Dance With Me At Midnight (Regency Fairy Twists Book 3)

by Samantha Holt

  “It’s just Phyllis?”

  “Yes.” Eloise scowled. “I am surprised she’s not closer by.”

  “Well, we had better start searching once more.”

  “Yes.” She took his hand for a moment, the soft touch of her gloved fingers making the hair on his arms stand on end. “Thank you for helping me, Charles.”

  Charles. It was the first time she’d used his name and to hear it upon her lips made him want to demand she say it over and over.

  “My pleasure. Now let’s find that old nag before she tramples through the house.”

  “Oh goodness, you don’t think she would, do you?”

  “I would if I were her. It would make the dinner party a lot more interesting.”

  “Oh.”

  “Forgive me, that is no comment on your hosting skills, I promise. I find all dinner parties dull and uncomfortable. In truth, I make a terrible earl. I loathe it all.”

  Her expression softened. “You make a wonderful earl. And I could not agree more. I loathe dinner parties too.”

  He chuckled. “I am mightily relieved I am not alone there. I’d far rather be alone or with…well, with one person whose company I truly enjoy.”

  He couldn’t tell in the dark but he hoped she was blushing. If she was, it meant she understood what he was saying.

  “We had better get searching,” she said softly.

  He nodded and led her outside. They began their search from where he found Lucy the sheep, scouring left and right until they reached the house. Eloise shook her head in despair.

  “She’s in the gardens, is she not? I’m certain of it now.”

  “Perhaps. But maybe she has not done any damage.”

  “If she has, my stepfather will surely make me get rid of the animals and no one will take them in. After all, who wants a grumpy sheep and two greedy goats and an old horse that can’t do anything.”

  “I will talk to him,” Charles offered. “I’m sure he’s not an unreasonable man.”

  She shook her head. “You don’t know him. He is not a kind man. He resents that he has to take care of me and resents my animals even more.”

  Charles could do nothing but take her hand and try to comfort her as they made their way around the house to the garden. Sure enough, Phyllis was in the gardens, chewing on a neatly cut patch of grass. Lanterns had been lit along the paths ensuring they could view the damage fully. She had trampled several flowerbeds and knocked over a couple of pots.

  “Eloise, come here.” The barked order came from the rear steps of the house.

  Eloise grimaced. “It looks as though I cannot hide this damage from him.”

  Charles narrowed his gaze at the viscount. Silhouetted by the light from the house, his arms were folded and it was likely his expression was furious. Charles could hardly let Eloise face his wrath, could he?

  “Perhaps I should deal with this.”

  She shook her head. “No, let me speak with him.”

  “I really think I should—”

  She held up a hand. “I am used to dealing with him. All will be well.” She pasted on a smile.

  At that moment, he wanted to sweep her off her feet and take her away from it all.

  Chapter Nine

  After a day of organizing and preparation, Eloise hardly felt in the mood for a ball. However, the mere fact she would see Charles there was enough to summon a little energy. Her feet ached from running to and from the ballroom and dining room and trekking down to the kitchen to ensure that all was going perfectly. She slipped on her silk, pointed shoes and tried not to think about how much dancing she would have to do tonight.

  But, maybe, just maybe, she would get a dance with Charles and it would be worth it.

  “Just a moment, my lady.” Milly reached up to tweak the comb holding her hair in place.

  “I cannot fuss for much longer.” Eloise glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece. “I shall be expected downstairs.”

  “And no doubt the earl will be waiting anxiously for you.”

  Eloise ignored the maid. Someone had spotted them together the previous evening, though Milly would not say who. She suspected it was one of the kitchen boys. Thankfully none of the servants would say a thing to her stepfather or else he’d have her scandalized and married off to Charles in an instant.

  Not that that was the most terrible of things but she still did not know the man well enough, and she did not think scandal was quite the way to start a marriage.

  “Fool!” Albert reminded her.

