“I apologize if they became aggressive. I hope it doesn’t ruin your evening.”
“Of course, not,” she murmurs and glances over at Dayton.
“It’s time for the final dance of the evening,” Belinda signals her husband.
“A Waltz,” Dayton replies from behind Sebastian. “I believe I reserve that right.”
“Of course, Dayton.” Savannah curtseys and accepts the arm Dayton offers.
“Good evening, Mr. Medill,” Dayton says and guides Savannah onto the floor.
Finally, Savannah is in the arms of the only man she cares about. “I don’t think my feet shall ever recover from tonight,” she teases softly.
Dayton whirls with her, following the steps in his mind and ignoring the way she fits him so perfectly. Her scent enveloped him, and his body betrays him by craving her.
“I’m sure. You’ve been quite busy,” Dayton quips.
Savannah stares at him, surprised at the anger she feels coming off him in waves. “Have I offended you in some way?”
“I’m fine, Miss Ward, but perhaps you’d do well to remember that you have a reputation to think about. While your flitting about with the elite and planning your future people are talking. Pictures are being taken. I suggest you consider your family.” Dayton glares down at her and sees the moment his words impact her heart.
“I’ve done nothing wrong, Mr. Patrick,” Savannah replies softly.
“Not yet. See that you don’t,” Dayton is relieved when the song ends, and he escorts her to the dining room.
The next few hours pass in a whirl of food, wine, and questions. Savannah hides her pain when Dayton switches seats with Sebastian. She decides to enjoy the atmosphere and smiles when Sebastian questions her about her family’s business. Time and again, Savannah turns the conversation back to Dayton’s Race track and Survivor.
When the meal is finally over, Savannah glances around for Dayton and finds him in a corner teasing a tall, elegant blonde. Hurt flickers behind her eyes, but she tamps it down. Idiot! She thinks. Her eyes narrow, and she tucks her hands under the table to hide the trembling fists.
Sebastian offers to escort her back to the lady’s parlor, and she flicks her eyes towards Dayton, hoping he will see the position he’s leaving her in.
“Thank you, but I’m sure Dayton will be here shortly.”
Sebastian frowns at her in obvious concern. He glances around the room, and his eyes widen in surprise at her escorts obvious flirtations. “It would seem that he’s forgotten his duty to you. If you’ll excuse me.” He bows and heads to the corner. In a matter of moments, he has stolen Dayton’s date.
Savannah stands and stares at Dayton who quickly walks to her side and offers his arm. Silently, he walks her back to the lady’s parlor and leaves without a word.
Glancing around, Savannah decides it’s time for her to take her leave.
“Belinda, would you mind if Maxwell escorted me back to the elevator? Dayton is occupied.”
“Are you sure, Savannah? There will be fireworks,” she says.
“I’m sure. My mission is complete.”
Belinda looks at her and nods. “Of course, wait here,” she stomps away, muttering in French.
Savannah leaves the parlor, seeking a moment of quiet away from the chattering, giggling, and hateful glances of Mothers trying to find a match for their daughters.
“Miss Ward?” Sebastian calls to her, and she tamps back her sigh of frustration. He’s a first-class clinger. She almost giggles at the thought. Too much wine, Savannah, she tells herself.
“Mr. Medill,” Savannah curtsies again.
“Call me, Sebastian.”
Savanna twitches in surprise. He doesn’t wait for his words to sink in. “May I escort you outside to watch the fireworks?” he offers.
“Thank you, but I’m retiring for the evening.” Maxwell is making his way through the crowd towards her.
“That’s too bad, I’d hoped to get to know you better,” he says softly.
Savannah looks up at him in surprise. “That’s kind of you, Mr. Medill, but I’m returning home tomorrow. I need to rest before my journey, it was lovely meeting you.”
“I see,” he frowns and glances away in embarrassment. “Perhaps we will meet again. At the race in a few weeks?”
“It’s possible. My brother Glenn will have a horse in the race,” she smiles.
“Excellent, then I will have to make a trip to Kentucky. Any insider tips on who to bet on?” he asks as Maxwell walks up to them.
“Always bet on a Patrick, they don’t like to lose,” Savannah quips.
His smile fades a bit, and he bows and takes his leave. Savannah watches him go and wonders why she couldn’t be attracted to a man like that. Not a hot head, stubborn buffoon, like Dayton Patrick.
Maxwell escorts her from the room to the elevator. Later, after she’s stripped from the gown, she watches the fireworks from her suite with a glass of wine. When the first tear slips free, she wonders why she’s crying.
Tonight, was supposed to be about thanking Dayton for helping her, and somehow, she messed up. It’s a terrible feeling to think he’s ashamed of her. Anger follows that thought. “I did nothing wrong.”
Dayton’s image flits in her mind, his smile, his kiss, the way her heart pounds when he gets close to her. “I can swear that I don’t love him, but I won’t lie to myself,” she sobs and drops her face into her hands. This is going nowhere. “I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with him!”
“It’s time to go home, Savannah.”
Chapter 41
Dayton is watching the fireworks with a giggling vaporous, blonde. He watched Maxwell escort Savannah to the elevator. It’s for the best,
Dayton tells himself. But in his heart, he knows it’s for his best, not hers. He smiles at the blonde who squeals in delight at the fireworks, and he wishes Savannah was by his side.
After
