“Aaaaah-aaaaaaaaah,” he sang out, and she had to laugh. He sounded like a bad opera singer, or one of those jesters at a Punch-and-Judy show.
“You should do that more often,” he said. “Laugh, I mean.”
“I know.” But that sounded sad, and she didn’t want to be sad, so she added, “I don’t often get to torture grown men, though.”
“Really?” he murmured. “I would think you do it all the time.”
She looked at him.
“When you walk into a room,” he said softly, “the air changes.”
Her hand went still, hovering an inch or so above his skin. She looked at his face—she couldn’t help herself—and she saw the desire in his eyes. He wanted her. He wanted her to lean forward and touch her lips to his. It would be so easy; she need only to sway. She could tell herself she hadn’t meant to do it. She’d lost her balance, that was all.
But she knew better. This wasn’t her moment. And it wasn’t her world. He was an earl, and she was . . . Well, she was who she’d made herself to be, and that was someone who did not consort with earls, especially those with pasts wreathed with scandal.
A bucketload of attention was about to rain down on him, and Anne wanted to be nowhere near him when that happened.
“I really do have to leave now,” she told him.
“To go where?”
“Home.” And then, because it seemed she ought to say something more, she added, “I’m quite tired. It has been a very long day.”
“I will escort you,” he told her.
“That is not necessary.”
He glanced up at her and pushed back against the wall, wincing as he rose to his feet. “How do you intend to convey yourself?”
Was this an inquisition? “I will walk.”
“To Pleinsworth House?”
“It is not far.”
He scowled at her. “It is too far for a lady unescorted.”
“I’m a governess.”
This seemed to amuse him. “A governess is not a lady?”
She let out an unconcealed sigh of frustration. “I will be perfectly safe,” she assured him. “It is well lit the entire way back. There will probably be carriages lining the entire route.”
“And yet that does not ease my mind.”
Oh, but he was stubborn. “It was an honor to meet you,” she said firmly. “I am sure that your family is most eager to see you again.”
His hand closed over her wrist. “I cannot allow you to walk home unescorted.”
Anne’s lips parted. His skin was warm, and now hers was hot where he touched her. Something strange and vaguely familiar bubbled within her, and with a prickle of shock she realized it was excitement.
“Surely you understand,” he murmured, and she almost gave in. She wanted to; the girl she used to be desperately wanted to, and it had been so long since she’d opened her heart wide enough to let that girl out.
“You can’t go anywhere looking as you do,” she said. It was true. He looked like he’d escaped from prison. Or possibly hell.
He shrugged. “The better to go unrecognized.”
“My lord . . .”
“Daniel,” he corrected.
Her eyes widened with shock. “What?”
“My name is Daniel.”
“I know. But I’m not going to use it.”
“Well, that’s a pity. Still, it was worth a try. Come now . . .” He held out his arm, which she did not take. “Shall we be off?”
“I’m not going with you.”
He smiled rakishly. Even with one side of his mouth swollen and red, he looked like a devil. “Does that mean you’re staying with me?”
“You’ve been hit in the head,” she said. “It’s the only explanation.”
He laughed at that, then avoided it entirely. “Have you a coat?”
“Yes, but I left it in the rehearsal room. I— Don’t try to change the subject!”
“Hmmm?”
“I am leaving,” she stated, holding up a hand. “You are staying.”
But he blocked her. His arm came out in a stiff, horizontal line, his hand connecting flat with the wall. “I might not have made myself clear,” he said, and in that moment she realized that she had underestimated him. Happy-go-lucky he might be, but that was not all that he was, and right now, he was deadly serious. His voice low and fixed, he said, “There are a few things about which I will not compromise. The safety of a lady is one of them.”