me. I think they consider me too forward.”

      “Are you?”

      She flushed and turned her face away from him. “They are a bunch of old ladies who wield absolute power in their little kingdom.” She shrugged. “They are entirely too full of their own importance. I have danced the waltz on many occasions at private balls.”

      “You dance well.”

      “Thank you, my lord.” Gillian gave him a slight inclination of her head, to show the compliment pleased her. Her dislike lessened a fraction. She had been impressed by the way he had silenced all those silly young boys surrounding her. And he did dance smoothly. He was too austere for her taste, however. During the entire dance, she felt as if she were being observed through a quizzing glass.

      As the music played, she wondered idly what it would take to get such a man to fall in love with her. She hadn’t a clue, she admitted, observing his dark features. His hair and eyes were nearly black, the hair a trifle long, raked back against a high forehead, his skin unfashionably dark.

      With no conscious thought, she compared him to another dark-haired gentleman she’d known. The likeness ended there. The two were nothing alike, either physically or in their character.

      She pushed aside the memory and focused on her dance partner. She had never known a man so completely insensitive to her charms. Since her come-out, she was accustomed to receiving praise, if not always in speeches, then certainly in the flattering looks directed her way. Young gentlemen flocked around her to pay her court. They laughed at her sallies and wrote odes to her.

      She couldn’t imagine this man behaving in such a manner. His less-than-complimentary assessment of her still rankled. As the dance continued, the idea of contriving an infatuation on his part continued to grow. How would she go about it?

      At that second his gaze met hers. She couldn’t read anything in it but indifference, before it strayed beyond her. Once again, she felt her annoyance grow. He could at least have given her a smile.

      In half a year, she would be wed to this stranger.

      She shuddered inwardly as the full implications gripped her.

      She blinked, erasing the image that filled her mind, and set her mind to thinking of the beautiful trousseau she would have and the new measure of independence that marriage would give her. No longer would Templeton dog her every footstep or frown in disapproval at the least action.

      Life as the Countess of Skylar was a step upward, she reminded herself. She wouldn’t think about the other aspects of it. Or about the colossal obstacle she’d have to surmount in order to arrive there.

      As soon as the dance ended, Lord Skylar took her back to her companions. Miffed that he hadn’t even expressed the desire to dance another set with her, she removed her hand from his as he bowed.

      “I shall come by and collect you tomorrow afternoon for a drive around the park. Is three o’clock satisfactory?”

      Did he think her acquiescence was to be taken for granted just because their two families had agreed on their betrothal? Did it imply she was not to be won? “I must check my engagement book,” she told him haughtily.

      His eyes narrowed. “As I am your intended, I believe I take precedence over any other engagements. I suggest you clear your calendar for my invitations.”

      She cocked an eyebrow. “Do you?”

      “If you prefer we not see each other until our wedding day and bed a stranger that night, be so good as to inform me. I can find suitable occupation and companionship until then, I assure you.”

      “You are insulting!” she said through stiff lips.

      He gave her a thin smile. “But nevertheless honest. Until tomorrow afternoon then?”

      Leaving her no chance to reply, he turned and left.

      Chapter Two

      L ord Delaney approached Tertius