They were ushered into a chamber that Caithren thought looked out of a fairytale, where the ball was in full swing. Illuminated by hundreds of candles in chandeliers overhead, masses of glittering guests danced, ate, and conversed. The ballroom’s glass-paned doors opened onto a vast garden that Cait was shocked to find in the middle of crowded London.
“Ah, Lady Haversham.” Lady Carson snagged a pale, elfin woman by the arm. “May I present a guest of Lord Cainewood’s, Lady Caithren. From Scotland,” she added in a conspiratorial voice, as though that fact alone should be of significant interest.
“I’m glad of your acquaintance,” Cait said again with a little curtsy. “I’m wondering if you’ve seen my brother, Adam—”
“If you’ll excuse us,” Jason interjected smoothly, “I’ve someone I need to see. Ladies.” He nodded politely, took Caithren’s arm, and dragged her all the way back to the entry hall, which was all but deserted now that the most-anticipated guests—Jason and Caithren, apparently—had arrived.
Pulling her into the shadows behind a large column, he gathered her into his arms. Before she could voice a protest, his mouth came down on hers, and anything she might have said was smothered by his lips.
Caithren’s heart raced as she kissed him back with wild abandon. He truly was a different person tonight, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to know why.
She’d rather just enjoy it for now.
When he finally drew back, she stared at him, dumbfounded. Her knees felt like pudding, but his strong arms held her up when she would have slumped against the tapestried wall. “I’ve been wanting to do that all evening,” he said.
“Oh, aye?” She blinked at him, confused. “You had ample opportunity in your carriage on the way across town. The traffic was slower than Wat Gothard.”
He grinned at the quip. “I had other things on my mind.” His fingers traced her jaw, then he tapped the little black heart on her cheek and leaned to kiss her forehead. “Come, let’s dance.”
As quickly as he’d dragged her away from the ballroom, he pulled her back in. The musicians were playing a sedate tune, the melody accompanied by scrapes and taps of dancers’ shoes and the soft swish of ladies’ gowns as they traversed the polished-wood floor in an elegant configuration.
Caithren licked her lips and cast a worried glance at Jason. “I-I cannot dance.”
He smiled down at her, prodding her closer to the dance floor with a hand at her back. “I seem to remember you dancing with the Gypsies quite beautifully.”
“But not like this!” she exclaimed, tripping over the blasted high heels.
He caught her. “It’s a simple pattern. I’ll give you two minutes to watch. Two,” he warned with mock severity.
The music was eight beats, and the dancers balanced on their toes. Short gliding steps, a change of balance, a pause every third and seventh beat. Cait thought she had it figured out—until suddenly the women ran around the men and they all did a little hop.
“I cannot tell what they’re doing,” she complained. Just then the dancers bowed and curtsied. “Anyway, it’s over,” she said with more than a little relief.
“Ah, but there will be another.”
Following some discordant re-tuning, the musicians launched into a country dance, not so different from those Cait was used to at her village dances in Leslie. “This one I can do,” she declared and let Jason swirl her into the crowd.
All her reservations melted away. It was bliss being in his arms, and it didn’t even seem to bother him in front of all society.
Though the dance was energetic, she couldn’t keep her eyes from his clean-shaven face. “You don’t look like Ford.”
“Ford?” They crossed arms and switched sides. “You have the most disconcerting habit of starting a conversation midstream. Where did that come from?”
“Lady Carson. She said you look like your brother.”
“Ah.” He twirled her around. “She referred to my other brother, Colin. And yes, I expect with my hair cut and without my mustache, we do look somewhat alike. Green eyes and black hair. He’s always kept his shorter. Prefers convenience over fashion, in all things.”
“I like him already.” The music came to a close, and she curtsied. “What other siblings are you hiding?”
“Only a sister-in-law. Colin is married.” He led her from the dance floor. “Her name is Amethyst, but we call her Amy.”
“The woman who gave you the watch.”
“That’s right.” Another country dance followed the first, and he swept her back out and into the double line, leaving her with the women while he stood across from her with the men. “Amy used to be a jeweler. Or rather, she still is a jeweler, but without a shop. Colin is building her a workshop at Greystone, their home.”
“Greystone,” she murmured, clapping her hands and then touching them to the women’s on either side of her. She remembered him chuckling at seeing that name on an inn. “Your brother married a commoner?”
Coming closer, he smiled down at her. “We Chases don’t play by the rules.”
“I’ve noticed.” The dance separated them for a moment before they came back together. “You certainly don’t play backgammon by the rules.”
“I’m not a cheater. If I’m ahead five matches, that’s only proof of my skill.”
“Ha!” Linking arms, they skipped in a circle. “You distracted me with your bare chest. That is hardly playing fair.”
She was getting breathless by the time a portly gentleman tapped Jason on the shoulder. “May I claim the pleasure?” he asked.
Jason didn’t look very happy. But he pulled Caithren from the dance and introduced her to the man, a Lord Berkeley.
“It’s glad I am to make your acquaintance,” Cait said. “And by any chance, have you seen my bro—”
“Beg pardon,” Jason interrupted. “We must be off.” And he propelled her back to the entry and the shadow of the post.
“Wait.” With two hands on his chest, she stopped him leaning in to kiss her again. “Why don’t you want me to ask after my brother?”
“I only want to steal a moment with
