Page 20 of So Wild A Heart

“I have scarcely had a chance to chat with Lady Westhampton,” Miranda lied, making an attempt to get out of the invitation.

But Rachel was too quick for her. “Oh, heavens, don’t consider me, Miss Upshaw. I have been neglecting my guests, I have so enjoyed speaking with you. Go ahead and dance with Dev. I can assure you, whatever his other faults, he is a divine dancer. You and I will have a chance to talk again later.”

“Of course.” Miranda could do nothing now, with everyone watching them, except to give in gracefully.

She took the arm he proffered and walked with him out onto the dance floor. They turned to face each other, and he took her hand in his, slipping the other lightly around her waist. She looked up at him, her heart beating faster than she would have liked. The man was undeniably handsome.

He swung her onto the floor as the first notes of the waltz began, and for the next few moments they did not speak, only moved with the music, concentrating on adjusting their steps to each other. It was easy to dance with him, Miranda found. He was, as his sister had said, an excellent dancer—moving gracefully and leading her with the slightest of guidance, not shoving and jerking one about as some men were prone to do. After they had settled into the rhythm of the dance, Devin smiled down at her a trifle ironically.

“Well, quite a transformation, I must say.”

“Not so much so—if one bothers to look beneath the surface of things.”

“Ah, a direct hit, Miss Upshaw. You have me there. I was careless the other day.”

“You were rude,” Miranda corrected him crisply. “Arrogant and rude and thoroughly dislikable.”

“Yes. I confess I was all that. And after you had come to my rescue the night before. It was very boorish of me.”

His ready admission of his lack of manners took Miranda by surprise. She had expected him to argue, or deny her statement—or perhaps simply ignore it. She was unprepared for him to agree with her. It left her, she found, with little to say.

He smiled at her expression. “You see, at least I am honest. You can give me credit for that.”

“That counts for something, I suppose…. A very small something.”

“At least I have something to build on, then. Perhaps I can make up for my lack of manners the other day.”

“I am not sure if that is possible. One would always know, you see, that your polished manners were merely a facade, and behind them lay the same fellow who behaved so badly.”

“No excuse will do, then? No apology suffice? Is there to be no allowance for improving oneself?”

“Improving oneself is a good thing, as long as it is real.”

“You obviously doubt my ability to do so…or my veracity.”

“I do not really know you well enough to say, Lord Ravenscar. The situations in which I have seen you…”

“I know. I have not appeared at my best.” A grin quirked one corner of his mouth. “Although there are many who would say that I have no best.”

“Indeed? So far you are not making a very good case for yourself.”

“No, I am not, am I? I think that it must be you, Miss Upshaw. I am usually much more glib. You leave me tongue-tied.”

“Indeed? I am amazed that I have such power over you. Especially given that you are the sixth Earl of Ravenscar, and I am just a provincial nobody who scarcely knows who her grandfather was.” She smiled up sweetly at him.

Ravenscar let out a groan. “You aren’t going to let me forget that, are you?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Let me make my apologies, Miss Upshaw.”

“All right.” She looked up at him expectantly. “Go ahead. Make them.”

Her words seemed to fluster him. He glanced away, saying, “Well, ah…”

Miranda suspected that apologizing was something the man rarely did. “Yes?”

“I apologize,” he said finally, and looked back down at her. “I should not have acted the way I did or said the things I did. I have no excuse, except…frankly, I was angry, and I am afraid that I took it out on you.”