Helen Dickson - A Wayward Woman - Diamonds, Deception and the Debutante / Fugitive Countess

They danced in silence for a few moments, a silence in which Lance noted the strange lights dancing in her shining hair, and her slender shoulders gleaming with a soft, creamy lustre. ‘This is pleasant, is it not?’ he said at length, and there was a touch of irony in his mocking tone.

Feeling his arm tighten about her, Belle stiffened and for an incredulous moment she was speechless. Looking into his eyes, she forgot her intention not to engage in conversation with him. ‘I would be obliged if you would not hold me so tightly. I am only dancing with you because you dragged me on to the floor,’ she said with an effort, in the coldest and most condescending manner. ‘Do you usually snatch your partners away from their chaperons so ungallantly?’

He raised one thick, well-defined eyebrow, looking down at her. A faint half-smile played on his lips as if he knew exactly what was going on in her mind. ‘Only when I think they might refuse to dance with me—or need rescuing.’

‘I did not need rescuing, as you well know, Lord Bingham,’ she retorted, resenting his effect on her, the masculine assurance of his bearing. But she was conscious of an unwilling excitement, seeing him arrogantly mocking, and recklessly attractive. Here they were, together in the middle of the dance floor, in an atmosphere bristling with tension. ‘I was perfectly happy where I was.’

‘I don’t believe you. Besides, it’s not every day I get to dance with an American girl.’

Belle looked at him condescendingly and gritted out a menacing smile. ‘Lord Bingham, I am curious about your name. You see, I knew some Binghams in Charleston. Scurvy lot they were—thieves and cutthroats. Are you perhaps related, sir?’

The sweetness of her tone did not hide the sneer she intended. He met it with a flicker of amusement showing upon his lips. ‘It’s not impossible. I have distant family scattered all over the place. Who knows? Some of them may quite possibly have settled in the Carolinas. You dance divinely, by the way,’ he murmured, spinning her in an exaggerated whirl that made her catch her breath.

‘Will you please behave yourself?’ She spoke sharply, jerking away from him.

‘I do,’ he murmured, his warm breath fanning her cheek as he pulled her back to him. ‘We are partners. How else should I behave?’

‘Do not hold me so tightly. Be a gentleman—if that is not too difficult for you.’

‘A gentleman?’ he said, flashing his white teeth in a lazy grin, his gaze dipping lingeringly to her soft lips. ‘How can I do that? I am but an ignorant soldier, unschooled in the postures of the court, trained only to fire a gun and fight the enemy.’

‘Do not play the simpleton with me. It won’t work. Why have you singled me out from all the other ladies to dance?’

‘Is it so very strange for a man to want to dance with the most beautiful woman in the room? You are a very beautiful—enough to drive a man to madness.’

‘I really had no idea,’ she apologised sarcastically. ‘Perhaps you would like to prove your words.’

‘Prove? ‘

Calmly Belle met his gaze. How she yearned to erase that smirking grin from his lips. ‘Your madness!’ She sounded flippant and casual. ‘But you need not burden me. A few flecks of foam about your mouth would serve as well to prove the claim.’ She ignored the amusement that shone from his eyes and was sure her remark would have had him laughing out loud had they not been in the middle of a crowded dance floor. ‘Am I the first female you’ve ever met who didn’t want to dance with you?’

‘I confess to being somewhat spoiled by women who seemed to enjoy dancing with me. And you,’ he added, knocking back her momentary sense of triumph, ‘have been too long surrounded by besotted beaux who would willingly kiss the ground on which you walk, begging your permission to be your lord and master.’

‘Heaven forbid! I will never call any man my lord and nor will I allow a man to be my master. When I marry it will be a partnership. I will not be a dutiful little wife expected to behave like an obedient servant.’

Lance glanced down at her with an odd combination of humorous scepticism and certainty. ‘No I don’t suppose you will. You have quite a following of admirers,’ he commented, his eyes skimming over the bachelors who had been among her audience earlier. They were now eyeing him enviously and with keen attention. ‘I must say that I’m relieved you didn’t walk off the floor and leave me standing.’

‘Had I done so, I would have put my own reputation in jeopardy.’

His eyes, sweeping over her face and coming to rest on the sparkling gems around her throat, narrowed. ‘Even so. You should know that if I want something I take it, whatever the consequences.’ He lowered his head as he spun her round, his lips close to her ear. ‘I’ve never seduced a girl from Charleston before.’

Deeply shocked by his remark, Belle had the urge to kick his shin and leave him standing, regardless of the consequences, but instead she controlled her expression and met his look head on. ‘No? Then might I suggest you go there and find one. I am not so easily seduced,’ she retorted, too angry to be humiliated.

‘No?’

‘A very definite no. I wouldn’t let you touch me to save me from drowning.’

He looked down at her with mock disappointment. ‘I am mortified to hear that—but it’s early days. I always enjoy the chase. You will think differently when you get to know me.’

Belle looked at him with withering scorn. ‘Why, of all the conceited, arrogant—what a thoroughly selfish, insufferable individual you are, Lord Bingham. Do you make lewd remarks to all the women you dance with?’

‘And do you treat every gentleman who dances with you with such animosity—or only me?’

‘Lord Bingham, in the first place, you are no gentleman—which I have already pointed out. In the second, I don’t like you. And in the third, you should not be speaking to me at all.’

‘I shouldn’t?’ Her hostility didn’t offend him in the slightest. In fact, it added to his determination to get to know her better.

‘We have not been properly introduced.’

‘Do you mind?’

‘No—not really,’ she confessed honestly, hating the protocol that now ruled her every waking moment, tying her in knots lest she do or say the wrong thing.

‘Good. Neither do I. I would like it if you would call me Lance,’ he said, his gaze settling on her face, ‘since I intend for us to become better acquainted.’

‘Forgive me, but that would go against the basics my grandmother has tried to teach me since coming to this country. I have been taught to show proper respect for gentleman of any standing.’

Lance considered her at length and had to wonder why she refused to be so informal with him after he had invited her to be. ‘I must assume by your answer that you’re averse to the familiarity.’

‘It is what my grandmother would demand of me.’

‘Does that mean you insist on me addressing you in like manner?’

‘Whether you adhere to the strict code of gentlemanly conduct is entirely your affair.’

His eyebrow quirked with some amusement. ‘Come now, Belle—and in case you’re wondering, I know that is what you are called since I have made enquiries—’

‘I wasn’t,’ she cut in crossly.

‘—but your grandmother is stuck in the past,’ he continued. ‘Times are changing—at least I hope they are.’

Belle had never known her name could sound so very different, so warmly evocative when spoken by a man, or that she could feel as if she were dissolving inside when those soft, mellow tones caressed her senses.

‘Can you not agree that if we are to get to know each other on more intimate terms,’ Lance went on, lowering his head so that his mouth was very close to her ear, ‘it should allow us privileges above the usual stilted decorum of strangers?’