“Of course.” She forced a welcoming expression and followed his lead onto the dance floor. The music picked up the pace, and she started the steps. Thankfully, he hadn’t requested a waltz; the reel offered little time for conversation and even less time for touching, which was a boon. As she circled and came back to the line, she peeked over to where Morgan and Miss Bronson were lined up. Miss Bronson’s expression brightened the room, and Joan thought that perhaps Morgan was enjoying himself more than he’d expected, if his face were any indication.
Her attention shifted back to her partner as she continued in the dance.
When it ended, Lord Blackwood escorted her back to the edge of the ballroom. “May I offer you something to drink, Lady Joan?” he asked.
Morgan and Miss Bronson came to stand beside her. “No, I thank you, Lord Blackwood, but my brother already had promised to procure me some lemonade.”
“Very well. Until later, Lady Joan.” He bowed and took his leave, but not before Joan caught sight of his gaze as it raked over her body from head to toe in a quick assessment.
A shudder ran through her.
“He won’t be welcome in our home, Joan.” Morgan’s soft voice was silk over steel. “Not with that certain lack of manners. I didn’t miss that last look.”
Joan released a pent-up breath. “Thank you,” she murmured.
“And this is why we are in the ladies’ society and want reform,” Miss Bronson whispered for Joan’s ear’s only. “So we are not subject to such men.”
“I’ll return shortly with the lemonade I somehow promised without my knowledge,” Morgan said to Joan. “Would you like some as well, Miss Bronson?”
“Indeed.” Miss Bronson was quick to accept.
“I’ll be back directly.” Morgan disappeared in the crowd, leaving Joan with Miss Bronson.
“After we get our lemonade, we should take a turn about the room and see if we can gather a few more dance invitations,” Miss Bronson plotted, her eyes slightly narrowed as if concentrating.
“A good plan. And much more fun to execute when not doing it alone or with one’s big brother tagging along.”
“I, for one, wouldn’t mind if your big brother tagged along, but I can understand how it might hinder you,” Miss Bronson said cheekily. “So, we may have to abandon him.”
“Abandon whom?” Morgan asked as he offered each a glass of lemonade.
Joan took a sip of the cool refreshment and bit back a laugh at Miss Bronson’s wicked expression.
“You, my lord,” she quipped before she took a sip of lemonade.
Morgan paused and blinked twice. “Pardon?”
Miss Bronson angled her head and studied him with a teasing glint in her eyes. “If we are to collect a few more names for our dance cards, we need to abandon you.”
“And here I thought I was an asset rather than a liability.” He narrowed his eyes playfully at Miss Bronson.
Was he flirting? Joan watched him. She’d never seen her brother flirt. She was certain he knew how, of course, but…knowing and actually witnessing were two separate things.
“To some you are an asset and to others a liability, and I must defer to my friend’s judgment here, so I’ll bid you adieu.” Miss Bronson locked arms with Joan, smiling cheerfully.
Joan hitched a shoulder. “She’s right, and since it is the season and this is the goal…”
“Very well. I’d hate to be a hindrance to the progress of women, especially on the marriage mart.” He raised his glass as if toasting them. “I’ll be over here, in case you change your mind and decide you require my presence.”
“Understood,” Miss Bronson replied, nearly saluting with her words.
Joan all but rolled her eyes, and Miss Bronson pulled her away. When Joan looked back to her brother, she noticed that he wasn’t watching her, but was curiously watching Miss Bronson’s retreat.
Which she found excessively intriguing.
And interesting.
Fascinating enough, actually, that it distracted her from her own feelings of interest in the very person she wished had attended.