Eleanor glanced at Montagu’s lean, aristocratic profile. He seemed to be thinking about something. He had scowled at all the younger gentlemen who had approached them to ask her for a set. Did he even know what he was doing? She had surprised herself when she had touched him. Yet it felt right, like the natural thing to do. The feelings she experienced when he touched her were becoming deeper. It was still a jolt when he’d put his hands on her waist and lifted her. Would she ever stop feeling that way?

“Are you ready to leave or do you want to make another circuit?”

Eleanor looked around. The Park was packed. The only people who could move around at all were on horseback. “It is so busy here, I will miss dinner if we remain, and I still have letters to write.”

He glanced at her, startled. “I do as well. How could I have forgotten so soon?”

Eleanor kept a straight face. Had the gentlemen bothered him even more than she had originally thought? “You probably were not thinking of it. You would have remembered.” But she was correct. She would be rushed to make dinner on time. Madeline was out here in the mess as well. Eleanor looked around. She couldn’t even see her sister. There certainly would not be time to write letters. “Would you like to join us for dinner? Grace always says it is easy to add another place setting.”

“I would.” A smile slowly grew on Montagu’s lips, and she was fixated by them. Once again, she wanted to find out what it would feel like if he kissed her. “We could write the missives after dinner.”

“Yes indeed. It would be the perfect time.” He looked down at himself. “I will not be able to change.”

“We do not dress in full evening gowns. I’m sure a footman can be sent to your house for your clothing. Remember, the children will be there.” Sometimes Eleanor wished they would wear evening dress at dinner. On the other hand, when they were invited to someone’s house she decided dressing in silk and jewels every evening would be tedious. If they dined later, it might be different.

“If you are sure?” Montagu still appeared concerned.

“I am. You will see.”

They finally made it to the gate and drove back to Worthington House. He brought the carriage to a halt, jumped down, and before a footman could reach them, his hands were burning through her carriage gown. His hands slid a little higher as he lifted her to the ground, sending frissons coursing through her breasts. Did he know what an effect he had on her? She had been trying so hard to hide her reactions to him.