“We should find some refreshment,” he said swiftly. She must be thirsty, and likely cold, too. He glanced around, seeing if the footman who had taken everyone’s cloaks and shawls was nearby. She should have something to warm herself.
“Thank you, Lord...”
“Nicholas,” he interrupted, feeling confused. He did prefer it when she used his name. It was important.
“Yes, Nicholas.” She sounded weary. Nicholas cursed his grandmother inwardly. Why did she have to have such a long guest-list?
“Nicholas!” Grandmother called him from near the refreshments table. “Come and see Lady Heatherstone. She hasn’t seen you since you were a little boy.”
Nicholas went over to greet the woman dutifully, gratefulthat Bernadette followed. He took a glass of cordial for Bernadette from the table, taking an identical one for himself. He sipped it, making a face. It was lime cordial; one he didn’t like. He glanced at Bernadette, thinking she probably didn’t like it much, either.
They drifted through the hall, as they were intended to, greeting the guests and accepting their wishes dutifully. Nicholas glanced around, searching for his mother and Henry. They had said they would come but they couldn’t stay long—Grandmother had elected to have a four-hour ball and they wanted to retire early so the girls would have enough energy for Lady Gracefield’s ball the next day.
The evening wore on, and Nicholas heard the musicians tuning, getting ready to start playing the dance music. He felt his heart skip. He’d never danced with Bernadette before. Swallowing, he tried to calm his raging nerves. He had so little practice at doing this and he wanted to do it properly. He had no idea how to do that, but he prayed inwardly for courage, and decided his best would have to be good enough.
“Bernadette?” he said softly. “Would you...would you do me the honour of the first dance?”
He saw her draw in a breath, and he considered, for a horrid moment, that he’d done it the wrong way and she wasn’t going to agree to it. But she curtseyed, and when she looked up at him, her eyes, which had been wearied from the long hour of greetings, were sparkling once more. He drew in a breath, heart soaring.
“Yes,” she said, her voice soft and gentle. “Yes, I will.”
Nicholas bowed and took her hand. He felt as though the whole room watched them as they walked to the floor. He tried to ignore it, and then, after a moment or two, found he didn’t care. Let them stare! What did he have to be ashamed of? The most beautiful, the sweetest, woman in the ballroom was dancing with him. They could stare until their eyes watered.
He bowed again when the music began, then took her hand in his and drew her close, heart thudding at the closeness of their stance for the waltz. His hand was on her shoulder-blade, drawing her against him, his other hand on hers where she held it outstretched to grasp his. Her body seemed to mold to his as they took a step and his skin prickled with a strange, tense yet lovely sensation as they swayed together in the steps of the dance.
The music was slow, yet with the lively rhythm of a waltz, and he stepped and whirled and guided her across the floor. She danced beautifully, her steps light, her turns gracious, and he found that he could listen to the music, his mind soaring as they whirled and stepped and turned. It was easy. It was effortless.
Nicholas let out an amazed breath. He’d never danced like this.
They whirled about the room, her hand in his, her body pressed close in the turns, her scent giddying his senses. He closed his eyes as they danced, lost in the beauty of it.
They heard the cadence change, indicating that the music was slowing, and she curtseyed, and he bowed as the dancers around them applauded their own and each other’s efforts. He looked into Bernadette’s eyes with his own soul flooded withwarmth.
“Thank you,” he whispered, “for a lovely dance.”
“Thank you,” she intoned softly.
They walked off the dance floor towards the doors, where cool air blew in from the terrace outside. Nicholas stood near the doors, breathing in the cool air, letting it cool the perspiration on his brow. He gazed down at Bernadette.
She looked up at him, her hazel eyes bright, her lips a brighter red, cheeks flushed with the effort of the dance, and his heart stopped as tenderness and joy flooded through him.
Could I be falling in love?he asked himself.
He smiled at her, and she smiled back, and he knew. He was.
He took her hand and stood with her, unsure what to do or say, knowing only that his heart was full and that, somehow, soon, he would need to find the words to tell her how much he cared.
He gazed down at her, eyes full of love, and hoped that soon he would have the courage to tell her so.
Chapter 19
A sweet, soaring melody wove through the room, mixing with the delicate sound of glass tinkling on glass and the refined murmur of voices and laughter. Bernadette stood in the corner of the room, feeling utterly confused.
The feeling of Nicholas’ hand on hers burned along her veins, each fingerprint feeling as though the press of his fingers lingered there. The feeling was even stronger on her shoulder-blade, where he had pressed to draw her close. The waltz, its sweet intimacy, made her heart race. Her brow creased as she recalled it and glanced across at Nicholas.
He stood with his grandmother talking to a woman of around his mother’s age. The two of them had been standing with Lady Lockwood for around ten minutes. Clearly, the woman and Lady Lockwood were well acquainted, to judge from their nods and smiles and laughter, but Nicholas seemed unhappy. His posture was tense, his head bent forward as though he strained to catch the lady’s words. She frowned, wondering what was troubling him.
While she stared across at them, a younger woman approached the group—Bernadette recognized her from when they had been standing by the door. She was around Nicholas’ age, perhaps a little younger, and she had pale curls and acurvaceous figure. She wore a cream-colored gown patterned with brilliants that sparkled when she moved. Her gestures were refined and elegant, her laughter scintillating and bright.
