As he led her out, his strong fingers drawing her forward, he said, “I’ve not waltzed in many years, you’ll forgive my awkwardness if I step on your toes, Ada.”
“I saw you with your mother, sir,” she managed, “and I think you do quite well.”
They faced each other while the orchestra chose their next piece.
“You look magnificent in that red gown.”She barely got out her thanks when he said, “How are you?What did you do today?Aside from play with my girls.”
“I took a walk along the river.”
“I thought you might.”He flowed closer, his voice lower, more intimate.“I wanted to search for you, join you there but I…didn’t.”
Hurt, insulted that he hadn’t, she had to stun him.“When do you return to Shanghai?”
He blinked.“I planned originally to return next spring.”
“But now?”
He winced.“I talk of late autumn.”
“Isn’t it dangerous to travel in winter storms?”Yes, she was angry, sad.She had come to care for him and he was leaving England.Why had she assumed he was here to stay?Foolish.
The orchestra began another Viennese waltz, a sweeping Strauss she adored.
He drew her hand in his, his other around her waist, his heat a soothing balm to her sorrow.“How do you know?”
“Does it matter?”
“No.”He locked his remarkable blue-green eyes on hers.“I should have told you.My intention was never to remain, but to return.”
She fumed.“It doesn’t matter.”
“It does.I should have told you.”
“Ezzie overheard you arguing with your brother.”Did she sound as childish, as petulant as she felt?Oh, the disgrace of it.Tears stung her eyes and she wanted to yell at him like a fishwife for leaving her.Why must you live so far away?
The music began and he stepped into first position with her.“Oh, darling, don’t cry.I’ll explain.I— Hell.We’re in the soup now.Dance with me.”
She gulped back the urge to sob because the warmth of his embrace was too cool to match the flames inside her.His strength compelled her to move with him, but the inches, the chasm between them grew wider as her heart rebelled against his future loss.
The rigors of the waltz demanded her attention.She’d always loved to dance but somehow she’d never been any good at it.Clumsy, out of rhythm, she hated that she might not match him.To spite him, she bit off her words.“I’ll never waltz again.”
“Ada, please.”
She met his gaze, appalled to see tears cloud his marvelous eyes.
“Finish this.Then we’ll talk.”
Compelled by propriety to stay on the floor, she flowed with him.“ThenI’m going to kick you in the shins.”
He barked in laughter.“And I’m going to kiss you again.”
“Not if you’re leaving England for Shanghai, you’re not.”
“Ada, sweetheart.What if I kiss you and you persuade me to remain until the spring?”
“I won’t let you,” she told him.“And I won’t persuade you.”You’ll still leave and I won’t go with you.
His gaze, searing and soothing to her pride, caressed her lips.“I don’t believe you.”
