“Nonsense! You can do it!” Bridget went through the first few steps of the waltz, grinning at the maid. “Just do what I do!”
Bridget spun and swayed to the music. It was a little less exciting when she did not have a proper partner. Her eyes darted to the stairs, for her husband must emerge soon. No one could sleep through the sounds made by an orchestra, after all!
The parlor maid awkwardly spun in a facsimile of Bridget’s own movements. Lewis’s butler had left, and it seemed as though he was reluctantly following her orders, for a handful of maids and a footman hesitantly joined her in the foyer.
“Dance!” Bridget exclaimed, laughing. “Join me!”
The parlor maid cast a quick glance at her fellow staff members. One of them tentatively stepped forward and joined her.
Bridget grinned. “Faster!”
The orchestra obeyed, and their playing grew faster and louder. Bridget laughed in breathless delight and spun with reckless abandon. With each turn, she spied more and more of the staff joining her in the early morning dancing.
But where was her husband? It seemed unfathomable that any man could remain asleep when such loud, beautiful music and laughter rose from the foyer. They were even directly beneath her husband’s bedchamber!
Bridget pursed her lips together, contemplating how she might more effectively persuade her husband to descend the stairs and come to her. She twirled around and around, daring to close her eyes and lose herself simply to the music. With her eyes closed, Bridget could imagine that she was a heroine once more, and when she opened her eyes, she would find her one true love standing before her. That man—her love—looked suspiciously like her husband, who she detested.
Well, she mostly detested him.
He was simply unlikable, and she only begrudgingly accepted that he brought her pleasure. Bridgetdidlong for that, but any woman would wish to be pleasured by her husband.
The music ceased, and Bridget opened her eyes. He was there. Bridget drew in a sharp breath of air. “Good morning, husband.”
“What are you doing?” he asked.
Bridget searched his face for any sign of frustration or displeasure, but his face remained blank, revealing nothing. She crossed her arms and frowned, vexed that the man had not reacted to an orchestra and several servants dancing in his foyer.Anyman would have reacted to that! Why was he not infuriated by this blatant flight of fancy?
“Dance with me,” Bridget said, extending a hand to him.
Lewis glanced at the orchestra. Bridget scarcely dared to breathe as she watched his face, searching for any sign of growing frustration. He nodded sharply. “Play.”
Bridget raised an eyebrow.
Lewis bowed. “As you wish, Bridget.”
He swept forward, bringing his massive body flush against hers. Bridget’s breath shuddered in her chest, as he clasped a hand at her waist. His other hand clasped hers, and they began to dance.
Her husband said nothing, but his gaze bore into her with such intensity that Bridget shivered a little. She searched her thoughts for something to say, something that he might find so vexing that he lost his sense of control.
“I thought that we might spend the entire day dancing,” Bridget said, her eyes gleaming. “I am pleased to see that you agree.”
“I know what you are trying to do,” he murmured.
Bridget laughed. “I am certain that you do not.”
Did he? Bridget had to concede that Lewis did seem as though he understood a woman’s body and desires. Perhaps even better than she understood her own.
“You sought to vex me,” he said, drawing his hand slowly up her back.
She felt the warmth of his broad palm through the material of her gown. Bridget dared to imagine his strong hands tearing the garment from her body and caressing her bare back. Her pulse jumped, as they continued to dance. Was it her imagination, or did he hold her more closely than other gentlemen had? Was that only because he was her husband, or was there something more to his behavior?
“I did not wish to vex you,” Bridget said.
He smiled, the expression dark and salacious. “Do not lie to me.”
Would lying finally give her the reaction that she wanted?
“I am not lying to you,” she said. “It is disrespectful of you to claim that I am.”
