Free The Secret Mistress by Mary Balogh

him.
    Their very first touch.
    There was a sigh of something from the spectators, and the orchestra ceased its tuning.
    Angeline’s stomach felt as though it was suddenly inhabited by a whole swarm of fluttering butterflies. Of nervousness? Of excitement? Both?
    He led her to a spot close to the orchestra dais and left her there while he took his place a short distance away.
    It was the signal for other couples to come and join them, to form the long lines of dancers for the first set, the ladies on one side, the gentlemen on the other.
    Angeline gazed across at Lord Heyward, and he looked steadily back.
    He was neatly, fashionably dressed. But there was no excess—no high shirt points threatening to pierce his eyeballs, no creaking corsets, no profusion of fobs and chains, no elaborately embroidered waistcoat, no haircut with its own name, like a Brutus, for example.
    And no smile.
    Meeting her, dancing with her,
was
serious business to him, then.
    He was not a frivolous man.
    He was probably the polar opposite of Tresham. And of Ferdinand. And her father. All of whom she loved, or had loved, to distraction. But none of them would ever be her husband. Neither would any man remotely like them. She had
some
sense of self-preservation.
    She was going to marry someone like the Earl of Heyward.
    No, correction.
    She was going to marry the Earl of Heyward.
    He might not know it yet, but he would.
    They were a little too far apart to converse comfortably. And she did not wish to shout inanities across at him, though several couples beyond them were doing just that.
    He held his peace too.
    And then the orchestra played a decisive chord and the chatter died. The butterflies in her stomach did not, but fluttered to renewed life. She curtsied in the line of ladies. He bowed in the line of gentlemen. And the music began and they were off, performing the intricate steps of a lively country dance. Before she knew it, Angeline found that it was their turn—they were the lead couple, after all—to twirl down the set between the lines of clapping dancers.
    The butterflies had disappeared without a trace.
    She was so happy she thought she might well burst.
    But awareness returned soon enough. And with it came a realization that first amazed her and then touched her.
    Lord Heyward danced with careful precision and rather woodengrace. Actually, the grace was quite minimal. Even nonexistent. His timing was a little off, as though he waited to see what everyone else was doing before he did it himself. And occasionally there was a definite hesitation.
    The poor man could not dance. Or rather, he
could
, but dancing was not something that came naturally to him or gave him any enjoyment whatsoever. His face was blank of expression, but there was a certain tension behind the blankness, and Angeline guessed that he was concentrating hard upon not disgracing himself.
    And yet as the lead couple they were the ones most on display to the many guests who were not themselves dancing but were only watching—and storing tidbits of gossip to share in tomorrow’s drawing rooms.
    Oh, poor Lord Heyward. He was not enjoying himself at all.
    This was
not
the way to begin their … Their
what
? Relationship? Courtship? Happily-ever-after?
    It was not the way to begin it, anyway, whatever it was.
    The first dance of the set came to an end, and there was a brief pause before the second began. As soon as it did, Angeline realized that the rhythm was even faster than it had been before. Lord Heyward looked like a man who had been climbing the steps to the gallows until now but had suddenly emerged onto the flat platform and the trapdoor and noose itself.
    There was really nothing else she could do, Angeline decided, except what she proceeded to do.
    She turned her ankle and stumbled awkwardly.

Chapter 5

    A NGELINE HAD ALWAYS been impulsive. She had always had a tendency to act before she thought, usually with less than desirable results. Her governesses had