by Laura Martin
‘I’m sure that’s not necessary,’ Louisa said before Robert could reply.
Dance with Louisa—could there be a more exquisite torture? Her body pressed against his, so close he’d be able to smell her unique scent, feel the beat of her heart, but be unable to do anything under the watchful eyes of society.
‘It’s necessary,’ Robert and Mrs Knapwell said in unison.
‘If he doesn’t, all the guests will be asking why.’
‘You’ll dance with me first and last,’ Robert said in a tone that brooked no argument. ‘The rest of the time you’ll be free to choose whomever you like to dance with.’
‘Good.’
‘Good,’ Robert repeated.
They lapsed into silence. The carriage slowed as it emerged on to a larger street and met with the queue of other carriages heading for the ball.
Robert glanced down and saw Louisa was wringing her hands together. She was nervous. He wanted to reach out and still her fingers, let her know everything was going to be all right. She would be a success, Mrs Knapwell was right. She was beautiful and interesting and men would be fools not to fall at her feet.
Louisa noticed him watching her and glanced down at her hands. Immediately she stopped moving them, straightened her back and resolutely looked out the window.
‘You must keep well hydrated tonight, my dear,’ Mrs Knapwell said as they crawled closer to their destination. ‘It is thirsty work talking and dancing your way through a ball.’
Louisa nodded obediently.
‘And no alcohol,’ Robert growled.
She didn’t respond.
‘Lord Fleetwood is right. It will be a long night for you and you don’t want a sore head stopping you from talking to as many people as possible.’
Louisa smiled at Mrs Knapwell. Robert wished she would smile at him.
‘Don’t talk to strange men,’ Robert commanded.
‘Surely that is the whole point of this evening,’ Louisa said sweetly, finally turning to face him.
Robert was pleased to get some sort of reaction from her at last.
‘You wish for me to get married. If I’m not mistaken, that requires a gentleman for me to marry. At the moment I do not know any gentlemen so they will all be strangers. So, if I don’t talk to any strangers I won’t talk to anyone and I won’t ever get married.’
Robert grunted.
‘Unless you wish to turn this carriage round and take me back home, I suggest you allow me to talk to strange men tonight.’
He was sorely tempted. Louisa looked beautiful even when she was angry. The colour flooded to her cheeks and her eyes flashed with passion. Robert nearly reached up to bang on the roof and command they be taken back home. Home where it was just he and Louisa and a long, long night together.
Robert restrained himself. He’d been over this time and time again. Ultimately he wanted Louisa to be happy. He knew he couldn’t make her happy, so he had to allow someone else the chance.
‘You’re not going to be standing over me all night, are you?’ Louisa asked suspiciously.
‘Why?’
‘You’ll scare everyone off. You glower a lot.’
‘If they’re scared by a bit of a frown, they’re not exactly prime specimens of men, are they? You deserve better than that.’
‘Surely it’s up to me to decide what I deserve.’
‘You sell yourself short,’ Robert said bluntly.
‘I’m not the only one,’ Louisa murmured so quietly he only just heard her. Then she turned her back to him and stared out the window.
‘I’m sure Lord Fleetwood will find the right balance between protective guardian and enjoying the ball. You are here to enjoy yourself as well, remember,’ Mrs Knapwell said, turning to him.
Robert stopped himself from scoffing. Attending a ball to watch Louisa get pawed at by unworthy pups was not his idea of a good night out.
‘You might even start to think of marriage yourself one day soon.’
Louisa laughed, but there was no humour in the sound.
‘I think that’s unlikely, Mrs Knapwell. Lord Fleetwood has sworn off women.’
Mrs Knapwell looked shocked. ‘Surely not completely, Lord Fleetwood.’
Robert grimaced. He didn’t want to have to explain himself.
Louisa and Mrs Knapwell looked at him expectantly.
‘Completely,’ he confirmed eventually. ‘I will never marry.’
Instead of triumph he saw desolation in Louisa’s eyes. Again he wanted to reach out to her, pull her body close to him. He hated that he was the one hurting her, but he couldn’t do anything about it.
‘Oh, look, how pretty,’ Mrs Crawshaw said, oblivious to the conversation and the tension inside the carriage. ‘I do love lanterns.’
They had pulled to a stop outside the Impington town house and there were signs of the festivities everywhere. Lanterns decorated the staircase leading up to the front door and footmen lined the street, ready to assist the guests from their carriages and welcome them to the ball.
‘Last chance to back out,’ Louisa whispered as Robert took her hand to help her down from the carriage.
‘I don’t back out of anything,’ Robert said.
Chapter Twenty
They entered the crush. Despite her coolness in the carriage Louisa was secretly glad to have Robert with them. She still hated him for how he’d treated her, giving her hope, then snatching it away, but nevertheless there was something about his presence that calmed her and gave her confidence.
Louisa made sure her touch on Robert’s arm was feather-light. She didn’t want him to realise how nervous she was. She needed to seem aloof, unaffected. Only by maintaining an icy demeanour did she stand a chance of getting through the evening without breaking down in tears and telling anyone who would listen that she loved Robert Fleetwood, but he did not love her in return.
