“To continue,” she said, brooking no interruption, “when you ask a young lady to dance . . . More specifically, a young lady who is not known for dancing, others will wish to know why. They will wonder if you have seen something in her that they have not. And even if they look more closely and still find nothing of interest, they will not wish to be thought ignorant. So they will ask her to dance, too.”

He didn’t say anything right away, so she added, “I suppose you think me cynical.”

“Oh, without a doubt. But that’s not necessarily a bad thing.”

She turned toward him in surprise. “I beg your pardon?”

“I think we should conduct a scientific experiment,” he announced.

“An experiment,” she repeated. What on earth was he about?

“Since you have observed my fellow gentlemen as if we were specimens in a rather grandly decorated laboratory, I propose that we make the experiment more formal.” He looked to her for reply, but she was speechless, utterly speechless.

“After all,” he continued, “science requires the gathering and noting of data, does it not?”

“I suppose,” she said suspiciously.

“I shall lead you back toward the dancing. No one will approach you here in the chaperones’ chairs. They’ll suppose you injured. Or ill.”

“Really?” Iris drew back in surprise. Maybe that was part of the reason she was not often asked to dance.

“Well, it’s what I’ve always thought, at any rate. Why else would a young lady be over here?” He glanced in her direction, causing Iris to wonder if perhaps his question had not been hypothetical, but the moment she opened her mouth, he continued with: “I shall lead you back, and leave you be. We shall see how many men ask you to dance.”

“Don’t be silly.”

“And you,” he continued, as if she had not said a word, “must be honest with me. You must tell me truthfully if you are engaged for more dances than usual.”

“I promise to tell the truth,” Iris said, stifling a laugh. He had such a way about him, of saying the silliest thing as if it were of grave importance. She could almost believe this was all in the pursuit of science.

He stood and held out his hand. “My lady?”

Iris set down her empty lemonade glass and stood.

“I trust you are no longer suffering the effects of light-headedness,” he murmured as he led her across the ballroom.

“I believe I shall manage for the rest of the evening.”

“Good.” He bowed. “Until tomorrow, then.”

“Tomorrow?”

“We are walking, are we not? You did grant me permission to call on you. I thought we might stroll about town if the weather cooperates.”

“And if it doesn’t?” she asked, feeling just a bit saucy.

“Then we shall discuss books. Perhaps”—his head dipped closer to hers—“something your sister has not read?”