He frowned. “You?”
She cast her gaze about the library in obvious distress, then shook her head. “It’s too mortifying.”
Titus glanced over her shoulder. “Buttons. Out. Close the door behind you.”
The maid paled. “But propriety dictates—”
“Out. If I have to say it a third time, you’ll be out on the street.”
Buttons scurried from the library with alacrity, shutting the door firmly behind her.
“There.” Titus turned back to Miss Dodd. “Now you will tell me the problem, and I shall resolve it.”
Her cheeks flushed. “It’s just… I thought I was ready. When Aunt Stapleton said we’d be going to Marrywell, it sounded like a grand adventure. I would meet fine lords and ladies. I would dance at a ball.”
“And I took you away before you could take a single step.”
“No one was going to ask. I’d failed to account for the fact that I am not a fine lady, but a country bumpkin. I don’t look the part or act the part or have any part at all.”
“You’ll look the part soon enough. Madame Theroux will deliver each item as she finishes it.”
“Then I will be an oinking piglet in French fashions.”
“I have not noticed any such lapse in decorum.”
“That is because you are a sweet man with a kind soul.”
Titus stared at her, speechless. Literally no one had ever described him in such a shockingly inaccurate manner. Not as a child, and certainly not as a grown man.
“The others…” Miss Dodd bit her lip. “If I were to attend a ball, they’d laugh at me. I wouldn’t know what to say or how to act to fit in.”
“Trust me,” said Titus. “The most piercing question you’ll be asked is for your opinion on the weather. Whilst dancing, you needn’t talk at all if you’d…” He narrowed his eyes. “Can you dance?”
“Yes, of course. Well, somewhat. That is, I can in theory.”
“What the devil does that mean?”
“It means my parents taught me. I never had a proper tutor, or any public occasion in which to practice. I’ve taken several turns about my parlor… which, I must confess, did not much resemble what I saw in that ballroom. I can muddle through the pattern of a quadrille, but I haven’t the least notion how to waltz.”
“You can’t waltz,” he repeated.
She shook her head.
He let out a long suffering sigh. “Come here.”
A frown marred her forehead. “Pardon me?”
“I said, come here.” He shoved the chairs out of the way, then pulled her to him, lifting her right hand shoulder-high and settling his other palm on her left hip. “If those nodcocks can do it, so can you. Follow my lead.”
He hummed a slow French waltz under his breath as he led her into the steps.
Her feet stumbled at first, then quickly caught on to the rhythm. By the second loop about the library, her movements were as graceful as any Titus had ever encountered. Miss Dodd would not embarrass herself on the dance floor.
She would enchant the hearts of every man who danced with her, instead.
His chest tightened and he glared down at Miss Dodd.
She smiled up at him. “You have a lovely singing voice.”
