Stepping forward, I placed myself in front of him. He bowed, and I curtsied. Our introductory forms were slow and precise, our first touches featherlight and timid. And when at last we came together, our opposite hands clasped above our heads and our arms lightly rested on the other’s shoulder in analmostembrace.
Our silent dance progressed. And even without music to guide our steps, we kept an easy rhythm, circling and swaying. We all but floated around the ballroom.
“I think you were being modest,” he whispered. “You dance beautifully.”
“If that is true, it is only because I have found the right partner.”
His hold tightened. I stared into his eyes, and a feeling washed over me. A feeling I had waited my entire life to experience. A feeling both dangerous and delightful.
I was in love with Damon.
The realization was sudden and sure, like a flash of lightning and the first fall of rain.
I gripped the rough material of his shirt, and he pulled me closer. The heat of his body warmed me despite the coldness of the room.
I wished to never dance with another man again. Never hold or touch or whisper to anyone but him. I felt safe in his strong embrace.
We danced for several more minutes, but too soon our steps slowed and our dance ended. Damon released his hold of my back but not my hand, and then bowing low, he placed a lingering kiss on my hand and then my cheek.
“What the devil is going on here?” a deep voice bellowed from the doorway.
Damon tensed at the sound of his father’s voice.
I quickly stepped away, putting an appropriate space between us. Though no matter how much space I put between us, it would not change the fact that Damon and I were alone in a darkened ballroom.
Lord Winfield’s imposing figure filled the door’s threshold. His flickering candle illuminated his tight lips and gruesome stare, making him look like an angry caricature from thePostcome to life. “Miss Kent, you will return to your bedchamber forthwith. And Damon, my study. Now.” He did not move from the door but waited for compliance.
Damon squared his shoulders as if bracing himself for a certain scolding.
I, on the other hand, shrank. In truth, I wished I could melt like a candle and seep into the very floorboards beneath my feet.
“You are not to worry,” Damon said, his voice low. “Father is cross with me, not you. I will speak with him and explain the situation.”
“What exactly is our situation?” I asked quietly.
Before he could answer, Lord Winfield coughed loudly behind us, a deep, gravely sound that echoed through the ballroom and made his displeasure that we were still standing here known.
Damon gave me a small, strained smile, and then we followed Lord Winfield through the threshold and into the entryway. Lord Winfield continued toward his study, and Damon led me to the base of the grand staircase. “Thank you for the dance, Miss Kent. I shall never forget it.” And then he followed his father into the study.
I turned to walk up the stairs but only got so far as the first step before I looked back. Lord Winfield’s study door was slightly ajar, and his deep voice seeped through the crevice.
I glanced up the stairs, knowing I should return to my bedchamber as Lord Winfield had instructed, but how could I sleep when I knew Damon was being punished? I couldn’t. I padded toward the study, hiding myself to the side of the door so that if it opened, I would at least be partially hidden.
“Why, pray tell, are you dressed in peasant clothes?” Lord Winfield asked, his voice low and angry.
“I am wearing Mr. Turner’s clothing because he kindly loaned them to me when we were caught in the rain,” Damon said.
“I sent you there this morning. You should have returned hours before the weather turned. Where have you been tonight?”
“At the Turner farm,” Damon repeated. “Our tenants needed assistance fixing their roof.”
“Youlaboredwith them? Of all the absurd, vulgar things you have done, this outdoes them all.”
“They needed help,” Damon said. “Urgently.”
“I do not deny it, but a gentleman cannot work his own land. It is simply not done.” Lord Winfield released a heavy sigh, as if his anger had bled from him, and he was suddenly exhausted. “Damon, you cannot be both lord and friend. I have tried to teach you this principle time and again. Had someone seen you, you would have been shunned by theton.”
“I could not care less about theton.”
