Hart smiled at her enthusiasm, and not for the first time, he wondered how she lived with so much joy inside her. It never seemed to dim. He walked to her, reaching out, needing to see if some of that joy would transfer to him if he held her tight.
She continued to smile up at him, when he wrapped his arm around her. “Hart,” she fluttered those lush eyelashes at him.
“Yes?”
“Would you dance with me?”
He stiffened. “I can’t dance anymore.”
“I know that usually you are afraid to bump into anyone. But there is not a soul here but the two of us. You do remember how to waltz, don’t you?”
Of course, he remembered how to dance. He glanced around the empty room. Could he still lead a woman gracefully across the floor without stumbling? His gaze returned to his wife’s hopeful expression.
Lucy reached up and pulled the pin from her hat, removing it. She held out her hand. Her blue eyes sparkled irresistibly with mischief. “Dance with me, Hart?”
Since when had he ever turned down an opportunity to seduce a beautiful woman while dancing? He’d be damned if he let his blasted eye stop him now. He handed her his walking stick. She took both it and her hat to a chair on the edge of the room and set them down. When she returned, he was ready for her. He scooped her up against him tightly, one hand splayed at her back, and the other clasped her hand out in the ready position. He bent to nuzzle the spot behind her ear that always made her shiver. “Since there are no society matrons watching, I shall hold you indecently close, like they do in the French court.”
“Lovely,” she murmured. “Now, for some music.” She began to hum.
Hart’s instincts kicked in, and he led them around the floor. One, two, three… one, two, three. After accomplishing the first couple of turns without stumbling, he began to relax. He would never be able to do this on a crowded dance floor while people danced around them and through his blind spot, but Lucy was right. There was nothing wrong with his dancing skills. He twirled them in wide circles, enjoying the freedom of movement the empty room afforded. Holding her in his arms was a pleasure. She let out a small sigh and laid her head against his shoulder. Another thing they would never be able to do in public.
“I always had fantasies about you waltzing me around a glittering ballroom.”
“You did?”
“Of course. You were the most sophisticated gentleman I knew. Well, except for your brother, perhaps. When I was sixteen, the two of you were like golden gods to my eyes.”
He chuckled. “That was the old me. I used to think I was quite the catch.”
Lucy lifted her head. “I think you were. You always had plenty of women to dance with, especially after you became the duke. I didn’t stand a chance against your harem.”
“I didn’t have as many women as you seem to think.” Hart frowned; that wasn’t entirely true. He had had his share of affairs. Didn’t every young man? Perhaps he’d been too casual in his attitude toward women. But when there were always ladies willing to vie for your attention, it was hard to say no. It made him uncomfortable to think maybe he was more like his father than he would like to admit.
Glancing down at Lucy, this woman who had become so dear so quickly, he felt the need to reiterate, “That was the old me.” He pulled them to a stop. “You are the only woman that I want to dance with now,” he admitted.
“Good, because I don’t like to share.” She planted a possessive kiss on his lips.
And as he sank into her kiss, he found that he quite liked being possessed by this one lady. “Me either,” he said against her lips. “If we were at a ball surrounded by people on the dance floor, I would spirit you away to a dark corner and try to convince you to let me pleasure you until you were breathless and begging for more.”
“I would let you. I have become addicted to your charms, husband.”
Good. He pulled her hard against him with every intention of charming his way right under her skirts. A glance around the room showed a decided lack of furniture, save for a few chairs left along the wall. He briefly considered one, but the lack of privacy if someone else were to wander in was not acceptable. He gripped her hand and walked over to gather their things. “Let’s get out of here.” He shoved her hat into her hands.
“Are we going back to the party?”
“Hell, no. I’m going in search of a dark corner.”
He pulled her from the ballroom back out to the corridor. One of these rooms must be empty. Halfway down the corridor, past the ballroom, they heard male voices coming from a room at the end of the hallway. The door to that room was cracked open a couple of inches. Hart paused to listen when he recognized Lord Blackpool’s voice.
“Gentlemen, let’s all calm down.”
“I cannot.” Another voice, which Hart couldn’t quite put his finger on, rang out. “That girl out there is living what should have been my daughter’s life.”
“Your bad decisions coming back to haunt you, eh?” A different, deeper voice chuckled.
“If you hadn’t killed the boy, maybe I could have convinced him to honor the agreement!”
“Are you insane? After you killed his father?”
