“A man who does what he must,” Theo replied grimly. “Even forsaking the woman whose soul is entwined with his, because duty to one’s title must always come first.”
Her eyes widened. “It sounds ghastly.”
Living it? Yes. The poem? No.
“It gives me peace to know no matter how bleak a situation one might find oneself in, beauty can always be made of it.”
“Your face has not lost its beauty,” she said softly. “How does your leg feel?”
“Almost good enough to dance,” he promised. “If my knee could be trusted not to buckle beneath me.”
“I’ll see what I can do.” She disappeared between the stacks.
Faster than he expected, the books were back on the shelves in the library in perfect working order. Not in the condition in which Azureford had left it, of course. But fiction with fiction, science with science, and all the poetry books at Theo’s height.
He narrowed his eyes at her. “You did that?”
She blinked back at him innocently.
“Wedid this.” She hesitated. “About dancing with Lady Beatrice…”
The words scraped like nails. Theo wanted nothing but Virginia on his mind for as long as possible. And he definitely did not want to think too hard about what that might mean.
“There may be a solution,” she continued, “Even men without crutches aren’t expected to dance every set.”
He inclined his head in acknowledgment. “True.”
She glanced at the clock in the corner. “I can spare another half an hour. What does a gentleman do when he’s promised a set to a lady, but they’ve agreed not to dance?”
“Sneak her out to the balcony for a kiss?” Theo guessed hopefully.
She shook her head. “No balcony in here.”
He blinked. Would a kiss have been an option if he’d said “between the stacks” instead?
“I’ve never stood up with a gentleman at a ball,” she said. “For dancing or otherwise. You practice whatever is done in such situations, and at the same time I will learn what it is I am meant to do.”
The idea of Virginia spending her time with other gentlemen—locked in a dance or otherwise—soured Theo’s stomach.
“There’s nothing to practice about spending half an hour with an honorable gentleman,” he said. “What you need to learn is not to be taken advantage of by a boorish suitor.”
“Perfect,” she said. “I’ll be me, and you can be my boorish suitor.”
He grabbed her wrist and tugged her into the center of the room. When she complied, he glared at her. “That was the first test. You should not have come with me.”
She frowned. “This is where you dragged me.”
“I’m the boorish suitor,” he reminded her. “Never let the boorish suitor drag you anywhere.”
“What was I supposed to do?” she asked.
He pointed at his cheek. “Slap me.”
“You’re on crutches,” she stammered.
“Don’t slap me with one of my crutches. Just slap me.”
She nodded as if taking a mental note. “Anytime a loutish gentleman tries to drag me somewhere I do not wish to go, I will slap them.”