‘The dancing will start in about ten minutes,’ Mrs Knapwell explained, leaning in close so Louisa could hear her. ‘Lord Fleetwood will take the first dance, then after that, gentlemen will ask you to dance with them.’
Louisa nodded. They’d been through this so many times before, but still she worried she was about to do something monstrously wrong and offend the entire ton on her first real outing.
‘You have your dance card?’ Mrs Knapwell asked.
Louisa held up her wrist obediently where the card was tied on with a green ribbon.
Robert leant over and carefully untied the card. Louisa had to stop herself from shivering as his fingers met her skin. Even the slightest touch made her feel wanton.
After a couple of seconds his touch was gone. Carefully he pencilled his name into the spaces for the first and last dance.
‘You don’t have to dance with Miss Turnhill twice, Lord Fleetwood,’ Mrs Knapwell said quietly. ‘I’ve no doubt Miss Turnhill will have gentlemen clamouring to fill her dance card.’
Robert continued to fill his name in the last slot. Unexpectedly Louisa felt a small bubble of pleasure at the idea that he wanted to dance with her. She told herself he was merely doing his duty, but deep down she hoped it was something more.
‘Fleetwood, Miss Turnhill, Mrs Knapwell.’ Dunton’s familiar voice cut through the crowd as he made his way towards them. ‘Good to see you.’ He gave Robert a strange look. ‘Thought you weren’t coming tonight.’
‘I changed my mind.’
‘Clearly.’ Dunton turned his attention to Louisa. ‘Miss Turnhill, I rushed all the way over here before any other gentlemen could be introduced. Will you do me the honour of granting me a dance?’
Louisa smiled. ‘Of course. It would be my pleasure.’
She handed her card to Dunton and watched as he picked a slot in the middle of the evening.
She was pleased there would be at least one familiar face.
‘You look quite ravishing tonight, Miss Turnhill,’ Dunton said. ‘But I’m sure you’ve been told that hundreds of times already.’
‘Thank you, a girl can never receive too many compliments.’
‘After tonight you might disagree. You’re turning heads already.’
Louisa blushed. She knew he was just being kind, but she surreptitiously glanced around the room.
‘Oh, look, there’s Lord Frinton,’ Mrs Knapwell said.
All heads turned in the direction she was looking in. A good-looking young man was making his way over to their group.
‘Lord Frinton’s sister is a patroness of the orphanage,’ Mrs Knapwell told Louisa quietly. ‘Lord Frinton has been a most generous benefactor.’
‘Mrs Knapwell.’ Lord Frinton bowed over her hand before murmuring greetings to the rest of the group.
‘This is Miss Turnhill,’ Mrs Knapwell said with a smile.
‘It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Turnhill. Might I say you’ve caused a bit of a stir.’
Lord Frinton took her hand and placed a feather-light kiss on her knuckles.
From the corner of her eye Louisa could see Robert glowering at Lord Frinton.
‘Everyone was dying to meet Lord Fleetwood’s ward even before they caught a glimpse of you. Now I fear you’ll be besieged with eager young gentlemen and jealous young ladies.’
‘You’re flattering me, Lord Frinton,’ Louisa said, ‘and that’s not good for a lady’s modesty.’
Robert stepped forward as if to plant himself between the pair, but Louisa turned slightly, excluding him from the conversation. She didn’t understand him. One minute he was telling her in no uncertain terms that he would never marry, that there was no future for them, but insisting she marry some man she did not love. The next he was glowering at any man who dared to come close, trying to scare them off before they even had the chance to get to know her.
He was infuriating. Well, if Robert wanted her to find a husband that was what she would do. Or at the very least she would show him she could do just that if she wanted to. Louisa was still not convinced she wanted to spend her life relying on anyone else, but for now she was happy to go along with everyone’s expectations and enjoy the balls and parties.
‘Can I claim a dance?’ Lord Frinton asked. From behind her Louisa could sense Robert about to step forward and intervene. She wondered if he would actually say no. That would be terribly rude, and although Robert wasn’t the kind of man who put much stock in polite conversation she didn’t think he would normally go out of his way to offend someone.
‘That would be lovely,’ Louisa said hurriedly before Robert could say anything.
Lord Frinton pencilled in his name on her card.
‘I hear the band striking up for the first dance,’ Robert said, stepping in between Louisa and Lord Frinton. ‘Shall we?’ He offered his arm to Louisa and after a few long seconds Louisa placed her hand on his jacket and allowed him to lead her off.
She strained her ears. She couldn’t hear anything from the band and she suspected it would be a few minutes before they started to play.
‘That was rude,’ Louisa muttered.
Robert said nothing.
‘You’re going to have to remember your manners,’ she tried again. ‘You’ll never get me married off if you scare all the eligible young gentlemen away.’
‘Frinton’s not suitable,’ was all Robert said in response.
‘Why?’
Robert took a few seconds to answer and Louisa suspected he was racking his brain for any small reason the charming man wasn’t suitable.
‘He’s a womaniser,’ Robert said eventually. ‘He wouldn’t be faithful.’
‘And you’re telling me most men don’t have mistresses? I’m not naive. I know I can’t expect my future husband to be faithful.’
