The music began and he led her into the steps of the waltz, his eyes upon hers. He twirled her around one corner of the ballroom floor. She was gazing back at him, unsmiling.
“What is it?” she asked.
He raised his eyebrows.
“You are not smiling,” she said.
Ah.
“With so many eyes upon us,” he told her, “I am counting steps for fear of tripping over your feet or my own.”
Her eyes laughed. His heart warmed and his feet somehow danced of their own volition, and they waltzed on, their eyes still upon each other.
And somehow the music and the dance wove their magic and seeped into every pore of his body and soothed his soul, while the colors of flowers and ballgowns and the light of innumerable candles swirled about the periphery of his awareness along with the hum of conversation and laughter. And he forgot for a few blessed minutes that they were on display, their every look and move food for speculation and possible censure.
Her cheeks were flushed and her lips slightly parted. Her eyes were dreamy. And she looked…Ah, Elizabeth.
“May I tell you something?” he asked her, and she raised her eyebrows. “You looked quite gorgeous in your gold and bronze gown last week with your elaborate hairstyle. But in your turquoise tonight with your hair dressed more simply, you are…Elizabeth.”
And what sort of asinine comment was that?
Her eyes smiled and then laughed again. “Is that a compliment?” she asked.
“I used the wordgorgeousof the other gown,” he said, “and thus deprived myself of a greater superlative.”
The laughter spread to her whole face.
“So I used the wordElizabeth,” he said. “A superlative to outdo all superlatives.”
Laughter bubbled over. “Oh, well done,” she said. “Very well done.”
“Language is the damnedest thing,” he told her. “It lets one down just when one needs it most.”
“But it did not let you down this time,” she assured him. “I might have been pleased if you had used other superlatives likestunningorgloriousorincomparable. But I like best of all being Elizabeth.”
“Incomparable, yes,” he said. “I did not think of that one. But I can never forget that you are Elizabeth.” He grinned at her and then laughed. “You must be wondering if this is the quality of conversation you may expect of me for the next few decades.”
“Is it?” she asked him, widening her eyes.
“Well,” he said, “you will always be Elizabeth, you know.”
“And you will be saying it for the next few decades,” she said softly.
“Yes,” he said, his eyes holding hers.
She smiled again and they waltzed on in a world that encompassed only the two of them.
The music ended far too soon. They stopped dancing and gazed at each other. And because there was a certain degree of familiarity in the moment, he was aware again of the attention that was still focused upon them from all parts of the ballroom. He moved his head a little closer to hers and was very tempted to kiss her. She made no move to pull away from him.
“Let us show everyone that we didnotkiss, shall we?” he asked.
“Yes.” And there was laughter in her face again and color in her cheeks and a twinkle in her eyes.
“Allow me,” he said, stepping back from her and extending one hand while he made her a courtly bow, “to escort you back to your mother’s side.”
“Thank you.” She set her hand on the back of his.
And quite suddenly and unexpectedly he wanted her. Good God, he wanted her.
