having turned down ballroom events in the past, pursued as he was by any woman desiring a title. Every bone in his body affirmed Keira Foley wouldn’t have cared if he was a shop keeper or a janitor. She could be with any man she chose, and she’d chosen him.
The waltz finally ended, they finished their part of it with a flourishing turn. The crowd applauded loudly for several minutes, even as he led her from the floor to his grandmother’s table.
The orchestra stuck up a much more modern tune. The evening’s entertainment was fully commencing.
They reached his grandmother’s table, graciously accepting congratulations on their waltzing prowess. Keira’s response in that respect was important. Nonchalance and kindness on her part led him to believe she hadn’t cared that he’d more or less commandeered her for the dance. After all, he’d had to do it with someone . What she didn’t know was that he’d planned for that first dance with her alone .
“May we be seated?” he formally asked, as he stood waiting for Grandmother’s permission to join her. In all things, his beloved Immy was to be respected—protocol always observed.
“Of course you may both sit. And bravo! Well done,” his grandmother complimented yet again. Then she gracefully lifted one hand to indicate Keira should take the seat to her right.
As custom dictated, Dillon took the seat to Immy’s immediate left, nearest her heart.
“Keira…isn’t it? May I call you by your first name?” Immy asked.
Keira bowed her head in approval.
“Keira, I insist you must call me Immy . The real version of my name is so very pretentious. Besides, the abbreviation reminds me of such good times long ago. It’s a moniker originating with this huge grandson of mine,” she explained as she briefly lifted one hand and put it against Dillon’s cheek. “As well as having the most adorable lisp when he first began to speak, he was totally incapable of rendering even a remote version of Immeldeline. Can you imagine what a mouthful it was for a little child?”
“He had a lisp?” Keira queried as she suppressed a grin.
“Oh my dear, you should have heard him. He was utterly charming in every way. From the day he was born I simply adored him. Of course, I love all my grandchildren but this one was as cute as a bug’s ear! Why, as a toddler, he ran around the estate removing every stitch of clothing, only tolerating the presence of a small helmet his father gave him. Everyone loved him and they still do.”
Dillon plastered on a pretend frown. “Immy…how am I to impress a woman while you reveal my darkest secrets?”
“So…it’s as I suspected. You are trying to impress her.” Immy stretched out one be-ringed hand and placed it over one of his. “Good for you.”
Dillon cast a long, pointed gaze in Keira’s direction but said nothing else. To her credit, Keira didn’t look away. She stared back and something deep in her bright blue eyes made every bit of gossip they’d go through worth any indiscretion. For some strange reason, he suddenly imagined his own children running through the garden, shouting and playing as he had. And one of those offspring his brain conjured was a little girl with bright blue eyes and long, reddish-brown curls. She’d be a little scrapper and have no trouble confronting her bigger siblings with great majesty and pomp.
Immy turned her attention on Keira. “My lovely girl, win him if you can. There’s no one I’d rather see him make a life with than an Earth woman. But whatever else you may do, assert your independence now. I did with his grandfather. It made all the difference in the world. Mythrealian males revere free-thinking women.”
Dillon held his tongue. Whatever teasing Grandmother engaged, Keira’s absolute tolerance of it, and the gentle, unflustered smile she displayed, was worth any embarrassment. Everyone who’d ever heard of Immeldeline Greenleaf knew her to be outspoken. But then so was
The waltz finally ended, they finished their part of it with a flourishing turn. The crowd applauded loudly for several minutes, even as he led her from the floor to his grandmother’s table.
The orchestra stuck up a much more modern tune. The evening’s entertainment was fully commencing.
They reached his grandmother’s table, graciously accepting congratulations on their waltzing prowess. Keira’s response in that respect was important. Nonchalance and kindness on her part led him to believe she hadn’t cared that he’d more or less commandeered her for the dance. After all, he’d had to do it with someone . What she didn’t know was that he’d planned for that first dance with her alone .
“May we be seated?” he formally asked, as he stood waiting for Grandmother’s permission to join her. In all things, his beloved Immy was to be respected—protocol always observed.
“Of course you may both sit. And bravo! Well done,” his grandmother complimented yet again. Then she gracefully lifted one hand to indicate Keira should take the seat to her right.
As custom dictated, Dillon took the seat to Immy’s immediate left, nearest her heart.
“Keira…isn’t it? May I call you by your first name?” Immy asked.
Keira bowed her head in approval.
“Keira, I insist you must call me Immy . The real version of my name is so very pretentious. Besides, the abbreviation reminds me of such good times long ago. It’s a moniker originating with this huge grandson of mine,” she explained as she briefly lifted one hand and put it against Dillon’s cheek. “As well as having the most adorable lisp when he first began to speak, he was totally incapable of rendering even a remote version of Immeldeline. Can you imagine what a mouthful it was for a little child?”
“He had a lisp?” Keira queried as she suppressed a grin.
“Oh my dear, you should have heard him. He was utterly charming in every way. From the day he was born I simply adored him. Of course, I love all my grandchildren but this one was as cute as a bug’s ear! Why, as a toddler, he ran around the estate removing every stitch of clothing, only tolerating the presence of a small helmet his father gave him. Everyone loved him and they still do.”
Dillon plastered on a pretend frown. “Immy…how am I to impress a woman while you reveal my darkest secrets?”
“So…it’s as I suspected. You are trying to impress her.” Immy stretched out one be-ringed hand and placed it over one of his. “Good for you.”
Dillon cast a long, pointed gaze in Keira’s direction but said nothing else. To her credit, Keira didn’t look away. She stared back and something deep in her bright blue eyes made every bit of gossip they’d go through worth any indiscretion. For some strange reason, he suddenly imagined his own children running through the garden, shouting and playing as he had. And one of those offspring his brain conjured was a little girl with bright blue eyes and long, reddish-brown curls. She’d be a little scrapper and have no trouble confronting her bigger siblings with great majesty and pomp.
Immy turned her attention on Keira. “My lovely girl, win him if you can. There’s no one I’d rather see him make a life with than an Earth woman. But whatever else you may do, assert your independence now. I did with his grandfather. It made all the difference in the world. Mythrealian males revere free-thinking women.”
Dillon held his tongue. Whatever teasing Grandmother engaged, Keira’s absolute tolerance of it, and the gentle, unflustered smile she displayed, was worth any embarrassment. Everyone who’d ever heard of Immeldeline Greenleaf knew her to be outspoken. But then so was
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