Louisa expected exactly that, but she wasn’t about to let on to Robert. If she ever did get married, it would be for love and it would have to be a mutual all-encompassing love like her parents had shared. Her husband wouldn’t want to be unfaithful to her.
‘Your husband will be faithful,’ Robert growled.
‘Don’t try and pretend you haven’t had a mistress before,’ Louisa said, knowing she was baiting him, but unable to stop herself.
Robert remained silent.
‘So why is it one rule for Lord Frinton and another for you?’
Still no response.
‘You can’t tell me a man is unsuitable if he has a character flaw all men share.’
‘Lord Frinton is not suitable,’ Robert said, his voice low and dangerous. Louisa felt a thrum of anticipation slice through her body as Robert turned to face her, his attention entirely focused on her. ‘If I were married to you, I would be faithful. I would never even look at another woman. Any man who would rather spend time with his mistress than with you is a fool.’
Louisa looked back at him with an open mouth. She didn’t know what to say. Robert had spoken so passionately and so forcefully that she knew he’d spoken from the heart. If they were married, he’d be faithful to her to the very end.
She felt the tears start to build in her eyes and swallowed a few times in quick succession, adamant she wouldn’t make a fool of herself in the middle of her first ball by sobbing like a little girl.
Robert held her gaze for a long minute, then eventually looked away.
‘Let’s dance,’ he said gruffly.
The band had struck up the introduction to the first dance and people were slowly filing on to the dance floor. Louisa allowed Robert to lead her forward, walking as if she were in a trance. She didn’t understand this man who looked at her as though he wanted to ravish her, but coolly told her she was to marry somebody else. Then to tell her he would be faithful to the last if they were married! Louisa felt the anger building inside her, replacing the sadness. It wasn’t fair. He shouldn’t treat her like this. She never knew where she stood. All she wanted was for him to tell her once and for all how he felt, not say one thing, then contradict his words with every action.
Louisa felt Robert slip his arms around her and she tried to hold on to her anger. It was so hard to be angry when she was in his arms, everything felt right with the world. Silently he took her hand in his and started to guide her through the steps.
Louisa had been practising her dance steps all week, knowing she was going to have to dance at a ball where everyone else had been dancing for years. But with Robert’s hand in the small of her back Louisa didn’t even have to think of the steps. He guided her through them effortlessly and she felt as though she were floating rather than dancing.
As her body brushed against his she felt the now-familiar stirrings of desire deep inside. She wanted this man. Even though he had rejected her, even though he had told her quite categorically she should marry someone else, she wanted this man.
Louisa knew the attraction was a physical response, an age-old instinct implanted in the human species to ensure they did not go extinct. She struggled to overcome it, knowing deep down that Robert would never be hers, not in the way she wanted it.
Robert spun her round and Louisa realised their dance was nearly at an end. Part of her wanted the band to continue playing so their dance could last for ever, but the other part just wanted it to be over. She needed to get away from Robert and his smouldering eyes. Every time she looked at him she felt drawn towards him.
As the dance finished and Robert bowed stiffly in front of her Louisa felt her smile harden. She had to protect herself now. He might desire her, but he wasn’t going to marry her. She couldn’t rely on him. It was just as she’d always known deep down—she couldn’t rely on anyone but herself.
‘Thank you for the dance, Lord Fleetwood.’
She could see her formal tone hurt him, but she resisted the urge to reach out and touch him, take his hand in her own. She had to protect herself now and the only way she could see to do that was by pushing Robert away.
Chapter Twenty-One
Robert watched Louisa laugh at some young gentleman’s joke and felt his frown deepen. He hadn’t spoken to her since their dance, first thing in the evening. When she’d been in his arms it had almost been as if they were floating through the air, but afterwards she had stiffened, curtsied, then stalked off through the crowds.
Robert had been watching her ever since. She was radiant. Men flocked to her. Her smile was inviting, her happy demeanour encouraging. So many times he’d nearly pushed his way through the crowds to pull some young man away from her, but he’d restrained himself, knowing this was all his own doing.
Louisa had been ready to give herself to him. Up on the rooftop of the orphanage she’d kissed him. She’d leant forwards, brushed her lips against his and given him her heart. And he’d been the fool who’d thrown it back at her.
This was his punishment: watching her encourage all the other young men in the room whilst steadfastly ignoring him.
Robert still knew he couldn’t have Louisa. He was still living in the past, paying for his mistakes. She needed a better man than him.
The rebellious part of him asked him why he was still punishing himself. Everyone else had forgiven him, so why couldn’t he? Robert’s frown deepened. If he forgave himself, there was nothing stopping him from claiming Louisa as his own. He could marry her and whisk her away from all these other men, closeting her in his bedroom for many years to come.
The image of Louisa naked, sprawled beneath him, popped into Robert’s mind and he groaned out loud, gaining him an odd look from a group of ladies standing nearby.
It was, oh, so tempting. The idea of Louisa as his wife, the mother of his children.
‘Lord Fleetwood, how are you enjoying the evening?’ Mrs Knapwell asked, coming to stand beside him.
