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was quite stunning. She barely noticed the ruby stick pin winking in the knot of his white cravat.
    “You expect me to believe you were able to get dressed, travel from Shipley, and look as if you spent all day preparing for this ball in only an hour’s time?” he asked sotto voce .
    Olivia smiled as she kept her attention straight ahead, wondering when either her mother or sister would deign to turn their heads enough to realize the identity of her escort. “Well, it did take two abigails. And hour horses,” she replied, daring a glance in his direction.
    Michael kept his attention on Olivia for perhaps a moment too long. Not a vain girl, this one, he considered, admiring her simple chignon and elegant gown. And her sense of humor. With her cheeks still pink from blushing, Olivia looked like she was about to get married. The thought had Michael nearly stumbling on the stairs. “Be sure to give them my compliments,” he said in a hoarse whisper.
    “The abigails? Or the horses?” Olivia answered with a wink.
    Michael pretended to ignore the wink. Lifting her hand from his arm, he bestowed a kiss on the back of her knuckles. “Do save me a dance,” he said before he bowed and stepped away. Before Olivia could respond, Michael quickly made his way back down the steps along one of the railings. The middle of the stairs were too crowded with other guests.
    Surprised by his hasty departure, Olivia paused at the top of the stairs and dared a quick glance behind her. A sea of feathers and jewelry-adorned heads bobbed about as the other guests made their way up the stairs. She scanned the crowd again, convinced she would be able to identify her brief escort, but Michael’s head was lost at sea.
    “Olivia dear, don’t gawk,” Louisa said as she leaned in Olivia’s direction.
    Smiling, Olivia turned to face her mother. “I won’t, mum,” she replied with a brilliant smile.
    Sure she wouldn’t be dancing much that evening, Olivia attempted to take her place among the young matrons and old ladies whose husbands were otherwise engaged in the card room. But a steady stream of young men saw to it she danced nearly every dance before eleven o’clock. It was during a quadrille when she spotted a smiling Eloisa paired with Michael. Even though Michael appeared bored to tears, the sight of her sister with their recent house guest left her with a sour feeling. He hadn’t yet claimed his dance with her, and it was already nearing midnight. Perhaps the man doesn’t like dancing , she thought, a sadness settling in to sullen her mood. So it was a bit of a surprise when Michael was suddenly at her elbow.
    “I thought you were going to save one for me,” he whispered, his lips so close to her ear she felt his warm breath wash over her neck. Something inside shivered, the sensation leaving a pleasant tickle in its wake.
    “I did. I saved this one for you,” she countered with a mischievous grin. The strains of a waltz were just beginning, though; she knew she wouldn’t be allowed to dance a waltz. Apparently Michael was unaware of the rule, however. Olivia was quite surprised when Michael suddenly bowed and then took one of her hands in his. His other hand went to her waist, and before she could protest, he had pulled her to the edge of the dance floor and was swirling her about in time to the three-count music. “But, I’m not allowed,” she said with a quick shake of her head, amazed at how easily he had them moving through the steps. Her own feet must have been moving, but having never taken a lesson in how to do the waltz, she had no idea how her partner managed to keep them both moving so smoothly.
    “Oh?” Michael replied with a cocked eyebrow. “Hm.” He moved them through another complete circle before pulling her off the floor and to the sidelines near a table filled with glasses of champagne. “Are you allowed champagne?” he wondered, lifting a glass from the table and offering it to her.
    Olivia nodded.