Lydia drew back and turned toward him. “Pardon me? I’m not quite sure what you mean. Or, actually I think I do know what you mean and I want to know why you think you have the right to suggest anything about my apparel?”
Dante ran his finger along the inside of his neckcloth. “I just think if we are to work on an assignment, it might go better if your mode of dress was a little bit more. . .”
She narrowed her eyes. “More what?”
“Subdued.” He took her arm again and they continued. “We need to be inconspicuous so we can listen to the Ambassador’s conversations. With the attention you are getting, we won’t be able to get near him.”
“And I suppose all the ladies dropping everything, including themselves at your feet does not garner attention?”
Dante picked up two glasses of warm lemonade and handed one to Lydia, who studied it so long before taking it that he was sure she was about to dump it on his head.
“The Ambassador is interested in you.”
“I know.”
“I’m not sure if you understand what I mean. He is interested in a certain way.”
“Oh for heaven’s sake, Dante. Out with it. He wants to bed me.”
He should have known better than to attempt to speak with Lydia in anything but explicit terms. “Yes. That is precisely what I meant. The entire time we were in his company his eyes never rose above your neckline.”
“Neither did Mr. Berger’s.” Lydia tossed her head. “I refuse to worry about men who cannot keep their eyes where they belong. And furthermore, there is nothing at all immodest about this gown. In fact, I think it looks quite nice.”
Dante downed the rest of his lemonade. “It looks much more than nice,” he growled. With a smirk, he added, “Um, your brain that is.”
Just then the orchestra started up the first waltz of the evening. Dante took the glass from Lydia’s hand and placed it on the table. “My dance, I believe, Miss
Sanford?”
Damn, he hated how good she felt in his arms. Warm, soft, with an intriguing scent wafting from her hair. He wanted to glance down to admire what all the rest of the men had been gaping at, but he was quite certain he would get a dressing down after the comments about the Ambassador and Mr. Berger.
No surprise to him, she was light on her feet, followed him flawlessly, and it felt as though they’d danced together for years. He attempted a few twists and turns and she followed perfectly. Even though he hadn’t spent time at ton events, there was nothing wrong with his dancing skills.
He pulled her in close for a turn and felt her intake of breath. He studied her face and realized she was having thoughts similar to his. Dangerous territory here for him.
“You’re holding me too tight.” Lydia attempted to push back, but he didn’t allow it.
“Crowded dancefloor,” he mumbled.
He looked over her head and saw the Ambassador and another man leave the ballroom through the French doors. He maneuvered them past three other couples, swung her around and opened the French doors at the same time.
“What? What are you doing?”
He took her arm in his and leaned close to her ear. “The Ambassador just left through this door with another man.”
Dante looked over the balustrade. The two men were strolling the pathway but did not seem to be talking. He moved Lydia in the same direction. “Come.”
They walked quickly and quietly. The two men stopped and sat on a stone bench. Dante pulled Lydia along another pathway that seemed to wind directly behind where they sat.
They ended up close enough to hear their exchange. They were speaking, but in a foreign language. Lydia held her finger up to her lips and moved closer. She leaned in and listened, her brows furrowed in concentration. After a few minutes, she backed, up shook her head and moved to return the way they came.
Once they had returned to the main path, she said, “They were speaking German. But it was nothing of importance. All they seemed to be discussing were food and parties. The Ambassador was comparing events he’d attended in Germany to those here in England.”
“That seems to be an odd subject for two men to be talking about, alone, outside a ballroom.”
Lydia shrugged. “Perhaps the Ambassador is lonely. It appeared the man with him had just arrived from Germany and was recently assigned to the Embassy here in London. You know how difficult it can be to have any sort of a conversation in a crowded ballroom.”
They walked a bit farther until they arrived at a small pergola. They climbed the two steps and settled on a wooden bench. Lydia took in a deep breath, drawing his attention once more to her breasts. “It’s so peaceful out here. As much as I enjoy balls and other events, I do try to take a break from the festivities and stroll in the gardens when I can.”