Glad to have something to do other than try not to stare at the main entrance, Victoria agreed and actually found herself beginning to enjoy the lively movement of the quadrille. She and Sir Everett stepped together, then apart, then promenaded down between a row of other couples. Victoria twirled and swirled, curtsied and spun, and realized after a while that she was smiling.
There was only one moment during the dance when she forgot herself, and that was when she and Sir Everett did one particularly enthusiastic spin, linked elbow to elbow. Victoria forgot that she was much stronger than he, and sent her dance partner stumbling across the floor with the force of her movement.
It was when he returned and they linked arms again, this time side by side, that she looked up and laughed in pure pleasure, then executed a turn that sent her facing the cluster of people standing on the edge of the floor. And whirled right past Phillip.
Victoria didn't even stumble. She wasn't sure how she managed that, but she was thankful beyond belief. When the dance ended, Sir Everett looked down at her and asked, "Shall we find Rockley? I'm certain he will want to claim the next dance."
"Oh, I had rather hoped for something to drink," Victoria replied airily, firmly facing in the direction away from where she'd seen Phillip. "I'm not certain whether Rockley has even arrived tonight."
Sir Everett bowed in acquiescence, and if he knew she was lying, he was too gentlemanly to correct her. "Of course, Miss Grantworth. Let us find some punch."
Victoria managed to keep herself very busy for the next thirty minutes. She danced with three other gentlemen, including Gwendolyn's brother, who was just as blond and pretty as his sister. She drank at least six glasses of punch, thankfully, for with all the exertion of dancing on such a hot evening, she was thirsty. And because of those six glasses of punch, she was obligated to visit the necessary twice.
But at last she could avoid the confrontation no longer.
Just as she was turning to walk onto the dance floor with Lord Waverley, a calm voice stopped her in her tracks.
"Waverley, I believe this dance is mine."
She turned, her throat suddenly dry when she tried to swallow. "Rockley." She tried to sound delighted but failed miserably.
Lud, but he looked… handsome, defeated, irritated, tired… familiar. Comfortable. His eyes might be a bit heavier-lidded, the blue in them might be a little colder, his mouth might be thinner. But he was still Phillip. And he was holding out a bent arm for her to take.
She took it, sliding her green-gloved hand around it in a gentle grip. They walked away from Waverley without another word to him or to each other.
It was a waltz. Of course.
He spun her perhaps a bit too quickly, too abruptly, into the waltz position, square in the center of the room, as if to be sure everyone saw them. And they began to dance.
Victoria kept her attention focused over his shoulder; she was afraid to meet his eyes. The irony of the situation didn't fail to amuse her, somewhere deep inside where she couldn't laugh: She had no qualms about facing two, three, even eight deadly vampires… but to look in the eyes of the man she loved took more courage than she had at that time.
After two full turns about the dance floor, he said, "It might be nice if you looked at me, Victoria. Perhaps even smiled a bit. People will begin to talk."
She obliged by looking up, but could not form much of a smile.
"You look very beautiful tonight," he told her, holding her eyes for a moment even as he executed a perfect maneuver around a couple who were out of time with the music. "It's no wonder you had no shortage of dance partners."
One… two—three; one… two—three… There was nothing between them but the count of the music and the sense of unfinished business.
"I expected you to cut me. Why did you ask me to dance?"
His eyebrows rose and his eyelids lifted. "In the eyes of Society you are still my fiancee, Victoria. I was not about to let you waltz with someone else."
"Then why do we not put an end to what Society thinks, Phillip? There is no sense in prolonging it. You will be free to court whomever you like, and I'll be free to do what I like."
Her unanswered question hung between them until the dance ended. Phillip released her hand and shifted the arm that had been around her waist to allow her to grip his elbow again, then led her off the floor. "Would you care for some fresh air? You look a bit flushed."
She was flushed, and—heaven forbid!—perspiring from all of the activity. "Yes, that would be lovely." She dug out her fan, snapped it open, and began to wave it in hopes of drying the gentle moisture on her bosom.
They paused near the edge of the dance floor to obtain two small glasses of iced tea, or what had been iced tea until the heat turned it lukewarm. Sipping the sweet drink, Victoria allowed Phillip to escort her through the doorless entrances hung with vines of clematis to keep the flies out but let the fresh air in. He brushed aside the leafy, flowering strands and she stepped out into the welcome air.
Instead of stopping on the terrace where the potted gardenias and roses added scent and color to the evening, Phillip drew her along with him past the end of the brick terrace and down one of the four paths that spiked from it.
As his healthy stride slowed to a stroll and he remained silent, Victoria could hold back no longer. "Why have you not posted the announcement in the Times?"
"I have been wondering the same thing about you."
"But… thank you. That's very kind of you to help me save face. But it's no matter to me."
They had walked quite far from the party, and Victoria was just about to speak again when they rounded a bend in the pea-gravel path and came upon a small arbor. A stone bench sat under the archway, and more clematis and climbing roses were tangled in it.
Victoria thought Phillip meant for her to sit when he slid his arm from her grip, but as she moved toward the bench, he pulled her back—and into his arms.
He kissed her… oh, he kissed her. She recognized there the same emotion she'd felt upon seeing him again: familiarity, comfort, and something new… need. It told her all she needed to know.
After a long interval, in which she found her fingers loosening the hair clubbed at the nape of his neck and her belly pulled up against his, Phillip pulled back and looked down at her. "I have missed you. I meant to stay away and let you do what you would tonight, for I have no further claim to you, but in the end, I could not. And it wasn't because of what Society thinks. It was because of what I wanted."