A Flirtatious Rendezvous: The Gentlemen Next Door #4 - Historical Regency Romance Novellas (4 page)

“What do twins have to do with mathematics?”

“No, see, the numbers are twins.” He pushed a paper toward her so it settled over her lap. “Three and five, five and seven. These are all prime numbers that are separated by one number. And it seems that as numbers become larger and larger, these twin primes still exist.”

“Do you think they make baby numbers?” she asked playfully.

“Your imagination is frightening.”

“Ah, but do you think of it now that I’ve questioned it?” she asked with a grin.

“The actual question is…can they exist forever? No matter how large the numbers become, will the twin prime numbers continue?”

“God made them, and if He made them in pairs, he would continue them as such,” Hanna said, shamelessly squirming a little closer. In his distraction, he allowed it.

“Unfortunately, the Mathematical Society would reject such a simply worded proof. And if they did accept it, it would beg the question, if one could prove God did create the twin primes, why would one also assume they continued?”

“Because He wouldn’t want them to be lonely. He never intends us to be lonely.”

Hayden glanced up at her, his eyes questioning before they shaded over with frustration. “You can’t mean that to stand as proof of whether the numbers can exist forever.”

“But of course I do—of course they can!”

“There is no
of course—
either it can be proved or it cannot.”

“That seems silly. Whether you prove it or not will not change whether it is true.”

His mouth dropped open, and Hanna noted it was the first time she had rendered him speechless. His expression transformed into a grin, one that lit up his eyes.

“That may be the most intelligent thing you’ve ever said.”

“Oh, quick, write it down.” She tapped the paper on her lap and transferred it back to his. “Quickly, before it’s forgotten.”

He chuckled, but obliged her, taking a pencil from his pocket and scribbling down her words. She couldn’t for the life of her figure out why they were intelligent. Some things were just obvious.

Chapter Three

Hanna wished she could slow down time. Especially the limited amount of time she was to have with Hayden. If he and his mother had their way, she’d be married off by month’s end.

“Oh, exquisite!” Lady Landale clasped her hands as she studied Hanna from head to toe. Hanna wore a rose satin dress with slim sleeves and a high waist that made her feel like the long stem of a champagne flute. “And your hair!”

Her mousy brown hair had been pulled tight into an elegant bun and twined with the green ribbon that Hayden had mentioned in passing reminded him of her eyes. She now owned enough spools to circle London a dozen times.

She hardly recognized herself in the looking glass. She seemed a soap bubble—and just as easily shattered. If one hair came out of place, one lace undone, the illusion would be over.

“Thank you,” Hanna said as Lady Landale took her hands. “Your kindness has been priceless.”

“Nonsense.” Lady Landale rubbed her wrist against her cheek quickly and cleared her throat. “Now, do you remember what we taught you?”

Hanna nodded dutifully and recited the words she had repeated to herself dozens and dozens of times. “Inquire after their health and wellbeing. Accept an offer for a drink, but also inquire after their thirst. Ask after their…”

Lady Landale nodded encouragingly.

“Ask after their…” She could have sworn she’d heard the lesson a million times, but by the time she reached this point, there was always something more interesting afoot.

“Their interests,” Lady Landale prodded.

“Ah yes,” Hanna said. “Ask after their interests and compliment them, only once, very discreetly. Manage my own opinions. Particularly if they are contrary.” Essentially the opposite of everything she had ever done with Hayden. If she had been so well behaved from the beginning, would she have caught his interest?

It was too late for speculation, unfortunately, as he was aware of her true nature.

“That was wonderfully recited, dear. Let’s be on our way to put it in practice! They’ll make the announcement for you soon.”

The long walk down the curved staircase to the glittering ballroom was the first moment that time seemed to slow for Hanna the way she’d wanted it to all week.

With every step, it was as if she could relive a memory from the days before. The dance lessons with Lady Rivington acting as the man, all giggles, especially as Hayden refused to cooperate against his own interests. The dresses, and even more dresses, which Hanna protested given the cost and her own three serviceable gowns. But Lady Landale insisted.

