“Why don’t you just call it a small hop, then?”
His voice rose slightly with each question, and Mama raised hers even more in response, until she was practically shouting. “Because civilized Englishmen speakFrench, Mr. Corbyn. Have you really no education at all?”
Hannah stepped between them swiftly. “Why don’t we break for refreshments?”
While the simmering hostility in the room boded well for the eventual demise of their engagement, she couldn’t let it boil over quite yet. They still had to get Papa to town.
“We haven’t even done the first step!” Mama pressed her handsto her brow. “You two shall be the death of me. We are not leaving this room until one of you can do a chassé.”
Oh, very well.Hannah lifted her skirts ever so slightly to expose her ankles.
“Temps levé, one foot forward, close the step, leading foot forward again, now hop as your following foot closes and you’re ready for the next temps levé.” She demonstrated in time with her words, while Corbyn watched her feet doubtfully. When she’d finished, she turned back to her mother. “There. Now one of us has done a chassé.”
“I meant the other one.” Mama eyed Mr. Corbyn expectantly.
He emitted a strangled sigh. “Which foot am I supposed to lead with?”
“The right.” Hannah executed the step for him again, this time a little more slowly. His eyes were fixed on her movements, which he reproduced clumsily a moment later.
“No, no, no,” Mama scolded. “Don’t look at your feet. Your back must be straight and your arms should be gracefully rounded.”
“Couldn’t I keep my back straightafterI learn the step?” Corbyn executed the chassé a second time, this time keeping his back perfectly rigid. It would have been nearly passable if the expression on his face weren’t so foreboding. No one wanted a dance partner who looked like he was about to choke down a spoonful of castor oil.
“I saidgracefullyrounded. Your elbows are pointing outward like a pigeon flapping.”
“I think I’ve done just about all the chassé-ing I can manage this morning,” Corbyn growled.
“A small break!” Hannah pleaded. “And we shall return refreshed. Mr. Corbyn, why don’t you accompany me for a turn about the room?”
“So long as we’rewalking.”
While her mother rang for the maid to bring in something todrink, Hannah whispered to Corbyn quickly. “It’s only dancing. Please endure it for an hour or two. I don’t want you provoking my mother untilaftermy father arrives in town, remember?”
“She’sprovokingme,” he hissed. “She won’t stop harping on every flaw.”
“Imagine how I feel. At least you may return home when the lesson is done.”
This silenced Mr. Corbyn, though Hannah regretted her hasty words a moment later. She shouldn’t be speaking so freely about her family with an outsider. What was it about Mr. Corbyn that made her feel that she could confide in him? It must come from sharing a secret. Working together to fool her mother had given Hannah a false sense of intimacy, and now she kept forgetting herself.
She smoothed over her lapse in a calmer voice. “You were doing perfectly well. It would be easier for you if we could take our time instead of rushing through everything at once.”
“You recall that we’re attending a ball in less than a week?”
Goodness, is he actually worried about that?
“I don’t expect you to dance with me. By the time we’re finished here, Mama will see that it’s hopeless.” When Mr. Corbyn tensed, she quickly added, “I don’t mean that as an insult.No onecould learn how to dance in so little time. It simply isn’t possible, but we’re humoring her to keep the peace for a few more days, agreed?”
Oh dear.Hannah hadn’t meant to offend him. Why must he take each task so seriously when they both knew it was an act?
“Not agreed.” Corbyn narrowed his eyes. “What are we doing at a ball if we don’t dance? Won’t it make a poor impression before you’re ready?”
“I don’t mind,” she assured him. “I never thought we would dance in the first place.”
“Maybe I could learn one.” Of all the things to fall from Mr.Corbyn’s mouth, this had to be the most unexpected. Perhaps even more than their kiss. After all, Hannah could understand why kissing felt good, while dancing had never brought her anything but frustration. Why on earth should he want to do it, except out of some perverse desire to prove that he could?
But Hannah wasn’t going to be the one to tell him no. He got tetchy about that sort of thing.
She brought their walk about the room to a halt and motioned for Mr. Corbyn to stand facing her. Perhaps he would find it easier without her mother hovering over them. “Your arms should be like this.” Hannah bent her elbows and wrists to the slightest degree with her hands in front of her body just below her hips, forming a gentle curve rather than a sharp angle. She held the pose patiently until he tried to imitate it. “No, hands closed. May I?”
