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  “Unlike you,” Ben drawled.

  Hackberry ignored him. “Do you think this is the reason Miss Thorne doesn’t like daisies?”

  “I can’t say.” Eve had been adamant that there be no daisies in her wedding bouquet, and Ben hadn’t questioned her. Their mothers had been under instruction to allow Eve whatever she wanted. The cost wasn’t to be a deterrent. Perhaps another young lady would have taken advantage of his wealth, but Eve had always been sensible about those things.

  Reaching Thorne Place at last, Hackberry grabbed for the knocker before Ben and rapped on the door. “Allow me to explain to Eve,” Hackberry said. “Bringing you to our lesson might be just the thing to upset the apple cart.”

  “But I don’t want to upset—” The door eased open, and Ben swallowed the rest of his reply. Upsetting Eve was not his goal, although now he feared that was exactly what his presence would do.

  Thorne’s butler stood at the threshold, his posture rigid and proper. The only sign of surprise was the slight widening of his eyes. “Sir Jonathan. Mr. Hillary. Miss Thorne did not inform me to expect both of you.”

  “Shh…” Hackberry flashed a dotty grin. “It is a surprise.”

  * * *

  Eve heard Jonathan’s voice in the foyer and a trill of pleasure passed through her. She hadn’t been confident he would come, for he had sent around several excuses lately bowing out of their plans. Nevertheless, today he was here, and Eve was willing to overlook his past inattentiveness so long as it didn’t continue.

  She was anxious to teach him the waltz. It was her favorite dance. Ben had introduced her to the joys of gliding around the ballroom as if clouds cushioned each step. It would be foolish to expect the same amount of grace from Jonathan. Yet she didn’t wish to give up the dance entirely just because he had been traveling the world when the waltz came to London.

  She hopped up from her perch on the settee in the drawing room to go greet her betrothed. Sweeping into the foyer, she stopped so abruptly it must have appeared she slammed into an invisible wall.

  Ben. What in the blazes was he doing here? Her breathing became shallow and choppy. And with Jonathan?

  “Ah, Miss Thorne. How exquisite you look today.” Jonathan came forward, gushing with more compliments on her gown, her hair, and her healthy complexion. Her face burned at the extravagance of his flattery. This behavior was quite unlike him, although he’d never begrudged her a kind word.

  He swooped down to kiss both of her cheeks one after the other, a horrible stench making her nose wrinkle before she could hide her reaction. He covered his mouth, muffling his sheepish chuckle. “Cook served onions earlier. I couldn’t resist.”

  “Oh.” He urged the bouquet into her hands. “Uh, th-thank—” Her nose tingled and she flicked her knuckle over it. “Thank you.”

  “Have you met Mr. Hillary?” Jonathan asked.

  Eve blinked, bewildered by his short memory, then nodded.

  “Oh, that is right. How could I have forgotten? You and he…and then he— Well, you both know what happened.” Jonathan’s smiled stretched across his face. “But it is all water under the bridge now, isn’t it?” How casually he shrugged off his arriving with Eve’s former betrothed, the man Jonathan knew had jilted her.

  She puckered her lips in displeasure, but since her nose tingled again, she wiggled her lips side to side in an attempt to ease the itch.

  Oblivious to her changing mood, Jonathan prattled on about crossing paths with Ben that morning and what an abysmal dancer Jonathan was. He spoke in rapid sentences she could barely follow, and he gestured wildly with his hands.

  Her gaze locked on Ben’s penetrating blue stare. His eyes, fringed with dark wispy lashes, conveyed an odd mixture of emotions. She thought she read hope and despair in their depths, but it could be nothing more than her fanciful imagination. And there was longing. She knew that look. But is it for me? Her heart ricocheted off her breastbone.

  “Why, just the other day Lady Norwick was telling me how I needed to improve my footwork and suggested I learn to imitate the Hillary men, who are reportedly all fine dancers.” Jonathan was still talking and she tried to focus on the sound of his voice to bring her back to him. “Apparently the ladies are very eager to attract Mr. Hillary’s attention now that he has returned to London.”

