For Arabella Neville was now well and truly beyond his reach. Now and forever.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Once he was sure Arabella was safely in the carriage and wrapped up well against the cold, he asked, "Are you any good at dancing?"
"I'm a bit out of practice. I've not gone to many balls since my father passed away."
"Trust me, I shall set you straight. I enjoy the quadrille. Word of warning. We usually substitute the moulinet for the chaîne desdames in our sets during the final figure."
"I'll keep that in mind."
"You shall have to dance the first waltz and quadrille with me, of course. Then we shall see. If I am curt with anyone, you will know it is because they are a rake and thus unsuitable and not to be entertained with more than the barest courtesy."
"I see."
He looked her over again appraisingly once more, though there was no passion in his gaze now that she could see. He shook his head. "I feel as though I am bringing a tender little lamb into a pack of ravening wolves."
"I am not so naïve as you suppose."
"You could have fooled me," he muttered.
Her eyes flashed with indignant fire. "We said we were going to forget all about that-"
"Between us, yes. But as I have said, there are hundreds of men far less scrupulous than myself."
"Then I need have no fear, for I know you will not let me come to any harm."
He searched her face for any sign of sarcasm, but found none.
His expression gentled for a moment. In the white, black and silver gown she was truly a vision. "At the risk of sounding as if I'm breaking our pact already, Arabella, you look, well, you look divine. I shall have to fend off all the swains tonight with a cane."
She smiled at him slightly. "Surely not all. I thought the whole purpose of this was to introduce me around the Town, further my circle of acquaintance, not scare them all off because you are so Puritanical."
"Er, yes, quite, I meant the rakes," he said as he helped her settle more comfortably in the carriage under the travelling rugs.
The vehicle seemed like an old friend to her after all of the hours she had spent in it during the great storm. Blake did not sit next to her this time, but ensured both footwarmers were nearest to her.
He evidently recalled how they had met as well, for once they had nestled into their seats he said in a low tone, "I trust you did not suffer any lasting ill effects from your ordeal, Miss Neville. I mean, you look well. But your ribs-"
"Are healing nicely, thank you. Apart from a head cold for a couple of days over Christmas, I have been well."
"Glad to hear it."
"What of John?" she asked.
"Still resting at The Bishop's Mitre at Rede Village, but he should be fit to travel soon. James and Mr. Greengage too are on the road to recovery."
"Thanks to you."
"You as well, Belle. Pardon me. Miss Neville."
"But you stopped for us. Not to mention your presence of mind in coping with the crisis."
He bowed at the praise but remained silent.
"And you?" she asked after a time. "How are you, Dr. Sanderson?"
"I have been well," he replied shortly.
"You look a bit tired to me. It must have been a long journey down from Bath. What of your friends you went to visit?"
"My friend Michael is as well as can be expected. The war, you know. But he sends his best, and is very much looking forward to meeting you." As soon as he said the words he could have kicked himself.
Her long lashes flew upwards. "Me? Why, how on earth could he know anything about me?"
"You are my ward, you know. He finds it quite amusing to think of me with a cute little moppet in short skirts. He shall be even more amused when he sees you. And he knows Peter from university and the army, though your brother is somewhat younger than us."
"So glad to be the object of such mirth for you and your friends," she said coolly.
He frowned. "Anything but mirth by the time this night is over, I assure you."
She raised her brows, and would have asked him what he meant.
But they were already outside Lady Pemberton's, and several people, including her nephew Matthew Dane, his best friend Randall Avenel, Michael's youngest brother, and their fast set of friends, were on the stoop ahead of them.
"I say, whatever you do, don't mention Michael to anyone," he said quickly.
"No, not at all. I shall treat all of our private conversations as just that," she replied, wondering why he seemed so unaccountably nervous.