Sophia dug the toe of her slipper into the rug and staged losing her balance. Wilhelm grabbed her arm to steady her, which sent the snifter of whiskey down the front of her dress while the tray toppled into Lord Devon’s lap, spilling the wine right on target.
Wilhelm shot out of his chair, drawing the eyes of every guest to his soaked groin.
“Lord Devon! Forgive me, I am so clumsy!” Sophia pressed a hand to her throat, making an effort to appear aghast.
“The fault is mine, my lady. Alas I have ruined your lovely dress.” Allow me to remove it for you, his eyes said. He turned to his guests, taking Sophia’s arm. “Do excuse us.”
Us? Us! Her cheeks heated. Certain every guest imagined precisely what Lord Devon implied, she left the room on his arm, silently cursing him every name she could conjure.
“Thank you.” He kissed her temple.
“I am sorry about your trousers.”
“It was worth it.”