He returned her grin with the most beautiful smile she'd ever seen. “I don't know, but when you decide, perhaps you can inform me,” Edwina said with a smile. “No.” Why was he so concerned about her relationship with Marcus? “Is he your guardian, then?” Sir Wallace asked. She honestly didn't care where he led her-to the refreshment table, the little row of chairs along the back wall, or even Gretna Green-she was game to go anywhere with him at that moment. “He did,” Edwina confirmed, taking his proffered arm. When he introduced us, I thought he said something about a sister.” Olivia, Marcus' younger sister, was the vilest creature she'd ever had the misfortune to meet. If it were anyone else suggesting she was Marcus' sister, she'd be insulted. “Lord Sinclair?” Why would he take her back to Marcus? And why did it look as if his handsome face really had just turned to stone?Įdwina's eyes widened. At least he wasn't looking at her as if she were a simpleton. The pleasure was mine? What was she saying? Since when had she taken after her brother Alex who said the first thing that came into his head, no matter how ridiculous it sounded? She chanced a glance at Sir Wallace, and breathed a sigh of relief.

“It was a pleasure,” Sir Wallace Benedict, her dancing partner, said as soon as the last note of the waltz ended. This was it, the final seconds of the most glorious waltz she'd ever danced. The musicians' instruments grew louder, indicating the climax of the waltz. Tonight she was held captive by a chiseled face that had a square jaw, high cheekbones, pale red lips, a slim nose, arching brows, and long, black lashes that surrounded a pair of the most beautiful gold-flecked, brown eyes she'd ever seen. Normally, Edwina dismissed physical appearances altogether, but not tonight. And there wasn't even a particle of a chance her dry, stinging eyes were going to blink and cheat her from the feast they were drinking in for as much as a fraction of a second. There, no more than six inches from her face, was the most handsome face she'd ever set eyes on. Her brain was far too distracted by the handsome image in front of her to function well enough to command her body to move.

She was barely aware of the movements of her own body as her feet moved to the steps of a waltz on their own accord. Edwina Banks was certain she would have fallen to the floor in a boneless heap if not for the strong arm half wrapped around her midsection.

Her Imperfect Groom by Rose Gordon