Page 8 of A Baron's Scandalous Quill
“Ha! A great one indeed, and yet there are more still.” He turned to face her fully. “It provokes the desire…” He halted, realizing exactly what he was saying. He certainly felt desire; it ripped through him like lightning as he stared at the lady, though he was certain it had nothing to do with wine now.
“But it takes away the performance,” she finished the quote with a quirked eyebrow.
They both laughed together, she hid her laugh behind her glass as he guffawed, tipping back his head.
“Well, I can say categorically that no other woman here tonight would talk openly with me not only about Shakespeare, but desire, too,” he confessed, controlling his laughter.
“No?” She looked around with a sudden blush pinkening the tops of her cheeks. “How dull.”
He laughed again, finding the feeling oddly easy with this stranger before him. Having made a fool of himself more than once already this evening as he had attempted conversations with ladies he was introduced to, he now felt a need to stay by this woman. At least with her, he could talk.
“You have no dance card,” he observed, gesturing to the fact her wrist was bare as she lifted her glass.
“Ah, no,” she murmured, looking around the room once more, presumably at the other ladies and their dance cards, which hung from delicate ribbons on their wrists.
“Were you hoping to avoid dancing by not bringing one?”
“Something like that.” She smiled. “You’d find me a poor dance partner, sir. I know none of these intricate routines that I have heard the to…I mean, that I have heard are danced at such events as these.”
“And what of the waltz?”
It is not because I am imagining having her in my arms again. That is not what this is!
Despite the thought, he purposefully clutched his glass hard, not yet outstretching an arm toward her.
“The waltz?” she murmured. “That is the one in three time, is it not?”
“It is all done through lead and follow, and I believe one has just begun.” He held up his hand in the air, and they both listened for a beat. A long introduction to a waltz had commenced, and couples all across the room were moving toward the space cleared for dancing in the ballroom. “Would you join me?” William asked, at last lifting a hand toward her.
She hesitated, and that moment’s pause made him feel as if he had been kicked in the stomach. Was it possible she had not felt the heat as he had done when they had collided with one another? Were those wide eyes and pink cheeks merely embarrassment and not excitement at all?
Then she downed the rest of her champagne glass. William laughed, startled, for he had never seen any lady do such a thing before. Each lady here this evening sipped her wine delicately, asif the idea of parting her lips far at all was a scandal. This lady, though, had no such qualms. Not a drop was left in the glass as she put the glass down.
“Dutch courage?” he asked with a humored smile.
“Perhaps.” She matched his smile, then passed her hand into his.
Unlike some of the other ladies here tonight, she didn’t wear long white gloves that reached her elbows, but her hands were bare, the delicate and thin fingers resting against the palm of his hand so perfectly that the heat returned in an instant.
“Will you forgive me if I collide with you again, and this time, we really will fall on our faces?” she asked.
“Trust me. I will not let you fall.” He winked and drew her away.
***
Becca hesitated as they reached the dance floor.
What am I doing? Why in God’s name did I agree to such a thing?
She had listened to the drumming feeling in her chest, her thudding heartbeat, rather than the sound thinking of her mind,and followed him to the floor. Other dancers surrounded them and were already taking hold of one another, ready to dance.
She waited, unsure what to do, and hastily curtseying once the gentleman opposite her bowed, then he offered his hand to her, and she moved toward him. With trembling hands, she took hold of his hand and his shoulder.
I do not belong here. I belong beyond these walls as one of the classes that are closer to serving the people within. I should not be dancing with a gentleman!
Strangely, it didn’t seem to matter, though, as he rested a hand on her waist. That warm, tingling feeling she’d felt before when he’d taken hold of her returned tenfold, but if anything, even stronger than before.
Not a word passed between them as he led her into the first few steps of the dance. At first, she fumbled her steps, but rather than despairing at her, he laughed warmly.
