All The Ways To Ruin A Rogue(33)
Curiosity piqued, she continued to watch him. He slipped from view for a moment and she stepped to the side, craning her neck and gaining sight of him once again as he stopped before a woman pressed against the far wall. The girl shrank into the wallpaper as though she were part of the pattern.
He bowed before the lady. Aurelia assessed her—the pale brown hair pinned demurely atop her head, the length of her nondescript gown. The woman was no older than herself and vaguely familiar. Aurelia felt fairly certain they had shared the same wall before on at least one other occasion.
“Oh, he’s asking Miss Bell to dance.” Rosalie clapped her hands lightly, pleasure writ all over her face. “How kind of him. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Miss Bell take to the dance floor before.”
Miss Bell. She searched her memory, finally recalling her. Yes. Miss Samantha Bell. She was the late Duke of Faircloth’s stepdaughter. Miss Bell’s half sister, Lady Mariah, was the toast of the Season. Miss Bell was her constant companion and shadow.
Gazing across the ballroom at her, Aurelia noted the girl’s stunned expression as she gazed up at Camden. She was clearly not the one accustomed to handsome swains begging a dance. Unfair, she supposed. Miss Bell was not unattractive, but existing aside of her younger, prettier half sister? Who happened to be the daughter of a duke, whilst she was merely a gentleman’s daughter? It must not lend many opportunities for dance partners. Nor suitors, for that matter. Aurelia could relate to such a situation.
She angled her head, watching as he led the still startled-looking Miss Bell onto the dance floor. They watched in rapt fascination—as did many others. Camden seemed unaware of the stares his action was eliciting. Either that or he was indifferent. He looked straight ahead, unaffected as he led Miss Bell to the center of the ballroom floor.
“Isn’t that kind of him?” Rosalie nodded approvingly.
“Yes. Indeed.” It was kind of him. Which was not a word she had ever applied to him before, and yet here he was doing something generous and wholly unexpected.
Riveted, she continued watching as he swept Miss Bell in a graceful circle. Camden didn’t dance. Ever. Well, with her, yes, but that had only been to torment her. Dancing with Miss Bell was not driven out of his need to torment. Something had motivated him to walk across a crowded room and beg a dance from a girl who clung to the shadows. Could it simply be compassion? Had he seen her between the potted ferns and decided to take pity? He said something then that cracked Miss Bell’s timid shell and made her smile, and Aurelia suspected it was just that. He was being charitable.
“Good for Miss Bell,” Rosalie said. “I imagine this raises her in the estimation of most gentlemen in this room.” She plucked a glass from a passing tray and took a sip. “A sad state of affairs, but no less true.”
“There you are, wife.” Dec slid close beside Rosalie. “I’ve been looking for you.”
A besotted grin instantly curved her lips. A grin that turned downright dazed as Dec leaned in and whispered something in her ear. She pressed fingertips to her lips but that did little to stifle her giggle.
“Cousin.” Dec winked at her. “Would you mind if I stole my wife away for a dance?”
“Of course not. I might even let you have her for two dances.”
“So kind,” he murmured, lifting Rosalie’s drink from her hand and passing it to Aurelia. With a lingering kiss to his wife’s palm, he swept her onto the dance floor.
Aurelia found a place to deposit the glass and then meandered along the edge of the room, glancing around to confirm that no one seemed particularly attentive to her movements. With a final glance around, she slipped from the ballroom. Lifting her skirts, she hurried down the main corridor, smiling as she passed a pair of ladies.