Pitt studied the women’s table, likely taking note of the ladies who were making eyes and smiling at me.
I lowered my lashes and watched Olivia as I did from time to time without her knowing I was doing so. My thoughts returned to earlier in the eve when she’d snuck into my chambers during my bath.
I’d accused her of stealing when I’d been guilty of the same. I had indeed taken her most prized possessions. Of course, at the time of my invasion of Ludlow Castle, I’d justified my actions by telling myself the items were spoils of war, that the earl deserved the losses, that I was exacting justice against crimes committed in the realm.
But did I really have the right to take everything that had belonged to Olivia?
“You’re staring at Lady Olivia again,” Pitt said dipping his spoon into a silver bowl filled with creamy custard.
“No I’m not.”
Pitt barked a laugh. “You can’t fool me. I see the way you watch her. Now go ask her to dance.”
“She’s our prisoner.”
“She’s a noblewoman of high birth and a worthy match.” He leaned in and spoke in a whisper. “Besides, she’s the most beautiful of the maidens here.”
Every encounter with her was like an exhilarating challenge. I never knew what to expect, never knew what she might say or do. She was unconventional and bold and determined. Somehow that sparked life inside me in a way I hadn’t felt in a long time, if ever. And that scared me.
“If you ask her, I promise I’ll stop hounding you,” Pitt said. “At least for a few minutes.”
“For the rest of the night?”
“For an hour.”
“Very well.” I pushed away from the table and ignored Pitt’s satisfied grin. I’d give him what he wanted and then get an hour of peace. By then, the festivities would likely be nearing their end, and I would be free to retire for the night.
As I approached the women’s table, several of the maidens watched me, their anticipation growing. Silently, I berated Pitt for putting me in the position where I would need to break their hearts. I simply wasn’t interested in a match no matter how pleasant or pretty they were.
Olivia was actually the perfect choice as a partner for the evening because she wouldn’t place expectations upon me for an attachment, not when she was anticipating a union with Lionel Lacy. In fact, even if she didn’t have designs on Lionel, she’d never consider me, not when she believed I was nothing more than a lowly knight. Of course, she’d likely taken stock of my wealth. But for a woman like Olivia, wealth would never be enough.
I passed the length of the women’s table until I reached the far end. I could sense her attention upon me much the same as the other women. She was interested, or at least curious, in my next choice. That realization bolstered my courage as I halted next to her.
“My lady.” I bowed and offered her my hand. “Would you honor me with your company for the next dance?” It was the same question I’d posed to the other women, nothing more and nothing less.
Yet, Olivia’s eyes flashed as though mocking me for my unoriginality. “Since you are clearly weary of the proceedings, I shall not tax you further.”
I was surprised she’d read me so well. But I attempted to keep any further emotions from showing. “I’m not too weary to dance with you.”
“And what if I am too weary to dance with you?” She toyed with the stem of her goblet, turning it around. Next to her, Isabelle watched our exchange, her blue eyes wide with trepidation, likely worried what Olivia might say or do next.
From the lift of Olivia’s chin and set of her mouth, I sensed she had no intention of dancing with me, especially if she believed I was only asking her out of obligation and had no desire to be with her. She was a proud and stubborn woman, one who wouldn’t be easily swayed, and I had no wish to battle her this eve.
Yet, from the corner of my eye, I could see Pitt watching my interaction with Lady Olivia with almost gleeful interest. He wouldn’t be satisfied if I returned to the table without engaging this feisty prisoner of ours in a dance. He might even order me to return and ask her again.
Having now garnered the attention of the other women as well as nearby guests, I would need to persuade Lady Olivia to dance. And there was one way to make her do anything.
I bent so that I was close to her ear. “If you don’t accept this dance, you’ll force me to ask Lady Isabelle. And I know you don’t want me drawing attention to her any more than I do.”
My whisper had the desired effect. Olivia stiffened and lifted defiant eyes to me. “You would not dare.”
“You might leave me no choice.”
She released her goblet and gave me a cold look. “Very well. I shall dance with you. But you should know most women prefer to be enticed onto the dance floor, not forced.”
“Do you wish that I entice you, my lady?” I asked, holding out my hand to her again.
“I doubt you could even if you put the whole of your effort into it.”
Her declaration issued a silent challenge, one that made my insides quicken. I wanted to prove her wrong, wanted to show her I was capable of wooing and winning any woman I set my sights upon.
She rose from her spot on the bench as regally as if she were a queen, her shoulders squared, her chin high. When she placed her fingers into mine, however, she couldn’t hide the tremble, the one that told me I affected her the same way she did me.
I was normally a rigidly self-controlled person and could hold myself aloof in most situations. But this woman caused me to lose all sense of objectivity every time she was near.
One dance, I silently admonished. I’d keep her at arm’s length, just as I had with all the other women. Then I’d be done for the night.
I led her to the center of the hall where the tables and benches had been pushed against the walls to make room for the dancing.
“You might be quite inept at wooing a woman,” she said, positioning herself in front of me for the dance. “But rest assured, you are quite accomplished at playing the part of a poppet on a stick for Lord Pitt.”
“Poppet on a stick?” I couldn’t contain my humor. Laughter bubbled up, and I found myself chuckling at her analogy.
Her chin rose a notch higher, tilting her pretty face up to mine. “I have no doubt if Lord Pitt asked you to jump up onto the table and entertain him like a jester, you would.”
I laughed again, and the release made me feel lighter. With one hand I took hold of her waist, and with the other directed our hands upward so that they were pointed together. “Pray tell, what else do you think I would do as Lord Pitt’s poppet?”
As I began to lead her through the motions of the dance, she followed. Her footsteps tapped out the rhythm as expertly as mine. She’d been taught to dance just as I had, and the movements required very little thought and allowed us to continue bantering.
“Lord Pitt wants his favorite poppet to find a wife.” Her lips curled into a semblance of a smile, one that lit her eyes.
“He only wishes for my happiness.”
“And would taking a wife make you happy, sir?”
“Not in the least.” She already knew my stance on remarrying. Her questions were only an attempt to goad me, and I wouldn’t give her the pleasure of reacting.
“Then am I to assume Lord Pitt is wrong in his assessment of what you need.”
“He meddles where he shouldn’t.”
“So you will deny him what he wants?”
“I give him what he wants by keeping his coffers full and his enemies subdued.”
She studied my face. “Does that mean you will defy your master and refuse to take a bride from among these women as he bids you to do?”
“I think you know I am no one’s poppet, my lady.” My voice came out low, almost a growl. She had to know by now I wasn’t a weakling. If she didn’t then I would find a way to show her.