Best of all, the simple, quiet moments. Breakfast with Hayden, where she was able to coax him into explaining why the sunrise changed colors or how he knew by the kind of cloud whether it meant rain. City walks where they argued over whether a phaeton or a carriage would be faster and then she realized she thought he’d said
fashionable
, not
faster
, and he’d sighed in exasperation at it all. She dreaded dinner, because it meant he would soon retire to his study and slave over his mathematics and she would have to wait until sunrise to see him again.

She would miss those moments and wanted to savor them, each and every single one. Even tonight’s ball wouldn’t hold a candle to a simple minute with him.

As her name was announced, the crowd of revelers turned to watch her descent down the stairs. She held the rail for support, scanning the room, where her rose-pink dress was sure to stand out in a sea of darker, richer reds and browns. Lady Rivington had neglected, purposely she imagined, to invite a single other debutante.

She caught appreciative glances from men and women alike, but she was scanning for Hayden and did not acknowledge them. Unfortunately, she couldn’t find him.

Lady Rivington greeted her and Lady Landale at the bottom of the steps. “Introductions are in order,” she said with a gleeful grin. “I have more than enough speculations set aside.”

Hanna forced herself to stand still as gentleman after gentleman was introduced. They were pleasant. Some even spectacular-looking. Many were nice and oh, so sweet. And none were Hayden.

“Is your dance card free for the next cotillion?” asked the gentleman with curls in his hair and lace at his wrists.

She struggled to remember his name, although she had been told it a moment before. Viscount Mon…Viscount…Viscount Montcreif!

“Of course, my lord,” she said on a curtsy. He took her hand and led her out to the dance floor and she tried to focus on his pleasing smile and nice manners.

But instead, she was forced into epic bouts of concentration as she went through each of the ever-changing figures and patterns. First stepping right onto the ball of her right foot. She winced—she forgot to draw her hands over her head. She hopped to land on her left foot and extended right, but this time forgot her plié.

She glanced up at Viscount Montcreif but this meant losing her place so she turned the wrong way and bumped into a poor, flustered man who discreetly gestured for her to spin to her left—she could have sworn she’d learned it the other way.

As much as she didn’t want to marry anyone who wasn’t Hayden, she certainly didn’t want to be a humiliated ape-leader with no proposals, either.

She glanced down at her dance card, which contained a half dozen more names. This was going to be a long evening.

* * *

Hayden cringed as he watched Hanna trample yet another unsuspecting fool’s toes. To the credit of her partners, not a one had begged off, despite seeing what was ahead for them. Brave souls.

He couldn’t bring himself to dance even one dance with the most accomplished lady at this event, despite more than one hint that had been dropped. He didn’t see the point. Dancing was a courtship, and he courted no one.

When his father returned, he could finally move into his bachelor’s residence and dedicate his life to the London Mathematical Society. While he understood marriage’s purpose for society and the propagation of the species, he knew he would be better suited to remaining single, no matter what his mother wanted.

As if conjured from his thoughts, his mother rested a hand on his shoulder, the other at her heart, as she walked up next to him. “Doesn’t she look lovely?”

“How she looks doesn’t appear to be the issue. Lady Rivington’s dance lessons are showing abysmal results.”

“Well,” his mother said with a sigh, “you do know that learning new skills is not Hanna’s strong suit.”

“For once I don’t believe Hanna is the one to blame. Her lack of concentration is more academic than related to motor skills. I have seen her ride, after all.” He studied the countess. “I see your intention now, Mother.”

“What nonsense are you spewing now?”

“Your matchmaking eye has never been subtle when it comes to me or my brothers. You’ve decided to sabotage Hanna’s chances at a proposal, thereby thinking to force my hand. It won’t work.”

She slapped his shoulder. “I’m appalled you would think I’d jeopardize Hanna’s chances for future happiness and a family.”

“Chance for happiness?” Hayden snorted. “You’ve turned Hanna into a mindless parrot. Her conversational skills seem mostly to consist of repeating whatever her partner says and complimenting him on his cleverness.”

“Quite the hypocrite, aren’t we? I’m teaching Hanna to make her future husband feel intelligent and interesting—the same way she makes you feel.”