  “He is not a fool,” she told the parrot, pointing a finger in his direction. “You would do well to be more polite to him.”

  “Especially if he becomes Eloise’s husband,” Milly agreed with a giggle.

  Eloise leaned into the mirror and adjusted the beaded headband Milly had intertwined through her curls. “Let us not get ahead of ourselves. Charles is a pleasant man—”

  “And a handsome one. And charming. Well-bred. Wealthy.”

  “But that does not mean we should marry. I have only known him a short while.”

  “What does time matter when it comes to love?”

  “Love?” Eloise spluttered. “Who said anything of love?”

  Milly shook her head. “Who could not fall in love with a man like that?”

  “If you like him so much, perhaps you should dance with him tonight.”

  “Do not be silly, my lady. It is clear he has his sights set on you.”

  Eloise drew in a breath and released it. “Even if he has, how can I leave the animals?”

  “I am sure he has a barn. You’re making excuses.”

  Perhaps. But perhaps not. She could not forget that not long ago she hardly wanted to set eyes on the man. Yes, he had revealed himself to be a kinder, more caring man than she had originally thought, and when on his own, he was quite wonderful to speak with, but they still hardly knew one another.

  “Do not get your hopes up,” Eloise counselled, more to herself than the maid. What was wrong with her that suddenly all she could think of was Charles? Was she so very fickle? She had never considered herself the type to fall head over slippers in love. Goodness, she hardly had time for that, not with all the animals and the house to run.

  “Well, whatever happens,” Milly said. “At least you shall get a dance with a handsome man tonight.”

  Eloise scowled. “I have danced with handsome men before.”

  “Have you?”

  She laughed. “Perhaps not. The best of them was Sir Lewis and he had three chins.”

  “And he stomped on your feet.”

  Clapping a hand over her mouth, another burst of laughter escaped Eloise. “I forgot. I had to soak my feet in ice for hours afterward.”

  “I am sure the earl will not be trampling on your toes.”

  She nodded. “I am sure he will not.” She stepped back from the mirror and admired herself. The blue silk complimented her complexion and the little lace touches gave her slender figure more shape. She wore only a tiny locket around her neck.

  “Will I do?” she asked the maid.

  “You will more than do,” the woman said with a smile. “All the men shall want a dance with you. But, of course, we do not care about all the men, do we?”

  “Saucy wench!” Albert piped up.

  “I hope you are directing that to Milly and not me,” Eloise told the bird. “She is the one with all the sordid ideas.”

  Milly put a hand to her chest. “There is nothing sordid about my ideas.” She gave a dreamy sigh. “No, they are all romantic. Swept off your feet by a handsome earl, taken away from your horrible stepfather and vile stepbrothers. What could be better?”

  “A polite parrot,” Eloise suggested.

  They both laughed.

  “Agreed,” said the maid. “Now hurry. Do not keep the earl waiting. I shall try and sneak a look later. I hope to see you dancing with him.”

  “I shall have to dance with all the other men in attendance too, you
know. You shall likely see me dancing with Mr. Fossbury or Sir Beechwood.”

  “Both of whom are old enough to be your grandfather. Can you not decline?”

  “You know I cannot.” Those two men in particular came to the spring ball every year and were always quick to ask for a dance. Both were sweet old men who were not the most agile or sprightly but she knew they enjoyed her patient company while they mastered the steps.

  However, it would all be worth it if she got to dance with Charles, a little voice reminded her.

  She sighed and shook her head at her reflection. She was becoming as bad as Milly.

  By the time she had gone downstairs, a few guests that had not been staying arrived. Before long, the ballroom would be full to the brim and Eloise simply had to hope all would go well as there was little she could do now. Following in the footsteps of her mother’s excellent organizational skills and living up to her stepfather’s expectations was never easy.