  She jolted out of her trance. “Pardon?” She blinked again to ease the prickly burn invading her eyes. And her nose was itching like the dickens now.

  Jonathan tossed a look back over his shoulder at Ben. “I figured I could do better than imitate Mr. Hillary. I asked for his help providing instruction.”

  “But I was planning to—achoo!”

  “God bless you,” Jonathan offered.

  “Thank you. As I was saying—” She sneezed again.

  “Bless you.”

  Then she sneezed twice more. Jonathan continued to bless her with each violent convulsing of her body before continuing his constant stream of chatter.

  Ben came forward with a furrowed brow, handed her his handkerchief, and took the flowers. She looked at them for the first time. Daisies? Oh, for heaven’s sake. No wonder her eyes and nose were running. She probably looked like a glowing red-nosed mess now.

  Ben stalked over to Milo. “Take these away.”

  “Yes, sir.” The butler abandoned his normally dignified pace to remove the offending flowers from the room.

  She dabbed at her nose and smiled with gratitude at Ben. She couldn’t very well ask him to leave now, could she? How had he known the daisies were the source of her sneezing? Worse, how had Jonathan failed to notice?

  Her betrothed’s smile was positively gleeful when she looked up at him. “Are we ready to begin?” he asked.

  She offered a half smile of her own. When he bubbled with enthusiasm, he reminded her of an eager puppy. How was she to remain irritated with a puppy without feeling like an ogre?

  “If you will follow me, gentlemen. The servants have pushed the furniture to the outer edges of the drawing room so we have ample space to move.”

  When Ben offered his arm, she was beyond tempted to accept his escort. Instead, she linked arms with Jonathan, offering an apologetic smile to Ben. He inclined his head in acceptance, then followed her and Jonathan to the drawing room.

  Her maid looked up from her darning when Eve entered with the two men. Her thin gray eyebrows lifted, but she didn’t make a sound. Since Helena was meeting with her solicitor, Eve had enlisted Alice to act as her chaperone this afternoon. Mama would have fulfilled the role if Eve had asked, but she hated to bother her mother when she rarely had a day when she felt well anymore.

  “I’m afraid we have no music,” Eve said, “but perhaps it will be easier to learn the steps without it first.”

  She moved to the center of the floor, lifted her arms into position, and took a deep breath to fortify herself for the hour ahead. Ben gestured for Jonathan to join her before selecting a spot close to the window where she couldn’t help but see him. His gaze remained locked on her, making her stomach tumble over and over.

  Her chin quivered the slightest little bit, and she clamped her jaw together to hide her nerves. When Jonathan stepped in front of her and blocked her view of Ben, it required all her willpower not to peer around her betrothed to see Ben again in spite of the way he made her shaky inside.

  Jonathan’s unexpected touch on her back made her gasp and jump. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

  “No, pardon me, sir.” She stole a quick glance at his face to determine if he was insulted by her reaction, but he simply looked back with wide-eyed expectation. Her shoulders relaxed and she felt a smile tug at the corners of her mouth. She appreciated his easygoing nature. Even now, with her former love looking on, he maintained his cheerful countenance.

  “Let us begin with the box step.” Eve slowly went through the simple steps until Jo
nathan seemed to grow comfortable. “Splendid. You are performing superbly.”

  Ben was leaning with one hip against the wall and his thumb hooked in his trouser pocket. His oh-so-handsome face was devoid of expression, but his gaze burned into her.

  “Step left, together. Side, together. Now right.”

  As Jonathan studied his feet and repeated the steps aloud, Eve’s attention gravitated toward Ben. His blue eyes darkened when she held his gaze longer than proper. The corners of his mouth curved with a knowing smile. She glanced away quickly.

  “Excellent. You are doing marvelously.” Her voice came out high-pitched, and her praise was too lavish for Jonathan’s performance. “Let’s increase the tempo. I think you are ready.”

  His brows lowered dubiously over his serious eyes.

  “Like this.” She halted their dancing to clap out the rhythm. “Just move your feet in time with the tempo.”

  She stole a peek at Ben, who hadn’t taken his eyes off her. A flash of heat swept through her as Jonathan took her hand to try the dance once again.

