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figuratively.

Eight
Vingt-et-un
    Rather than escorting her to the ballroom as she’d expected, Philip steered Lady Messingham toward the French doors leading outside.
    â€œI thought we were dancing.”
    â€œDancing is the least of my talents,” he replied, propelling her onto the open terrace. “You looked in need of rescue and ’twas the best excuse I could muster.”
    â€œIt’s lovely out here.” She inhaled deeply of the cool night air, taking in the cascading fountain that shimmered in moonlight enhanced by a hundred lit torches.
    Oblivious to his surrounds, and in no mood for pleasantries, Philip demanded, “What are you doing here? Didn’t I warn you about the company of places like this? Its habitués are nothing more than rogues and harlots.”
    His harsh words transformed her warm smile of gratitude into ice. “Think what you will, but the particular company I keep is only the highest. I was with the Prince of Wales, for goodness’ sake! Moreover, what right have you to demand an account of my actions? I am free to do as I wish. And with whomever I please.”
    â€œIndeed, and you looked none too pleased with the choice you had made only a moment ago,” Philip replied testily. “Their conduct leaves much to be desired. Prince or not, the man is a vulgar buffoon, and his preferred companions can only claim gentility by virtue of rank. You despise the lot of them as much as I do. God save us if Freddie ever does obtain the crown.”
    Acknowledging the truth of his claim, she dropped her defense. “I am thankful for the rescue, Philip. I admit their decorum diminished markedly with every bottle passed and every glass poured. I was, in truth, glad of escape.”
    Lady Messingham regarded Philip as if puzzling out a great enigma. He, who so convincingly affected the manner of a reckless ne’er-do-well, was surprisingly sober. Moreover, Philip had incurred a prince’s displeasure in her defense. Even in his pique, she felt strangely protected rather than threatened by him.
    â€œWhy are you here, when I expressly advised you against it?” he asked.
    Her mind worked to compose a plausible answer that was not an outright lie. “For the play,” she blurted with a slight flush. “I came for the play.”
    â€œThis is no place for a lady. I’ll call for your carriage.”
    â€œI did not come in my own,” she said.
    â€œI see.” He directed a scathing glance toward the ballroom.
    â€œIt’s not what you think.”
    â€œThat you encourage him one moment, and repel him the next? I believe I understand only too well.” He laughed mirthlessly, wondering if she’d only acted the damsel in distress to inspire Frederick’s jealousy, using Philip as part of an intricate ploy to fix the prince’s interest. Then again, hadn’t she emphatically repulsed Frederick when she practically had the heir to the throne at her feet?
    Her rising color said that his biting words had indeed left their mark. “Do not make presumptions. He manipulated me, Philip. I had not intended to come here with him.”
    â€œYou don’t belong here. Especially with him .”
    â€œThere’s the question,” she remarked almost rhetorically. “I don’t seem to know where I belong.”
    He studied the angles of her face, shadowed by moonlight. “At this moment?” His voice was low and husky in her ear. “I’d say with me.”
    â€œIs your conceit boundless?” She tilted her face and discovered their lips only inches apart.
    â€œYou deny you want me?”
    She opened her mouth to do exactly that, and then closed it with a perplexed frown. His lips twitched smugly. “We’ve both known it since that night in the carriage. I dare you to refute me.”
    She couldn’t, in all honesty. Something pulled deeply within, tempting her to explore it, to learn