Thoughts raced through her head like gusts of wind racing through an empty field. She couldn't seem to catch a single thought and truly hold on to it.
Caroline continued to meet his hot gaze while she considered one devious way after another to block his unsettling effect on her.
Did he have any idea of how he was affecting her? She certainly hoped not! Her hands trembled, her senses felt flooded, and her thoughts muddled into irrational fragments.
She became increasingly nervous. Worse, she began to worry that she would do something terribly incorrect. If she did, it would be Bradford's fault, she decided. That offered little comfort, she realized, because he would probably be extremely smug over her discomfort. And if she made a complete ninny of herself, he would probably be pleased to know that it was his presence that had caused it all.
Caroline concentrated, schooling her features into what she hoped was a bland and bored expression. She was trying to mimic the looks on most of the ladies' faces in the ballroom, and then found that once she had achieved it, she simply couldn't hold it. She broke into a smile and accepted the fact that, never having really been bored, she couldn't very well pretend that she was. She just didn't know how.
Bradford caught her smile and returned it, surprising himself with the easy show of emotion. He rarely let anything show on his face, and now he was acting like a young buck on his first night out on the town.
Caroline tried to maintain some dignity and nodded acceptance of his smile. When she finally realized that she couldn't outstare him, she started to turn back to the group surrounding her. A mischievous look entered Bradford's eyes, stopping her, and she watched, quite mesmerized, as he slowly lowered his eyelid in a provocative, exaggerated wink.
Caroline shook her head over his flirtatious gesture and tried to look irritated, yet ruined the effect by laughing. Admitting defeat, she quickly turned her back on him, knowing that he had seen her reaction. Feeling much like a silly girl in need of supervision, Caroline took a deep breath and tried to listen to what was being said.
The marquis and the earl were engaged in a rather heated debate over just who Caroline and Charity should be introduced to, and more importantly, by whom. Caroline took the time to draw her cousin aside and whisper into her ear. "They're here, Charity. Over against the wall. No, don't look," she demanded.
"Who's here?" Charity questioned. She squinted and tried to see around Caroline.
"Don't look! You couldn't see them anyway. They're too far away."
"Lynnie, get hold of yourself. Who is here?" Charity let her exasperation show by placing one hand on her hip.
"The man we helped that day we first arrived," Caroline explained, realizing that Charity was right. She did have to get hold of herself. Whatever was the matter with her? She felt as skittish as one of her mares and couldn't for the life of her understand why. "And Bradford, too," Caroline continued. "They're both here."
"Oh, isn't that nice!" Charity smiled with pleasure. "We must say hello."
"No, it isn't nice," Caroline snapped out. "I don't think it's nice at all."
Charity frowned. "Caroline, will you listen to yourself. What is the matter with you? You look almost afraid." Charity seemed awed by her statement. In all the years she had lived with Caroline, she had never seen her afraid.
Charity suddenly felt vastly superior to her levelheaded cousin. Caroline appeared to be rattled, and Charity had to be careful not to gape in amazement.
There was no more time to discuss the topic, as Charity was quickly led away for the next dance set. Viscount Claymere was then bowing before Caroline in a great show of flurry, claiming her immediate attention.
Caroline walked by his side to the middle of the floor, noticing that his hand was sweaty as he clutched her elbow. She decided that the viscount was nervous and tried to help him relax. She gave him a smile and then wished she hadn't been so rash. The poor man tripped over his own feet, and Caroline was forced to grab him by the elbow to keep him standing.
She was careful from then on to keep her expression composed and not look directly at him, for when she turned and curtsied and glanced up at him, he tripped all over again. The music began and Caroline concentrated on the intricate steps required of her, thankful that Caimen had taken the time to show her how to dance. She knew that Bradford was watching her but vowed that she wouldn't look his way. She had decided, as she was being led out to the dance floor, to completely ignore him. He was, she reminded herself for the fiftieth time, too overbearing. He did look like a Spartan, she thought again, all discipline and harsh ridges. And, she decided, she didn't much care for the Sparta civilization after all.
Bradford waited until the dance had ended and then made his move. He nodded toward Caroline when Brummell asked him what had him so transfixed. Brummell turned and, keeping his expression carefully hidden, also watched Caroline.
The dance finally ended and Caroline felt like genuflecting with acute relief. The viscount had stepped on her toes more than once, causing her feet to ache in protest.
Caroline's father joined her before the viscount could do more damage, and the clumsy young man made another great bow before he started to take his leave. He suddenly changed his mind, turned, and grabbed Caroline's hand. Before she could pull it away, he leaned forward and kissed the back of her hand quite loudly.
Caroline remembered not to smile and the viscount, after promising to return, finally took his leave.
"Do not take this as an offense, Father, but the English do tend to be a jittery lot," Caroline said as she watched the viscount hurry away.
"Since you are English, I will not take exception," her father returned with a grin.
Then suddenly he was standing before her, with Brummell at his side. Caroline couldn't very well ignore the pair as they blocked her path and her vision. She was staring into Bradford's chest and finally forced herself to look up.
"We are here for an introduction," Bradford stated in a deep drawl. His words were directed at her father but his eyes remained fixed on her. Caroline noticed, that he was staring at her mouth and she nervously wet her lips with the tip of her tongue.
The Earl of Braxton was pleased. "Of course. Allow me to introduce you to my daughter, Caroline Mary. Caroline, my dear, it is my pleasure to introduce you to the Duke of Bradford and to Mr. George Brummell."
Bradford turned to Brummell and grinned. "After you this time, I believe?"
"Naturally," Brummell replied. He turned his attention to Caroline and smiled. The noise had dimmed and Caroline thought that everyone in the room was trying to hear what was being said. She felt very much like the focal point at a county fair.
"It is indeed a pleasure to meet you," Brummell stated with great formality. He bowed, low enough to brush the floor with the tips of his fingers, and then straightened. "You are from the Colonies?" he inquired as he took her hand and slowly raised it to his lips. Audible gasps could be heard over this affectionate gesture, and Caroline's eyes sparkled with mischief and appreciation. She could feel the warmth of her father's pleasure heating her face. Surely that was the reason for the blush she knew she displayed!
"How very astute of you to know that I am indeed from the Colonies, Mr. Brummell," Caroline returned.
"Please, you must call me Beau. While it has been suggested that I be called by my given name, George, I favor my nickname."
"Your name is truly George?" Caroline asked, trying desperately not to laugh. Why, that was the very name she had suggested when he had wanted to keep his identity secret. Since it was also the name of England's king, she considered that it was a logical coincidence.