  Mr. Fossbury did indeed claim a dance but Sir Beechwood found himself distracted by a charming older lady whom Eloise had rather hoped would be a hit with all the widowers. Mrs. Roberts had moved to their village not long after her husband’s death to be near her sister and had been in mourning ever since. This was her first proper social event and it pleased Eloise to see her enjoying it.

  However, in the thick of the crowd, she had yet to see Charles. As the ballroom filled, it became harder to find anyone. She pushed her way between bosoms and bottoms to get to the edge of the room where the orchestra played. The large windows that spanned nearly from the ceiling to the floor let in a little cool air and she took a moment to cool down before scanning the room again.

  “Coo-ee.”

  Eloise grimaced as her stepbrothers came to join her. David waggled his fingers and grinned.

  “Heard you had a bit of an adventure last night,” he said.

  “Heard you had to play farmer,” added Adam.

  “Father was not happy about the duck. Not happy at all. I hear he’s considering demolishing the barn. Then where will you keep all your filthy animals?”

  Her stepfather had not been happy at all but she had managed to appease him by implying she used the time to charm Charles. The idea of connections with that sort of wealth had made him quickly forget about the duck and the damage to the garden.

  She narrowed her gaze at them both. “If your father is unhappy about the duck, it was only because you two let the animals lose. Perhaps I should mention that you were intent on destroying the spring ball.”

  David snorted. “As if he would believe you.”

  “Everyone knows you spend too much time with animals. They all think you’re mad. Father would never believe you over us.”

  She lifted a shoulder. “I would rather spend time with animals than the likes of you two. The goats have better manners than either of you. And they eat less.” She glanced at Adam’s stomach. “Say, have you been overindulging a little recently?”

  Adam thrust up his chin. “Just because you do not have an ounce of flesh on your bones. Indeed, I even heard the earl mention how scrawny you were.”

  “Did I just hear my name taken in vain?” Charles put a hand briefly to Eloise’s arm and smiled.

  Her heart did gambol after gambol. How silly it was to be so easily affected by one simple smile, but, really, it was the nicest smile she had ever seen.

  “Oh no,” fumbled Adam. “We were just, um…” He swung his gaze about. “Oh look, there’s the Ambury brothers. Let us go greet them. Come on, David.”

  Adam snatched his brother’s arm and dragged him off so fast that his wine sloshed over his glass.

  “Was it something I said?” Charles grinned.

  “Yes, and I am mightily glad you did.”

  “They are not the nicest of men, are they?”

  Eloise giggled. “That is putting it mildly. I know it was them who let the animals loose last night. They were hoping to get me into trouble.”

  “And did they?” His green eyes were filled with concern. It made her all warm and squishy inside. While of course the servants were kind to her and cared for her welfare, it was different when a man who was not being paid to look after her cared about her welfare.

  “I managed to persuade him all was well. How long that shall last, I do not know. He is desperate to get rid of my animals but with the ball happening, he cannot do much.”

  “You fear he might do something once it is over?”

  She tucked her bottom lip under her teeth and nodded. “I have managed to distract him for some time now but I do not think it shall last, especially if…”

  “If?”

  She shook her head. She could hardly tell him that if Charles did not decide she was the lady for him, her stepfather would likely take his anger out on the animals.

  A waltz was announced and Charles offered out a hand. “Have you ever waltzed?”

  “Yes, we have had it here for a few years now. The older ladies took some time to come around but now they rather enjoy it.”

  “Will you waltz with me then?”

  She slipped her gloved hand into his and sucked in a shaky breath. There was no need to feel so nervous, none at all. She had danced many a waltz, even if it was with Mr. Fossbury or Sir Lewis who trampled her toes.

  Charles led her out to the dance floor. Sir Beechwood had managed to persuade Mrs. Roberts to join him and even her stepfather deigned to take a partner—a Mrs. Harrison—though he did not look thrilled at the prospect, likely because he knew Mrs. Harrison had been angling for a new husband for a while and she had her sights set on the viscount.

