Rules for Reforming a Rake(17)
“Your grandmother and I were trying to hold an intelligent conversation... that is to say, we are usually capable of holding intelligent conversations... and often do... at least, your grandmother does... though we aren’t having one just now, are we?”
Oh, dear. She was rambling and he was grinning.
A deliciously soft grin.
And now her entire body was doing the same odd, tingling dance it had done the first day they’d met.
“Yes,” she continued, wishing he’d stop looking at her in that dangerous, heart-melting way. “That’s why you sought to interrupt. Is there something clever you wish to say?”
“Clever?” He let out a throaty chuckle. “That puts me under quite a bit of pressure. I merely wished to thank my grandmother for allowing me to ride with her to Lord Hornby’s ball. Thought I’d mention it before the evening wore on and I became distracted.”
“Quite understandable... er, yes.” Daisy began to fidget with her lace collar.
“Stop fussing,” Eloise whispered. “Pay no attention to that oaf, even if he is my grandson. You’re a delight and you look just fine.”
“For a snowball,” she whispered, feeling impossibly unsophisticated. Her gown needed more fabric at the bodice and less everywhere else. She felt miserable and uncomfortable, and Gabriel was still staring at her.
Finally he leaned forward, a mischievous grin on his lips. “Daisy—”
“Oh, dear! Please don’t tell me what you really think of me tonight. Let me keep a shred of dignity!”
He drew back and regarded her with something resembling astonished sincerity. “Forgive me. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
She shook her head. “You didn’t.”
“But you look scared.”
“Not of you, but of the mistakes I’m sure to make tonight. You see, this is my first ball, and my first chance to make my family proud. I want everything to be perfect, but I’m so... so... and my gown is just... just...”
“Beautiful and so are you,” he said with unexpected gentleness.
Her heart leapt into her throat.
He leaned forward and took her hands in his, imbuing her with his warmth. “Daisy, you do look lovely and that’s the plain truth.”
“Are you certain?” she finally eked out.
“Yes.” He graced her with a long, lazy smile.
Daisy felt her cheeks flame. Great balls of cheese! The man was dangerous.
Is this how he’d seduced Lady What’s-Her-Name? And why Lord What’s-His-Name had shot him? Be clever... be calm... do not acknowledge this rogue. Oh, she desperately wanted to think of a smart retort to put him in his place. He had no right to be nice to her.
Certainly not this nice.
He flashed her another lazy smile.
The man was too, too handsome. And confident. And shameless.
His devastating smile was now causing her blood to bubble and her toes to curl in that pleasant way they curled beside a warming fire on a snowy day. Yes, they were definitely curling inside her slippers. Which meant she’d trip and fall flat on her face the moment she descended from the carriage, staining her dress—which really wouldn’t be a bad thing—and probably scraping her elbows. That wouldn’t be good.
Actually, none of it would be good.
She’d be a laughingstock, and Gabriel’s brother would never take her as his wife. He’d seek out an Incomparable, a woman of elegance who spoke with intelligence and could bear him exquisite children. She, on the other hand, would be shipped off to the Farthingale country home in Coniston, left to dream of unrequited love while rambling among the fields of lavender and dense bracken, lamenting the only man she’d ever loved—Alexander, if she ever got to meet him—and how he might have loved her, if only she hadn’t fallen flat on her face at her first ball.
“... which is why I hoped you would accept. Will you, Daisy?”
“What?” She slipped her hands out of his warm grasp. “I’m sorry, were you speaking to me?” Lord, what did he just say? “I... could you please repeat the question? Actually, I’d need to hear everything you said before the question.”
He threw back his head and roared with laughter.
Eloise burst into laughter as well. “Oh, this is too, too funny!”
Daisy desperately gazed from one to the other. “What is? Please tell me.”
“No,” Gabriel said, still laughing. “You’ve unmanned me, left me mortally wounded and drowning in my own blood.”
“I have? That sounds awful. I’m sorry for my inattentiveness, but I’m sure you’ll find others at the ball more interested in what you have to say. No, no! I didn’t mean it quite that way. I’m certain you’re quite interesting when you’re...”