Page 69 of Tempting the Highland Spy
“Does it now?” she teased. “The seamstress certainly knew what she was doing. I take it she’s an old friend of Mrs. Carmichael.”
“The woman has a lot of those.”
Grace’s forehead wrinkled. “How well do you know her?”
“Well enough to tell you she’s a formidable woman with a good heart.”
“She is a friend of your family?”
“In a manner of speaking. She and my mother have been close for many years.”
A wistful look swept over her features. “I do miss having friends,” she said. “It’s been so very long—it feels like forever.”
“I find that difficult to believe. You’ve certainly charmed Miss Fairchild.”
She gave a little shrug. “And to what end? No matter what happens, I will go on my way after it’s over and that will be that. I’ve never had the luxury of staying in one place for long. My aunt and I had to keep moving.” No sadness touched her matter-of-fact statements. “Oh, enough of that. I’m turning into a Gloomy Gracie, as Aunt Thelma used to say when I’d pout.”
He tried to picture her pouting. He did not succeed. “I cannot envision that.”
“I was very young then, still toting around a rag doll with a face my mother had sewn herself.”
“Gloomy Gracie,” he teased. “I rather like the sound of that.”
“Perhaps I would not be sogloomyif I were whirling around the dance floor. Even one dance.”
“Believe me, your mood would not be lifted by the crunch of my heel upon your toe.”
She studied him as if genuinely puzzled. “You usually seem so confident. I could teach you.”
Harrison shot a glance toward the suit of armor that had been mounted and placed by the wall. “You’d have better luck with that fellow.”
“Don’t be silly.” She reached for his hand, curving lace-gloved fingers over his. “Come with me. I can teach you.”
He shook his head, even as he drank in her touch. “Impossible.”
“Give me ten minutes. That’s all it will take.”
“Is this some diabolical torment you’ve devised?”
“Of course not.” She flashed a smile that seemed to contradict her words.
“I’ve no intention of making an utter arse out of myself.” Truer words had never been spoken.
“I am shocked at your reluctance. I’d taken you for someone who does not back down from a challenge.”
“If we were referring to a medical procedure or employing some new type of weaponry, you’d be right.”
She hiked her brows. “Oooh, a new weapon. How very rugged.”
Blast the woman. She certainly was persistent. And she definitely possessed an instinct for getting under his skin.
“Grace, I am a realist when it comes to my strengths. And my weaknesses. And the ability to move my feet in some coordinated fashion in time to the music while synchronizing my movements with a partner’s is an ability I have not been fated to possess.”
“True courage is facing your weaknesses. Is it not?”
“Am I to believe you are now a philosopher?”
“No.” She shook her head. “To tell the truth, I’m merely a woman dressed like a princess who’d like to dance.”
