It was the smaller, improvised dances where he would need to take care.

Provided she actually consented to dance with him. Elinor was exactly the spirited type that would refuse him on a principle, and even on a whim. She had no qualms about throwing the polite practices of Society to the wind and thought nothing of the consequences. She knew precisely what she was doing at any given time and saw no need to be anything less than herself.

She would not have been as easily persuaded into behavior that others would frown upon or do anything that would make her family ashamed. She was far too strong to be turned in such a way, to be swayed as he had been.

Elinor Asheley was made from sterner stuff than Hugh Sterling, and that was the truth.

In a shocking turn of events, he would be forced to admit that he did not deserve her.

Not that he had her, or had plans for such, or anything of the sort, but if it should ever come up, he did not deserve her, and he knew it.

What a revelation!

Hugh exhaled with some difficulty, feeling he might need to ponder on the subject a bit more in private in order to truly comprehend the change.

This woman hated him. Had raged against him. Would have damned him to hell, had she the power to do so.

Yet she hadn’t flinched at seeing him in at least thirty hours. She had not sneered after his outbursts that first night, and, aside from her antics during his time as a snowman, she’d really not been up to any mischief where he had been concerned.

He didn’t count her throwing mistletoe at him. He’d actually found that rather charming.

Amazingly enough.

He smiled at the memory, and continued down the stairs, rounding the balustrade and heading for the breakfast room.

The Asheleys, he had learned, were rather relaxed when it came to breakfast. Most of the ladies took trays, but a few were intrepid enough to venture down to partake with the men.

Elinor was among them.

She met his eyes as he entered and immediately smiled just a touch as she brought her tea to her lips.

Hugh let himself watch her do so, fascinated by the play of her lips, and how full they were. He’d never paid much attention to lips, really, but something about Elinor’s when they smiled was perfection.

She widened her eyes at him, and he jerked, wrenching his gaze away and striding for the open seat at the far end of the table. Quickly filling his plate, he focused on the task of enjoying the meal without doing anything to draw comment or give anyone insight into his thoughts.

“Hungry, Mr. Sterling?”

Hugh bit back a groan, but carefully dabbed the corner of his mouth with the linen serviette, looking up at the woman he had unwittingly sat beside.

Elizabeth Asheley.

The spit of her eldest sister with the fire of her elder sister, and he had yet to determine where her good sense lay along the paradigm of young ladies.