Page 41 of The Reckless Love of an Heir
Henry held out his hand. She accepted it, and he lifted their hands into position, preparing to dance as her other hand rested on his shoulder and his settled at her back. His thumb brushed the curve of her spine, and he looked into those silver eyes. He’d always felt some level of attraction for Alethea… but for Susan… he felt a desperate hunger.
Because I never looked at her properly until this spring.The excuse swept to the tongue of his mind’s voice.
But he ought not to feel anything like that for his future sister-in-law, he ought to feel what he had always felt – nothing.
He turned Susan in a spin, without saying a word, and yet he would swear there were words in her eyes, and probably words in his. He would never speak them, though.
Neither of them spoke through the entire dance, yet her gaze held his, looking into his eyes as though she sought an answer, while he stared at her with a sense of awe.
When the dance came to an end he breathed in and stepped out of a dream, breaking whatever spell surrounded them.
‘Will you take me back to my father? I think I will sit out the next. I am exhausted and thirsty.’ Her hands slipped from his shoulder and his hold as she stepped away from him.
He moved beside her, his hand lifting to hover behind her back when they began walking. ‘What would you prefer, lemonade or punch? I will fetch you a glass.’
‘I would rather lemonade, but Alethea would welcome punch, I am sure.’
‘Yes.’ He brought his arm forward, offering her his forearm as they walked from the floor. She gripped it gently. Her touch did things to his innards it really ought not do.
He bowed to her slightly before he left her with their parents, then turned away and breathed deeply, trying to draw some sense into his head.
When he returned, Alethea was with her parents too, and so he and Alethea sat out the next dance together, talking.
He had invited Alethea to town to court her, not to develop an attraction for her sister. This emotion was the height of recklessness. When he was trying so hard to be responsible.
Alethea set her candle down beside the bed, slipped between the sheets and lay down facing Susan, resting her head on Susan’s pillow. ‘Who was your best dance partner?’
Susan took a breath.Henry. She could think of nothing but his eyes as they’d looked into hers while they’d waltzed. ‘Harry,’ she answered as Alethea turned to blow out the candle.
The scent of the burnt wick carried on the air when the room dropped into darkness.
‘Mine was Henry, which is good, I suppose…’ Alethea said.
‘He is a good dancer,’ Susan confirmed.
‘I saw he waltzed with you too.’
‘Yes.’ Susan was glad of the darkness that would hide the blush she knew would colour her skin.
‘He is being more thoughtful. He is being generous.’
‘Yes.’
‘And kind to you…’ The words were whispered into the dark.
‘Yes.’
‘I like him more than ever and I believe he is really trying, but I will not let him think he has won me. I wish him to be on his guard and fighting to win me. He owes me that.’
‘Yes.’
‘We are well suited. We laugh all the time. Yet I enjoyed the company of every man I danced with tonight, and it only proved to me how many men there are to be met in London, and I might laugh with any number of them.’
‘That is true, there are many nice men…’
11
Susan’s hands trembled when she tied the ribbons of her bonnet, as she prepared to go downstairs to the hall to meet Henry and Harry for their excursion to the Victoria and Albert Museum. She had thought of nothing else but Henry in the hours since their last waltz. Her mind was full of him, and it was more than appreciation.