“Hanna’s admiration of me is completely genuine,” he reasoned. “And not without its criticisms.”

Hayden watched Hanna teeter. In a moment she would take a spill on the floor. He had taken half a step forward, fists clenched, when her partner righted her. Her partner was more quick-footed than he imagined. He looked familiar, actually—he was certain this was his second dance.

He squinted—yes, it was Viscount Montcreif. He’d been the first to dance with Hanna and enough time had passed where a second dance would be both respectable and a declaration that he was interested…although Hayden couldn’t imagine why he would declare such intentions. Hanna had trampled on his feet and no doubt bored him to tears with her conversation lessons.

“Worried you have competition for her affections?” his mother asked, oh-so-innocently.

“I’m more concerned she will break her foot dancing. It won’t do much for our wager if she is in a cast for my week,” he said.

“Fair point. Ah, see how she is so grateful and flustered? Viscount Montcreif’s is one proposal I am sure to have in hand. And to your point about admiration, rest assured she’ll grow to admire him, and until then, she’s giving him encouragement.”

“But what of his admiration for her? He’ll be utterly oblivious to her true nature, which is far more interesting than what you’ve portrayed.”

“Then he’ll be getting a bargain, won’t he?”

Hayden bit down. He was certain there was now a tic pulsing in his jaw.

“If you think you can do better, you have an entire week to do so,” she said, and strolled away.

He was annoyed that he’d let himself be goaded by his mother. He had less sense than he should when it came to his family, and almost none when it came to her. She had denied that she was deliberately sabotaging Hanna’s efforts at making a match, but he couldn’t believe Hanna was this terrible a dancer—that Lady Rivington had allowed her on the floor unless she meant sabotage.

He supposed there was one way to find out.

He crossed the floor quickly. Hanna’s green eyes widened in shock but he didn’t give her an opportunity to react.

“You’re free for the quadrille,” he said, taking her hand. But they’d gone no more than two steps when the strings switched their bows and a waltz was struck. He spared a glance at the conductor, where sure enough, his mother was at work begging favors.

Hanna glanced down at her card, likely confused by the change in music. She was too innocent for her own good sometimes.

“Did Lady Rivington teach you a waltz?” he asked.

“No,” she said, panicked. “Lady Landale said there would be no closed-position dances. We covered minuet and quadrille and—”

“I’ll teach you now,” he said. If she picked up the steps quickly, he would at least confirm his mother and Lady Rivington’s sabotage.

Ignoring her squeak of protest, he spun Hanna into his arms.

* * *

She was daydreaming again. That must be it. She’d been dancing with Viscount Montcreif—a nice enough fellow with fair hair and a pleasing smile—when she’d finally caught sight of Hayden leaning against the fireplace. She’d imagined him striding purposefully toward her and gathering her into a waltz—so much so that she’d tripped and the poor Viscount had to right her—and here she was, back in the fantasy—Hayden’s hand behind her shoulder blade, hers at his shoulder, with their other hands clasped.

She needed to pinch herself so she’d wake up and not hurt poor Montcreif again.

“Ow—what was that for?” he asked.

“Pardon?” It was still Hayden holding her close. Not close enough, unfortunately, as he maintained a respectable gap between them. Perhaps she should allow herself the fantasy a little longer.

“You pinched my hand.”

“Are we dancing?” she asked, confused.

“I know you aren’t this daft.” He narrowed his eyes. “Are you?”

This was real.

She was dancing a waltz with Hayden Banks, in his arms, touching his shoulder. She’d never wanted time to slow more in her life.

She had friends who had fallen in love and they always spoke of their rapidly beating hearts—as swift as a hummingbird’s wings. But this was not Hanna’s experience—even now. Her heartbeat seemed to slow so that with each pump the contraction held longer, louder, the time and space between beats stretching.

“Miss Morton.” He gave her a shake.

“We’re dancing,” she said finally on a sigh and a smile.

The corners of his lips curled. “There’s the girl I know.”

He led her into the steps and unlike her other dances, she followed with ease. Probably because she had spent her entire life following Hayden. When he stepped back, she followed forward. When his palm tightened on her waist, she knew instinctively to turn.