Page 17 of The Duke and his Hellion
Abigail took his hand, biting back a laugh as they began to move in time with Harriet's haphazard playing. They glided across the floor, their steps smooth and practiced, despite the unpredictable tempo and occasional musical missteps.
As they danced, Charles leaned in close, his voice low and conspiratorial. “Now, the key to a successful dance is not just in the steps, but the conversation. A lady must be engaging, witty, and charming, all while maintaining an air of mystery and allure.”
Abigail nodded, her brow furrowed in concentration as she tried to follow his lead, both in movement and in words. “And how does one achieve such a delicate balance?” she asked, her voice laced with curious eagerness.
Charles spun her out and then back into his arms, a glint of approval in his eye. “By listening more than you speak, by asking questions that show genuine interest in your partner, and by always leaving them wanting more. A clever turn of phrase, a coy smile, a fleeting touch — these are the weapons in a lady's arsenal, the tools she uses to captivate and entice.”
“I suppose it is easier to listen when men have interesting things to say,” Abigail teased and Charles laughed as he looked down at her.
“Perhaps,” he acquiesced. “I do hope you find what I say interesting now and then.”
Abigail flashed him a quick smile. “Sometimes,” she teased, watching with a racing heart as his grin grew.
There was something about the easy way with which he'd started laughing around her that she found rather endearing. She could not help but imagine what it would be like to be courted by someone like Charles, to be the object of his affection and desire.
The thought sent a flush of heat to her cheeks, and she stumbled slightly, thrown off balance by the intensity of her own emotions. Charles noticed her discomposure, and his brow creased in a worried frown.
“Is something the matter, my lady?” he asked, his voice low and teasing. “You seem a bit flustered.”
Before Abigail could respond, Harriet hit a particularly discordant note, the sound jarring them both from their reverie. They looked over to see Harriet hunched over the keys, her shoulders shaking with laughter.
“I am sorry,” she gasped, wiping tears of mirth from her eyes. “I do not think I can go on. This little one seems determined to make my playing even worse than usual!”
Abigail and Charles joined in her laughter, the tension of the moment broken by Harriet's infectious humor. They made their way over to the pianoforte, Charles offering Harriet a gallant hand as she struggled to rise from the bench.
“Thank you for your valiant efforts, my lady,” he said, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “I think perhaps we should take a break and enjoy some refreshment. All this dancing and laughter has left me quite parched.”
Harriet nodded, rubbing her belly with a rueful grin. “I could certainly use a cup of tea and a comfortable chair. This little one has been practicing their own dance moves, I fear.”
The three of them made their way to the parlor, where a tray of tea and biscuits awaited them. As they settled into their seats, Abigail found her gaze drawn to Charles; she admired the easy grace of his movements and the warm, rich timbre of his laugh.
He caught her eye, a knowing smile playing about his lips. “So, my lady,” he said, leaning forward conspiratorially. “What have you learned from our lesson today?”
Abigail flushed, her mind racing as she tried to put her thoughts into words. “I've learned that dancing is about more than just steps and timing. It's about connection, about understanding your partner and responding to their cues. And it is about confidence, about trusting in yourself and your own abilities, even in the face of unexpected challenges.” She glanced at Harriet with a grin.
Charles nodded, a look of approval in his eyes. “Well said, my lady. You are a quick study indeed. I have no doubt that you will be the talk of the ton in no time at all.”
Abigail ducked her head, a pleased smile tugging at her lips. “I have you to thank for that, Your Grace. Your guidance and encouragement have been invaluable.”
Harriet looked between the two of them, a knowing glint in her eye. “I must say, you two make quite the pair on the dance floor.” She shot Abigail a teasing glance. “Despite those unforeseen challenges of which you speak.”
Abigail laughed softly at this and she glanced at Charles, half-hoping and half-fearing seeing a reaction in his eyes. But his expression remained inscrutable, a polite smile masking any deeper emotions that might be lurking beneath the surface.
“Lady Abigail is a talented dancer,” he said smoothly, his gaze flicking to Harriet. “And a delightful partner. I have no doubt that she will have her pick of suitors at the upcoming ball.”
Abigail's heart sank slightly at his words, a painful reminder that their lessons were just that — lessons, a means to an end, rather than a true connection or courtship. But she forced a bright smile onto her face, determined not to let her disappointment show.
“I will do my best to make you proud, Your Grace,” she said, her voice steady and clear. “And to put all of your teachings into practice.”
“Oh?” he teased her now, his brow lifted. “I am glad to see that you find me a good tutor.”
Abigail shrugged, though her eyes had a mischievous glint to them. “You are perfectly adequate,” she teased and a soft giggle bubbled over her lips. Charles lifted a brow.
“Perhaps if my student were not so distracting, I would be a better tutor,” he challenged and she lifted a brow.
“Oh? You find me distracting?”
For a second, a glance that sent a shot of hope through her heart played across his face but it vanished as soon as it appeared and he nodded, that ever-present grin around his lips already.
