QUOTE : May I see your dance card?”<br /><br />“Don’t you believe me?” She presented it to him with a flourish.<br /><br />He ran his fingers down the list of names.<br />“Hmm . . . Waterburn? Bastard. D’Andre. Definitely a worthless bastard. Lord Camber, a thoroughgoing bastard. Lord Michaelson? Bastard. Peter Cheswick? Bast—”<br /><br />She snatched it from him, laughing.<br />“I wouldn’t dance a waltz with you, anyway, Lord Dryden.”<br /><br />“No?”<br /><br />“You might accidentally lock eyes with Lisbeth Redmond, stumble, and fling me across the room to avoid crushing my feet.