First Draft

Nora was having such a wonderful time; she didn't want the night to end. Such was her delight; she forgot all her worries, even being recognized as Lady Eleanor Crampton-the Duke of Kesteven's missing daughter. She had eaten her full, danced, played the piano, and danced more. Lady Margaret had kept a close eye on her movements, and Nora appreciated the countess. Although a female in her dotage, Nora felt exceptionally safe with Lady Margaret near.

The only discontentment of the night was Lord Vinge, the Earl of Blakley. Nora was ashamed to admit she barely noticed him until the end of the night. However, she could tell Lady Margaret was upset over something and that something was her son, Gerald. As the night wore on and her feet began to hurt, Nora realized she hadn't seen hide nor hair of the earl in quite some time. She was also a bit put out with him. Nora assumed he would at least ask her to dance. She felt they had bonded recently, but perhaps she was wrong.

When she asked of him, his mother shook her head, clucking her tongue before discreetly tilting her head near the back of the room. The Earl of Blakley stood a few paces away from half a dozen wallflowers with his hands behind his back, his face impassive. Nevertheless, Nora could tell he was masking some form of displeasure.

"He looks properly miserable," Nora said, hands on her hips as she watched the grumpy-looking earl.

"Oh, yes," Lady Margaret agreed, nodding her head in affirmation. "A real misery guts for sure."

"Well, I shall go find out what ails him," Nora announced and promptly made her way through the small crowd toward him.

"You will find out one day, child. I do hope 'tis not too late," Lady Margaret whispered to Nora's retreating form.

***

The Earl of Blakley felt like an utter fool and a jealous one at that. As he stood a few feet from the shy, overlooked wallflowers, he cursed Lymington, the bloody Duke of Hayward, under his breath. The pompous blackguard has his choice of women. All he has to do is crook his finger or give them a look. Why Nora?

Although ashamed of his behavior, Gerald honestly couldn't help it. He could not shake off his dark mood. He toyed with the idea of seeking out the most beautiful girl in the room and asking for a dance. However, Nora was the most beautiful girl in the room, and she hadn't spared him a single glance. Yet, that shouldn't have stopped him from asking one of the many other beauties or Nora regardless of her apparent fondness for Lord Lymington. As an eligible, wealthy earl, he could have his pick just like Lymington, yet he wanted only Nora.

The hour was growing late, and Nora-the object of his ire and desire-was approaching him. As she grew closer, he noticed a strange gleam in her eye and her purposeful stride. He swallowed hard and felt like his heart was suddenly lodged in his throat. All night he longed to be near her, speak to her, dance with her, but watching her flirt with Lymington caused him to do the unthinkable: nothing. Actually, he did worse than nothing; he hid like a coward along the back wall with the blue stockings and wallflowers.

Nevertheless, now was his chance. Nora was almost upon him, and Gerald hoped he wouldn't muck up his final opportunity. Forget your fear and, most importantly, your bloody wounded pride. I must fight for her. He mentally prepared himself and plastered on a smile as her familiar scent teased his nostrils.

"My lord," Nora said and curtsied. She stood erect, arms crossed, head tilted with narrowed eyes. "I've been wondering about you all night."

"Have you now," he said and realized how smug he sounded. He mentally chastised himself. His blasted pride was rearing its ugly head, yet he could not contain it. Ask her to dance, foolish man.

With a slight smile and lift of her delicate brow, Nora answered, "As a matter of fact, I have and am quite vexed with you."

The earl of Blakley was taken aback by Nora's tone and forwardness. She was vexed with him! Gerald was not only angry but also thoroughly confused. I shall never understand these beautiful and mysterious creatures. "What, pray tell, have I done to offend you so, Miss Sharpe? Fore, I shall make amends without delay."

"'Tis very simple, my lord." She smiled up at him, and his heart began to race. "Come out of hiding and dance with me. I have been waiting all night for you to seek me out for a dance." She pulled out her dance card from the small silk reticule attached to her wrist and handed it to him along with a small pencil. "See." Nora pointed to one empty spot at the bottom. "I saved it just for you, but I broke countless hearts in doing so." She winked and giggled at her jest.

In doing so, Nora had no idea the impact she had on Gerald. His heart soared, and he thought that mayhap, he still had a chance. However, he doubted tonight was the night to profess his love as planned. No, not tonight, yet Nora renewed his hope.

His musings were interrupted as the sound of music hit his ears. A waltz, Gerald thought and smiled at the idea of holding Nora close. "Shall we?" he asked and held out his arm.

"T'would be my pleasure, Gerald." Nora had whispered his Christian name, and a rush of feeling spread throughout his body. Holding her as close as propriety would allow, Gerald relished in the moment and the feel of Nora in his arms.

They didn't speak during the intimate dance, but the earl's thoughts said enough for both of them, and a new plan was firmly settling in his mind. I will shower her with affection and meaningful gifts. I will woo her like no one else, winning her love in return. When I prove I am the only one for her, Nora will not even remember the duke's bloody name.

***

Yes!!! Now you're thinking with your heart and brain, Gerald. Having too much pride gets these men in trouble every single time. I hope you all enjoy this little chapter and are rooting for the Earl of Blakley. If so, please remember to hit the vote button and comment. I love hearing from you all. Peace and Love,

Lady Lisa