  “On three we will move left. One, two, three.” She bungled her own instructions, moved in the wrong direction, and came down awkwardly, rolling her ankle. A stabbing pain shot up her leg, and she cried out.

  “Eve!” Ben pushed away from the wall.

  “No,” she blurted before he touched her. “I-I am all right.” She lied. Her ankle throbbed with each beat of her heart, and she bit down on her lip to keep from whimpering.

  Jonathan supported her as she balanced on one leg. He grimaced as if he too were in pain. “Miss Thorne, I am sorry. I should have paid better attention. Can you walk on it?”

  It wasn’t Jonathan’s fault, but he was gallant to take responsibility. “I think so.” Gingerly she touched her toes to the floor, but the slight pressure made her hiss.

  “No, you can’t.” Ben lifted her in his arms, cradling her against his chest. She held herself stiff and fought the urge to melt against him as he carried her to the settee. The faint tones of his cologne teased her nose. She inhaled, savoring his scent: an exotic woodsy aroma with a hint of lemon.

  “Oh dear,” her maid said. Alice’s mending had been abandoned on the floor, and she shifted her weight from foot to foot. “Oh dear. What should I do, miss?”

  “Find a pillow, then send for the doctor.” Ben’s orders were spoken calmly, but it was clear he expected Eve’s servant to comply.

  Alice bustled over to the Chippendale chairs that had been shoved against the fireplace and retrieved two pillows. With great care, Ben placed Eve on the settee then crouched beside her. He took the pillows from Alice and arranged them under Eve’s ankle as the maid left to carry out his instructions.

  “Rest. The doctor will come soon.” His voice was soothing and distracted her from the pain. “May I examine your ankle?”

  He reached for her skirts, but she planted her hand against his chest. “No! And I don’t need a doctor.”

  He covered her hand with his. Goose bumps rose along her arm. His heartbeat was strong and rapid, betraying his calm facade. “Evie,” he murmured.

  Jonathan cleared his throat, and they jerked apart. A furious heat seared her cheeks and she dropped her gaze to her lap. “Miss Thorne, please allow Mr. Hillary to check your injury. He only wishes to help.”

  When she glanced at Jonathan standing at the end of the settee, his long face and stooped shoulders stabbed at her heart. He appeared so defeated. She couldn’t stomach the thought of hurting him.

  “I will wait for the doctor.” Her voice was firm, and Ben held his hands up in surrender. “Forgive me, Sir Jonathan,” she said. “I only wanted a partner to waltz with me, and instead I’ve ruined our day with my clumsiness.” And not just with her misstep on the dance floor. Her misstep with Ben was unforgivable.

  Ben rocked back on his heels and sighed. He swung his head toward Jonathan. “We can’t very well allow the entire day to be spoiled, can we? You brought me here for a reason, and I hate to see the lady disappointed.”

  A smile inched across Jonathan’s face. “As do I. What do you propose?”

  Ben rose and with a grimness befitting a condemned man, he held his hand out to Jonathan. “May I have this dance?”

  “Ben,” Eve blurted and laughed.

  He winked at her, his eyes teasing. “Now, don’t be jealous, Miss Thorne. I only mean to borrow your betrothed. You may have him back as soon as he has mastered the waltz.”

  Jonathan’s good humor returned as well. “In other words, she may never see me again.”

  “Exactly.”

  Eve’s heart lifted as the men took position in the center of the room.

  “Am I the gentleman or lady?” Jonathan asked.

  “I believe that is obvious, Hackberry. But for the sake of learning, you may assume the role of gentleman.”

  Their banter continued as Ben led Jonathan through the steps.

  “You are squeezing my hand,” Ben complained. “If I were a lady, you would crack the bones.”

  “If you were a lady, I wouldn’t mind you holding me so close,” Jonathan shot back. “Give me a bit of breathing room.”

  Eve chuckled as Ben purposefully tried to stomp his partner’s toes, and Jonathan danced and hopped to avoid Ben’s boots.

  “That’s better, more lively,” Ben quipped. “Now apply it to the waltz.”