  Once Charles took her in his arms, she forgot the others. She forgot her awful stepbrothers, her grumpy stepfather, old Sir Beechwood and anyone else that began to move around them.

  She grew too aware of his hands about her, of the light touch of his hand cradling hers. The swish of her skirts and the step of his boots echoed in her head. He moved perfectly, guiding her around the floor as if she were a feather. The creases around his eyes match those around his mouth. How she could have considered this man so vile and horrible, she did not know. But then, she had not known him. She suspected she understood him much better now. He did not like people, he enjoyed animals, particularly horses, he was kind and caring, and quite the gentleman when he wanted to be. But he did not put up with nonsense or foolish people like her stepbrothers.

  He had to have a flaw surely?

  “What is it?” he asked as she stared up at him.

  “I am wondering if you have any flaws,” she admitted.

  “Plenty, I can assure you of that. I do not take well to being attacked by parrots for one.”

  “In your defense, Albert is the most uncommonly rude parrot.”

  “I think I envy him in some ways. He can tell everyone what he thinks of them without any recourse.”

  “And you wish to go around calling everyone fools, do you?”

  He chuckled. “Sometimes. I do not find I enjoy such events as this. Everyone is too busy trying to outdo one another and the conversation is benign. Or at least, I used not to enjoy these.”

  “And what changed your mind?”

  His eyes grew warmer and her breath trapped in her chest.

  “Why, you, of course.”

  Unable to summon a response, she allowed herself to get wrapped up in the moment once more. Thoughts of the future or what it might hold for them flittered away and she absorbed the feeling of being in the arms of a man who truly liked her.

  A crash sounded nearby. Not quite loud enough to jolt her out of her dream-like state but enough to register that someone had knocked something to the ground. Likely it was a clumsy footman or a drunken guest having knocked over a glass. None of it really registered until a sharp pain speared through her foot.

  She let out a cry and nearly toppled to the ground. Were it not for Charles’ quick actions, she would have done just that. And she would have fallen on broken glass, she realized a
s she glanced down.

  “Damn,” Charles hissed.

  The pain pulsed through the side of her foot. Charles swept her up into his arms so that she was cradled in them. The orchestra had ceased and everyone had stopped dancing to watch what was going on.

  “Clear a path,” he demanded as he carried her through the crowds.

  The sharp stabbing feeling in her foot did not fade and she bit down on her lip while tears welled in her eyes. She saw concerned faces through the haze of them.

  “Someone send for the doctor,” he commanded before leaving the ballroom and carrying her up upstairs. “This is your room, is it not?”

  She nodded and sniffed. In her life, there had been grazed knees, a couple of minor burns, and little else. None had hurt as much as this. It felt as though her whole foot was aflame.

  “Fool!” screeched Albert as they entered the room. The bird ruffled his feathers in agitation. “Saucy wench!”

  Charles set her down onto the bed and lit several candles from the fire that had been left burning in the grate. Once the room was illuminated, he perched on the side of the bed and lifted her foot.

  “What’s happened?” she asked. “Was it the glass?” In all the commotion, she had not actually been able to see the damage.

  “Yes.” He grimaced. “A piece has pierced the side of your shoe.”

  She dropped her head back and bit down on her lip again. “You had better take it out, I imagine.”

  “Yes,” he said again. “Take deep breaths. It won’t take a second. Just concentrate on breathing.”

  She did as she was told and eyed the canopy above her bed. In and out. Breath in and out.

  “Owww.”

  “Sorry, it is a little stuck.” Another stab of pain tore through her foot. It seemed her shoe was preventing the glass from coming out. He tried again and she whimpered.

  “Forgive me, Eloise,” he said, voice full of regret. “If I could save you from this pain, I would.”

  He gave one strong tug and the glass came free. The agony slowly gave way to relief. He cast aside the sharp, long piece of glass, leaving it upon a tray on her vanity table and hastily pulled off her shoe. She could see a dark red patch that had stained the pale shoe.