Page 40 of Lady Fiona's Tall, Dark Folly
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"Good evening, my darling,"Rory bowed before Fifi in the crowded ballroom. He'd searched for her everywhere, but seen her arrive minutes ago to take a chair near her friends, Ivy and Grace. Not wishing to stir gossip, he waited a few minutes more before approaching her. "How enchanting you look."
"Thank you, my lord." She nodded from her chair as he raised her hand to drop a kiss upon her white glove. "I'm pleased you like it."
"I like you." He grinned and the twinkle in her sky blue eyes added a heart-pounding need inside him to sweep her up and take her to the floor. Once more, he could not believe his good fortune that this woman was his. She'd become his wife very soon and so the disturbing tale he'd learned this afternoon from a friend of hers had to be resolved. "You didn't wait for me to assist you down the stairs."
"I wished to meet my aunt earlier and so I navigated the stairs myself."
"So I see. Are you better?"
"Much." She grinned. "Due to your care."
"You give me more credit than I'm due." He tugged at her hand. "Come dance with me."
"Oh, I never dance."
"Why ever not?" He didn't believe her.
"I'm terrible at it. I have no ability to keep time."
"I find that odd."
"Ha!" She unfurled her fan. "You are not the only one! Besides,"—she lifted her slippered foot with its tight bandage and lifted her hem an inch to show him—"I am incapacitated."
"Rubbish." He pulled her to her feet and put her fan to her chair. "It's a waltz."
"My feet are clay!" She clutched his arm. "Truly. I do not dance. When I was young, I had four different music teachers and not one could teach me how to count."
"You've not had the right instructor at the right time. So now, as in much else, my sweet, I am your man."
She threw back her head to laugh as he slipped an arm around her waist and led her to the edge of the chalked floor. There, he bowed once more, a devil possessing him, then he settled her torso ever so close to his. Her warmth intoxicated him. "Now, move with me. Slowly. There, you see. There."
She choked on laughter. "We move at a snail's pace, Rory. Everyone else whips past."
He grinned at the ceiling, then at her. "We dance to our own music."
She moved with him, in a flowing elegance that made him desire her more. But her lovely mouth was tight with concern. "Oh, Rory, I wish I could kiss you."
"Here?" He arched a brow in mirth. "Do."
She chastised him with a look. "We mustn't."
"Why not? Kiss me, if you wish. I shan't stop you."
Her cheeks turned bright pink. "We'll be the talk of the town."
"I don't care." He led her away to the far corner where no others stood. A raw desire for her had him cursing the need to clear the air on this one issue."I must talk with you. In private. Will you walk with me in the hall?"
She looked alarmed. "What's wrong?"
"Please, Fifi."
He led her across the room to slip into the hall. Others were about. Far too many in fact and he led her to stroll toward the orangery.
"I have a friend who fought in the wars who attended this very party years ago. He fell in love at first sight."
She sent him a smile. "It seems to be the very thing to do at Courtland Hall. Perhaps it's in the water!"
