Page 36 of The Secret Love of a Gentleman
The expression in Rob’s eyes became pity.
‘Do not pity me for that. I came to terms with my parentage long ago.’
‘Then, what should I pity you for? Should I feel sorry for a woman who likes to dance but cannot persuade her nerves to allow it?’
She made a childish face, screwing up her lips and shaking her head, in a silent reprimand for his too clever response.
‘It is a glass prison cell of your own making,’ he said. ‘Because you built them, you can easily break the walls with a good kick. Kilbride’s actions may have been the initial cause, but you chose to remain inside when the threat has gone.’
She breathed in, and the air reached the bottom of her lungs as the tight band around her chest relaxed.
‘Break out. Kick the glass and shatter it. Dance the next with me.’
‘Rob—’
‘I cannot…’ He mimicked her voice. ‘Only because you will not. But half an hour ago you believed you could not walk into this room. At the beginning of the summer, you could not abide being in a room with me or let me touch you. You can do anything you wish. Dance.’
She breathed again. Thinking about the possibility of holding another man’s hand if the dance required swapping partners for some steps. Yet… What did she think they would do? What would holding their hand do?Nothing. Nothing!
It was as though a shackle popped open – she saw the truth, and the fear released her. She saw herself as though she were someone standing outside her body, she could not even understand why she had been afraid.
‘You had the courage to escape your marriage, I imagine that was more like a real prison. Surely this will be easier…’
Perhaps that was why the fear trapped her, because she had never wholly escaped Albert. Because she kept Albert in her thoughts and heart. It angered him when she danced with or touched other men for any reason. Perhaps some part of her still feared the consequences. The pulse of her heartbeat throbbed all the way to her fingertips.
The tempo of the music changed, the country dance came to a close and they began playing a waltz.
Rob held out his hand. ‘I dare you.’ His smile glinted in his eyes. ‘Caro,’ he bowed slightly, ‘may I have the honour of this waltz?’
‘You are a fool,’ she said as she lay her hand on his.
‘While you are the most beautiful woman in this room.’
He stepped backwards, leading her in among the dancers, a palm resting on her lower back, his whole body only two inches from hers.
The emotions writhing in her nerves were not derived from any sense of fear. She had physical feelings for him. Desire. Sensations she never imagined feeling for anyone other than Albert.
The pressure of his palm on her back steered her through the steps.
She loved to dance when she was younger. It was a wonderful feeling to spin with the rhythm of the music. Perhaps he was right, perhaps wounded pride made her punish herself, for failing Albert so terribly. But surely, she had served her penance now.
She would always love and mourn her lost children, but she would no longer mourn the loss of her marriage and deprive herself of the basic elements of life – dancing.
She looked into Rob’s eyes and forgot about anything except the music, and the guidance of his strong hands.
She was breathless when the dance came to an end, and disappointed when Rob’s hand slipped away from her back. They joined Mary and Drew at the edge of the floor.
‘Caro…’ Drew’s eyes sparkled, as though the daft man had tears in his eyes. ‘Will you dance the next with me? I shall willingly make a cake of myself no matter what the dance is, it is wonderful to see you smile.’
She actually laughed at him, no longer afraid or anxious.
Her third dance was with the physician who had treated Mary through two pregnancies. Caro knew him, she had shared a pot of tea with him at the house. Her fingers trembled a little as she accepted his hand, but as they danced a jolly country dance her nerves eased. Rob danced with Mary in the line beside them, smiling towards her.
She was returned to Drew’s side, flushed and smiling. He stood beside a man she did not know. ‘Caroline, this is Mr Slade,he rents one of my farms. Mr Slade, this is my sister, Lady Kilbride.’
The farmer bowed. ‘Would you care to dance with me, ma’am?’
Caro’s skin heated by a degree. He must have come to wait with Drew so he might ask.
