mother could be proud.
“Presenting Lord Stumble-About of Falldown Hill and Lady Caroline Helena Lucille Tyndall, daughter of the Eighth Earl of Strickland and her Ladyship, the Countess of Strickland.”
In mid-giggle, Kitty’s breath caught. How did he learn my whole name? And did it truly matter? The way it had rolled off his tongue… his Scot accent slightly deepened as it often did when his emotions led him… She forced herself to take a deep, even breath but nothing she did steadied the staccato rhythm of her heart.
Hugh canted his head sideways, both eyebrows raised in challenge.
Affecting as majestic a manner as possible in the midst of her tumultuous emotions, Kitty curled her arm outward, placing it into the “elbow” of her nonexistent escort. She raised her foot and took a step.
And stumbled forward when the heel of her boot landed too close to the edge of the stone.
Before Kitty’s cry of alarm even left her throat, Hugh closed his arms around her waist and drew her up tight against him. How on earth had he managed to close the distance of several paces that had lain between them?
As his familiar earthy scent enveloped her, Kitty sighed and slid her arms upward, twining them about his neck. With a sigh, she rested her forehead against his shoulder and waited for her racing heart to calm.
The heat ebbed from her face, and Kitty leaned back, meeting Hugh’s concerned gaze with a smile of gratitude. “Kind sir, you seem to be in the habit of coming to my rescue. Perhaps you should follow me around to save me from my own stumbling feet.”
His answering grin flashed widely. “A task I would happily undertake, m’lady.”
Kitty’s knees weakened, and heat invaded her cheeks again. His eyes sparked with an intensity that held her captive. Goodness, why had it suddenly become impossible to breathe?
Abruptly, Hugh cleared his throat and stepped back. After a heartbeat’s hesitation, he averted his gaze to the right.
Cool air swirled around Kitty with his sudden departure from her proximity, and she shivered but refrained from wrapping her arms around her middle. She pushed her lips into what she hoped was a smile. “Perhaps I am not ready to make a grand entrance after all.”
Hugh stiffened and squared his shoulders. “Nonsense. ‘Tis only a matter of practice.” He turned back to her and offered his arm. “That and perhaps ye need the correct escort.”
As she placed her hand in the crook of Hugh’s elbow, a tingle of awareness buzzed from the tips of Kitty’s fingers, spreading upward and then inward, settling into her middle like a hive of busy bees.
* * * *
They spent perhaps an hour parading about the stone terrace. Hugh tried and failed to determine why Lady Caroline referred to herself as clumsy and awkward.
“Ye caught yer foot on the edge of a stone is all,” he argued. The look of sheer distress on her face made him want to reach out and smooth away the fine lines marring her forehead. He stepped back a pace. Best he remember he did not have that right. “Ye won’t have to negotiate uneven slabs of rock while ye’re entering the ball.
“‘Tis more than that,” she said, shaking her head as she sank onto the stone bench with the grace of a petal drifting to the ground. “I get… anxious. I worry about falling and then my feet begin to feel as if they are made out of stone.”
Hugh’s lips worked into a smile he didn’t bother to hide. “Well, if ye have heavy feet, that ought to keep ye from being upended, I should think.”
The lady’s face colored up into a pretty pink. He’d never look at a wild pink rose again without thinking of Lady Caroline and her delicate blushes. Once again, he tore his gaze off her. “How are ye at the dancing?” Stepping back, he cast a critical glance downward, where he could just make out the toes of her half-boots.
The tint of her rosy cheeks deepened. “I managed to avoid stomping on any feet at my parents’ last dinner
“Presenting Lord Stumble-About of Falldown Hill and Lady Caroline Helena Lucille Tyndall, daughter of the Eighth Earl of Strickland and her Ladyship, the Countess of Strickland.”
In mid-giggle, Kitty’s breath caught. How did he learn my whole name? And did it truly matter? The way it had rolled off his tongue… his Scot accent slightly deepened as it often did when his emotions led him… She forced herself to take a deep, even breath but nothing she did steadied the staccato rhythm of her heart.
Hugh canted his head sideways, both eyebrows raised in challenge.
Affecting as majestic a manner as possible in the midst of her tumultuous emotions, Kitty curled her arm outward, placing it into the “elbow” of her nonexistent escort. She raised her foot and took a step.
And stumbled forward when the heel of her boot landed too close to the edge of the stone.
Before Kitty’s cry of alarm even left her throat, Hugh closed his arms around her waist and drew her up tight against him. How on earth had he managed to close the distance of several paces that had lain between them?
As his familiar earthy scent enveloped her, Kitty sighed and slid her arms upward, twining them about his neck. With a sigh, she rested her forehead against his shoulder and waited for her racing heart to calm.
The heat ebbed from her face, and Kitty leaned back, meeting Hugh’s concerned gaze with a smile of gratitude. “Kind sir, you seem to be in the habit of coming to my rescue. Perhaps you should follow me around to save me from my own stumbling feet.”
His answering grin flashed widely. “A task I would happily undertake, m’lady.”
Kitty’s knees weakened, and heat invaded her cheeks again. His eyes sparked with an intensity that held her captive. Goodness, why had it suddenly become impossible to breathe?
Abruptly, Hugh cleared his throat and stepped back. After a heartbeat’s hesitation, he averted his gaze to the right.
Cool air swirled around Kitty with his sudden departure from her proximity, and she shivered but refrained from wrapping her arms around her middle. She pushed her lips into what she hoped was a smile. “Perhaps I am not ready to make a grand entrance after all.”
Hugh stiffened and squared his shoulders. “Nonsense. ‘Tis only a matter of practice.” He turned back to her and offered his arm. “That and perhaps ye need the correct escort.”
As she placed her hand in the crook of Hugh’s elbow, a tingle of awareness buzzed from the tips of Kitty’s fingers, spreading upward and then inward, settling into her middle like a hive of busy bees.
* * * *
They spent perhaps an hour parading about the stone terrace. Hugh tried and failed to determine why Lady Caroline referred to herself as clumsy and awkward.
“Ye caught yer foot on the edge of a stone is all,” he argued. The look of sheer distress on her face made him want to reach out and smooth away the fine lines marring her forehead. He stepped back a pace. Best he remember he did not have that right. “Ye won’t have to negotiate uneven slabs of rock while ye’re entering the ball.
“‘Tis more than that,” she said, shaking her head as she sank onto the stone bench with the grace of a petal drifting to the ground. “I get… anxious. I worry about falling and then my feet begin to feel as if they are made out of stone.”
Hugh’s lips worked into a smile he didn’t bother to hide. “Well, if ye have heavy feet, that ought to keep ye from being upended, I should think.”
The lady’s face colored up into a pretty pink. He’d never look at a wild pink rose again without thinking of Lady Caroline and her delicate blushes. Once again, he tore his gaze off her. “How are ye at the dancing?” Stepping back, he cast a critical glance downward, where he could just make out the toes of her half-boots.
The tint of her rosy cheeks deepened. “I managed to avoid stomping on any feet at my parents’ last dinner
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