Page 35 of The Love Potion
She’d begun to think that she’d gotten away without complete disaster when she heard the whispers. As the speakers no doubt intended.
“She’s getting them all to disrobe!”
“Hussy.”
It was only a couple of the more vicious women, but their words carried. And worse, her uncle wasnotone of the gentlemen who’d pulled off his spats. He was older and generally very proper in his notions. Whatever anyone else thought, he and her aunt would make the final decision on her behavior. And from the looks on their faces, they were not pleased.
In short, she was done for. Her position would be terminated by morning and there was nothing she could do about it.
“Don’t think about them,” the duke whispered in her ear. “Come, come. The music is starting.”
She sighed as she looked back at him. “I suppose I will,” she said. She could not stop what was coming for her and so she might as well enjoy the moments she had left. She was dancing with a duke. When she was old and gray, she wanted to look back on this moment with pleasure.
“There it is,” he said, smiling in approval.
“What?”
“Spunk.” He said the word as if it were a good thing when she knew most everyone would not say so. In any event, he gave herno time to refuse. The music had started up again. “Do you trust me?” he asked as he began to move her about the room.
She laughed. How could she not? “I’d trust you with my life,” she said. It was an extreme statement. He’d only saved her from a fall. And yet, she didn’t doubt the statement. He’d also stood by her when she’d destroyed her own reputation at Almack’s. If he’d tarnished his hero status beneath the oak tree, he was now back to Herculean proportions in her mind.
He grinned at her statement and pulled her tighter than was appropriate. “Then let yourself relax into my arms,” he said. “Let us really dance.”
She knew what he meant, at least intellectually. The waltz was considered scandalous because it could be a fast, exhilarating experience that overwhelmed a lady’s delicate sensibilities. Or so she had been told. And now he was daring her to trust him enough to try it.
How could she refuse? Especially since this was likely to be the very last time she danced at a society ball.
“Yes,” she whispered. And then she tried to keep up.
He held her in strong arms, guiding her with assurance. She let herself flow with his body as he whirled them around the room. He danced, but she felt as if she flew.
Spinning. Swirling. Intoxicating.
It was so wonderful that she wanted to laugh again. Only she hadn’t the breath. Instead, she enjoyed every second.
Thrilling.
And when the dance ended, he slowed, then steadied and stopped. She came to a standstill before him and wished with all her heart that she had the nerve to kiss him again. Right here. Right now. If only to thank him for an experience she would never forget.
“So beautiful,” he murmured.
“So overwhelming,” she returned.
He slowly lowered their arms, using the motion to lean closer. “Zoe has a recipe—” he began.
She knew. “I’ll bring it.”
“Carriage?” he mouthed.
“After supper.”
Done. If she were to be tossed out in the morning, why not take every moment of happiness she could tonight?
Chapter Twelve
Ras stripped outof his coat with a happy sigh. It was dark inside his carriage, but his eyes quickly adjusted. Never had he had a more enjoyable evening. His mother had been appalled, of course. She had strict opinions on a duke’s proper behavior. They did not include stripping off any attire in the middle of a ball, even something as innocuous as his spats.
He didn’t care. He couldn’t stop reliving the moment when Kynthea had laughed in his arms. The joy that had suffused her expression had filled his heart to overflowing. That she’d laughed at his antics lit him up, like when clouds parted on a dismal day.