  Given the chance to observe, Eve relaxed against the cushion and rested her head along the back of the settee. It was nice to see the men getting along, although she didn’t know what it meant. They seemed the most unlikely of friends. Her eyes narrowed on Jonathan’s lovely green waistcoat as Ben wrangled him on the dance floor when Jonathan made a misstep.

  Oh, for pity’s sake. The man couldn’t even button his waistcoat correctly. She suppressed a sigh. Poor Jonathan needed a keeper, and she feared he would be lost without her.

  The sight of two handsome men prancing around her brother’s drawing room made her smile. They were both amiable gents, and she enjoyed their teasing with one another. After a quarter hour passed, she had to admit Ben was the superior instructor. Jonathan was already learning to travel and perform the promenade.

  She applauded when Jonathan spun Ben under his arm. “Bravo!”

  Milo walked in as they repeated the spin. His jaw dropped, and Eve giggled. Ben and Jonathan released each other and quickly moved to opposite sides of the drawing room. The staunch butler schooled his features, then announced the doctor had arrived.

  Eleven

  Eve’s ankle injury proved to be nothing more than a sprain, and six days later, she was well enough to resume her usual activities outside of the home. Only the occasional twinge reminded her to slow down and not overtax herself, but she was certainly well enough to attend one of Jonathan’s lectures at the museum.

  “Shall we?” Jonathan held out his arm to escort her to the door of Thorne Place.

  When her maid donned a bonnet and nodded to Eve to signal she was ready, Eve linked arms with her betrothed.

  Jonathan’s eyes twinkled. “Did I ever mention the frame drum also could be traced to Greece and the goddess Athena?”

  “Yes, I believe you have mentioned it a time or two.” Or fifty. She squeezed his arm affectionately. His childlike enthusiasm made her smile, even if she was growing a bit tired of hearing the same information.

  “I find it fascinating how diverse the ancient civilizations were, and yet universally they incorporated drums into their worship of their gods.” He spoke in a rush of words. “Drums were used in war too, but most Continental empires only employ drums on the battlefield. There seems to be something terribly wrong with this practice.”

  “I never really thought about it, but I suppose that is true.” Eve wrinkled her brow when they walked outside and there wasn’t a hack waiting for them in the street.
She tossed a look over her shoulder at Alice, who seemed just as puzzled. Jonathan whisked Eve along the walkway without explanation. She scanned the street for a carriage, but Jonathan kept moving when they reached the cross street. Her maid was lagging behind since she wasn’t accustomed to a quick pace, nor was she a young woman any longer.

  Eve politely cleared her throat to gain his attention. “Pardon me, sir, but where are we headed?”

  He swung his head toward her as if startled. “Why, to the museum. Did you forget about my lecture today?”

  “Of course I didn’t, but it is across town. Surely you are not suggesting we go by foot.”

  He stopped short on the walkway, abruptly jerking her back. “Sorry,” he mumbled. He rubbed his fingers over the deep creases between his eyebrows as he regarded her. “You enjoy walking and it is a pleasant day. I thought you would be pleased.”

  Her lips parted, but no sound came out. Was he truly oblivious to Alice’s crimson face and the noisy huffing from trying to keep up? His preoccupation had seemed humorous and quirky before today; now it made her slightly queasy. She glanced at Alice, and his bewildered gaze slowly traveled toward her maid too.

  “Ah,” he uttered. “It is a bit far, I think.” A deep blush flooded his face and her faith in him began to be restored. Perhaps he needed a nudge when it came to thinking of others, but he was not heartless. “We may need to walk a little farther to find a hack. Is that acceptable?”

  She smiled, finding his compromise adequate. “Perhaps we could walk at a more leisurely pace as well.”

  “Agreed.” Jonathan mirrored her smile then launched into happy chatter again. As they neared Piccadilly, they encountered more people out and about. “We should be able to locate a hack to hire ahead,” he said. “Keep a lookout.”

  Eve checked on Alice and caught sight of a man several yards behind her maid. He stopped to pull his watch fob from his pocket as if checking the time, but she noticed his gaze straying toward them. He snapped his watch closed and turned around to walk in the opposite direction.