Geoffrey stepped toward her, to the center of the aisle. Liliana started, remembering she was supposed to be dancing. She met him, touching her right hand to his as they bowed to each other. Even through her glove, the touch seemed intimate, and for a moment all of her attention focused squarely on Geoffrey.
“You look dashing tonight,” she blurted, then nearly clapped a hand over her mouth. She was such a ninny when she was distracted, too used to speaking her mind to remember to hold her tongue.
Geoffrey’s slow smile made the slip almost worth it. “Do I?” He leaned in close, and she caught a hint of mint. His voice deepened as they circled each other in the first steps of the dance. “Surely you know how ravishing you look tonight.”
Liliana was glad the dance called for her to turn away from him at that moment so he couldn’t see her blush. She’d never call herself ravishing, but she knew the blue of her dress accentuated her coloring well. She’d been mortified when the modiste had suggested it. The bodice was cut extremely low, and the high waist showcased her bosom. She’d almost refused it after the final fitting, but now, given the pleasure she got from the way Geoffrey looked at her, Liliana was fiercely glad Pen had made her order the little satin slip dress.
“You flatter me overmuch, Geoffrey,” she said as she turned a graceful figure eight around first him, then the woman next to her in the procession. Geoffrey followed suit with the gentleman next to him.
“I believe that is the first time you’ve used my name,” Geoffrey said, taking her hand as they twirled. He gave it a slight squeeze, drawing her gaze to his intense one. “The first of many times, I pray.”
Their hands touched and her forehead nearly grazed his. She could almost feel the vibration of his voice.
“I’ve come to like you very much, Liliana,” Geoffrey murmured. “We have a great deal more in common than I’d imagined. And as to that, I have a proposition for you.”
Liliana was loath to move away from him into the figure eight that would once again advance them down the line. What could Geoffrey possibly mean, a proposition?
Finally, a gliding step brought her face-to-face with him. “A proposition?” she asked, but before he could answer, he had to turn away.
Blast this dance! Always moving one away from her partner. Liliana joined arms with the woman next to her perfunctorily, yet inside she bristled, anxious to return to her conversation with Geoffrey.
They met in the center, Geoffrey taking her hand for the twirl. “Well, as I see it, you and I have been done the same wrong,” he said, his voice dropping lower.
Liliana’s stomach clenched, the pressure so powerful it cut off her breath. All the while, the figure eight forced her away once again. He couldn’t mean their fathers. He couldn’t. Yes, he’d spoken to Witherspoon alone, but only for a moment. Surely not long enough for the man to relay his tale. Nor had Geoffrey seemed upset when he’d escorted her to the tea shop so she might return with the other ladies.
Liliana and Geoffrey met face-to-face, touching hands before turning away. Another loop with the neighbor woman, and Liliana again joined Geoffrey in the center. Best to act ignorant, not give away anything until she knew more. “I don’t understand.”
“My mother,” he said, shaking his head. As close as their foreheads were throughout the twirl, Liliana felt the air move counterpoint against her skin. “She’s put me in a regrettable position, I fear.”
“Yes,” Liliana murmured. She could certainly see where learning his mother may have killed his father would be regrettable. But why would Geoffrey say they had been done the same wrong?
Liliana sucked in a breath. Could he mean Lady Stratford had also been responsible for her father’s death?
“Just as your aunt has put you,” Geoffrey continued.
What? Liliana missed a step in the intricate dance and trod upon the foot of the woman next to her, who yelped in surprised outrage.
Liliana mumbled an apology and tried to recover. What had her aunt to do with anything?
“Your aunt brought you here hoping you might attract a husband,” he explained when next he moved close enough to keep their conversation private. “My mother has invited all of these women here in hopes that I might choose a bride. Neither of us wishes to comply. Therefore, I propose we band together.”
A hysterical giggle bubbled from Liliana’s lips, earning her more than one glance.
My goodness. What had she been thinking? It was just that after what she’d learned from Witherspoon, Geoffrey had surprised her with that “done the same wrong” statement, and then—
“Is something amiss?” Geoffrey asked, tilting his head with concern.
“No, no,” Liliana assured him. “Just embarrassed over my footing. Please, go on.”
“Well, I’d like you to agree to allow me to squire you exclusively for the remainder of the house party,” he said.
“You would…?” she said slowly.
“I would. It should sufficiently annoy my mother and perhaps satisfy your aunt into letting you alone. Unless…” Geoffrey narrowed his eyes, a frown setting like the sun over the horizon of his lips. “You don’t have hopes where Aveline is concerned, do you? I wouldn’t wish to interfere if you have an understanding with him.”
“What? No,” Liliana answered, marveling at the change in Geoffrey. His clenched jaw and rigid posture suggested he most certainly did wish to interfere with such a thing. A feminine thrill uncoiled in Liliana, even though she had no business feeling it. “No. In fact, I received a note from Aveline just this afternoon explaining he’d been called to Town and wouldn’t return to Shropshire for some time. I don’t expect to see him again.”
Something about that still bothered Liliana, but she had far too many other mysteries to solve at the moment.
Geoffrey cleared his throat. “Good.”
Still, she should at least ask…“How well do you know Aveline?”
Geoffrey shot her an odd look but answered. “Well enough, I suppose. We’ve been neighbors for years, though I’ve been gone for well over a decade.”
That didn’t help much. “But would you consider yourselves friends?”
Geoffrey shrugged, though he seemed to be bristling from the line of questioning. “He’s a good enough man, as far as I remember. His mother was French, came over well before the Terror, but certainly because her family sensed what was coming. Aveline took a bit of ribbing over being half French after war broke out. It grew worse when he was detained in France for several years, along with other British tourists. Some questioned his loyalty,” he said, taking her hand once more as they entered the last movement. “But I don’t want to talk about Aveline. I’d rather discuss my proposal.”
The ending strains of the violins echoed through the air. Geoffrey turned Liliana in the final twirl.
“What do you think?” Geoffrey asked, settling her arm on his.
“I must consider for a moment,” Liliana said, mulling over his suggestion. Part of her found it difficult not to rub her hands together with satisfaction. Her chances of finally uncovering the truth behind her father’s death increased a hundredfold if she attached herself to Geoffrey. And yet, his exclusive attentions would be considered by some to be tantamount to declaring himself. He’d been away for more than a decade and had probably not spent many years in the ballrooms. He might not understand that when they eventually parted, she would be the one looked at as tainted, as though something must have been wrong with her to lose Geoffrey’s regard. It would be her reputation ruined, if not actually, then practically.