When she seemed comfortable with those steps, he said, “Now, turn toward me, and I will raise our left hands high.” She did, and he lifted her hand, holding it up while he moved his right hand to the small of her back.
“Put your right hand on my shoulder,” he said. “If you would, please.”
“This feels like I shouldn’t be this close to you,” she admitted.
“It’s like an embrace, isn’t it?” For a moment, he held steady, letting her get used to his hand against her body. “I think that’s why men and women enjoy waltzing. It gives you the chance to see if you like being so close to someone.”
“I—I don’t know if I like it or not.” Her face was flushed, and for a moment, he thought about kissing her. Her mouth interested him, and he suspected she’d never been kissed before. Now that would be an enjoyable lesson—to spend hours teaching her how to kiss. He imagined stealing the slightest touch, letting the warmth of his mouth press against hers. The very thought heated his blood, making him yearn for more. For a moment, he indulged himself in the idea of courting this woman. He found her lovely, and she did seem to be a potential wife candidate, even if she was shy.
She took a breath, as if trying to calm herself. “What happens next in the dance?”
“From here, you’ll take smaller steps while I move you in a circle.”
“What kind of steps?” she asked.
He thought a moment, and then an unexpected laugh broke forth. “To be honest, I’ve no idea. Women’s skirts are so long, I could never quite tell what they were doing. I don’t think it matters so very much.”
“It does matter a great deal,” she protested. “If I move the wrong way, I’ll step on your toes and fall.”
At that, he realized she’d come up with an excellent solution. “That’s a very good idea, actually. Go on and step on my toes. Both of them, if you please. I’ll move my feet in the correct patterns, and you can learn them by feeling the direction instead of me trying to teach it badly.”
“I’ll crush your feet,” she argued. “It’s not a good idea. Nor is it very proper.”
“I’ll only suffer for a wee bit. Go on, then.”
She stepped on his feet, and he tested out a step or two. Her weight was hardly anything at all, but he grunted, “Never mind then. You were right about my feet.”
In spite of herself, she started laughing. “You’re not serious.”
“I might be.” He groaned again with mock pain. It was good to hear her laugh for the first time. Cormac began moving her through the pattern of the waltz, despite her feet being atop his.
“Did you never dance with your father like this?” he asked.
“No, never. He wasn’t much of a dancer.” But she seemed fully concentrated on the steps. He kept it very slow, both for her sake and his own lingering pain.
“Are you ready to try it on your own?” he asked. “We’ll march forward first.”
“I will probably be terrible.” But she stepped off his feet and moved beside him once again. They took four steps, and she turned to him, keeping their left hands clasped above their heads while his hand was on her spine.
Her face was so close to his, he could easily have stolen a kiss. From the way her breathing grew unsteady, he suspected she felt something as well. Heat seemed to emanate between them in a silent invitation for more. He suddenly imagined unbuttoning her gown slowly, tracing the silken line of her back.
“Lord Dunmeath, I—” She started to pull back, but he held her hands a moment longer.
“You’re doing very well,” he said. “Now perhaps next time when I’m inviting you to dance at a ball, you might say yes.”
But her expression faltered. “Why are you helping me, Lord Dunmeath? I am grateful to you, but... are they paying you to be here?”
“No. I agreed to come and help.”
“But why?”
I need a wife and I’m running out of time,he almost said. Instead, he answered, “Because I am a curious man. I’d like to know how you’ve managed to survive all this time. No one seems to grasp the challenges you face every day, simply by walking into a room. It intrigues me.”
“I don’t have a choice,” she pointed out. “But then, I suppose I am lucky to have any sight at all. Sometimes when I feel sorry for myself, I imagine those who cannot see anything.”
“Does your family know?” he asked.
“They don’t know how bad it is. They think I can see most things and that I am only clumsy.”
