Ardently |h.s|

eleven

His stormy eyes stay trained on me, and mine on his chest. The feeling of the corset around my torso comes to mind and I want more than anything to rip it off. To find my breath.

"Miss Pembroke is it?" he asks, his voice gruff. He puts his hand out for me to take, his other hand placing firmly on my back, drawing me harshly toward him. Reluctantly, I place one hand in his and the other on his shoulder. We join the rest of the pairs on the dance floor, but the fun atmosphere is gone.

"Now that you're feigning status you think it's proper for you to ignore me, girl?" he spits under his breath, his grip on my hand tightening.

My head is still spinning, and I look over his shoulder, searching for my brother. "Yes, Miss Charlotte Pembroke, cousin of the Viscount Staffordshire. I-"

"Spare me your lies." he cuts me off, sharply. His tone is hushed, but mean.

I press my lips tightly together, my eyes finally finding Liam. He is too wrapped up in his conversation with Penelope to notice this vile man demanding a dance.

"I should tell the ton of your deceptions. How you plan on humiliating these men when they find out you are so below them." He continues his verbal attack, but his words never reach my ears. The harsh grip on me and his breath against my skin is all I can register and I want more than anything to run away.

While he mumbles under his breath different threats of exposing me, I continue to look around the room. My eyes meet the Viscountess' and my heartbeat quickens, praying she will have the Viscount or someone come and excuse me from the rest of this dance. Only she smiles at me, her hand against her chest as she talks to the women around her. Leaving me trapped in a dance with the man who's threatened to ruin me.

What is he even doing here? He doesn't come to these events, that's what the Viscountess said. He's not interested in marrying. Men who are not interested in marrying do not engage in dances, even when they are present at balls.

He couldn't have rudely interrupted my dance with Mr. Tomlinson just to strike fear into me. I'm sure those glimpses I got of those green eyes I refuse to set my gaze upon currently were not just my nerves. They truly were his eyes, watching me throughout the party. If he wanted to threaten me, ruin me even, he had plenty of chances to while I was alone. And yet he waits for me to dance a second time with Mr. Tomlinson.

A wave of confidence hits me as I realize he is not speaking freely for whoever is in range to hear of my lies. Instead he whispers, keeping it our secret. In a way, I hold power right now. For if he acted irrationally intercepting my dance, he is now linked to me, as all eyes watch the heir to the title Duke of Cheshire dance with the unsuspecting servant girl.

"If being in the presence of a mere servant girl is so beneath you then why do you dance with you?" I whisper to him, my eyes finally meeting his.

He's never been this close before. Our faces mere inches apart, his hand holding my body close to his. The only other time we were this near was our first encounter, but it was in no way similar.

His jaw sets as I challenge him, his eyes darkening as if that's possible. "Someone must protect the innocent men from your ruse."

"And how would your reputation hold up to the rumors that a servant was to capture the attention of a future duke, my lord? For, I fear we have become quite a spectacle already." Our gaze upon each other is unwavering as we continue to dance. Harry refuses to give in to my words and glance at the crowd, who are undoubtedly watching the man who seemed to be uninterested in being wed dance with the mysterious new girl from Stafforshire.

The music stops and the dance ends. His hands let go of me, leaving a burning sensation in their wake. I peel my eyes away from him finally, clapping for the musicians before turning to leave, not bothering to thank Lord Styles for his partnership. Only, he has other plans. "Miss Pembroke." he bellows, holding his hands behind his back.