Vail raised his shoulders in a shrug when the Lady Victoria asked him why he was so eager to dance with her. “Is there a reason why I shouldn’t be eager to dance with the guest of honor?” he queried with a smile, though [i]eager[/i] was the furthest from what he was feeling. Of course, he knew he couldn’t tell her that he had only intervened because he didn’t trust the other Lord she’d been talking with—especially now that he knew the Wynter was to be her husband—so feigning impatience was the next best option.

As the dance began, he laid his hand on the small of her back to guide her through the movements. Her comment about his conversation with her betrothed—apparently the Lord’s name was Spencer—made him smirk. “You could say that,” he mused, walking her through a simple turn. After attending events like this for two centuries, the motions of each kind of dance had become second nature to him. He barely even needed to focus to lead her from move to move and thus conversed with her easily, never missing a step.

At her sarcastic question, Vail chuckled. “Luckily, no,” he answered, watching her red dress flow like water as she twirled in front of him. The succulent aroma of blood lingered about her as well, and though it had faded quite a bit from the pungency with which it had struck him before, he still found it stimulating. He pursed his lips together. She really was quite an alluring woman. Perhaps he could see why Spencer was so fascinated with the Lady Crest after all.

“Let’s just say we disagree about some things that prevent us from getting along,” he explained vaguely, pressing his hand a little more firmly against her back to pull her into a series of close-quarters steps. In the altered position, his face hovered close to her neck, something that would have been difficult for most vampires to handle. However, Vail prided himself on his self-control, abstaining from even touching her soft skin as he continued to walk her through the dance.