“Nicholas?” she asked.
He shook his head, pushing aside the thoughts that kept intruding whenever she was too close. Or too far. Or too friendly. Or too reserved. Whenever she was…her.
“Small talk and agreeable conversation is what is required in these situations,” he said with a shrug. “And I am not particularly good at either.”
“This conversation is very agreeable,” she said with another smile. “Perhaps you had the wrong companions.” She leaned a little closer. “I saw you with Lord Sweeting a moment ago.”
“Sweeting!” Nicholas gasped out. “That is his name. I forgot it immediately.”
She giggled into her palm. “Lucky you. He’s most disagreeable. He was once a friend to my—”
She cut herself off and he frowned. She was going to sayhusband. Another viscount. One Nicholas had hated almost as much as Sweeting.
“Well, I agree the viscount is not someone I’d want to count as a friend. I suppose I can’t now. I offended him.”
Her eyes went wide. “How so?”
He stared at her, unwilling to tell her what Sweeting had said about her and make her more uncomfortable. But she was waiting for an answer, waiting for him to fill the silence between them.
“Would you dance with me, Lady Lovell?”
She caught her breath at the question and her gaze flitted down his body. Toward his cane.
He shook his head. “I will balance myself by holding you, if that is your worry.”
“That was never my worry, Nicholas.”
Chapter 9
As the swell of the waltz filled the air, Aurora stepped out onto the dancefloor with Nicholas. They’d only danced together once all those years ago, at a ball at her late father’s house. She’d found Nicholas watching on the terrace and taken his hand. They’d danced together in the moonlight and everything in the world had seemed possible.
Now he placed a hand on her hip and she felt the pressure of every finger through her gown. He stared down at her, eyes locked with hers, as they turned into the first pivot. He was not as smooth as he had been that long ago night. His injury was evident. But none of it mattered.
When he touched her, when he held her, nothing mattered but him. That, if nothing else, hadn’t changed.
They spun around the edge of the dancefloor once more, and Aurora caught a glimpse of Lord Sweeting. Nicholas said he’d offended the man, but had refused to say why. Now Sweeting smirked at her, and she caught her breath.
Could it have beenherthey were discussing so seriously a short time before? God, she hoped not. Nicholas already thought so low of her. The tales of her exploits at the Cat’s Companion certainly wouldn’t make that better. Unless…
She looked up at him.
Wasthatwhy he’d been so angry with her on the drive? Did he know about her being caught at the brothel all those weeks ago? Did he judge her as the rest judged her, for what they saw as a fall from grace?
Her heart sank at the thought.
“You know, you look very troubled for a woman dancing a waltz. Am I so unpracticed?” he asked, smiling at her.
The smile filtered her worries away for a moment, and she laughed. “Quite the contrary. You are still a fine dancer.” She worried her lip. “Does it…hurt?”
The smile faded a fraction. “A bit here and there. I’ve become accustomed to the pain, in truth. It’s far better than it was just after the injuries.” He shook his head. “I’m not the same, but I’m still…whole.”
“Of course you are,” Aurora said, and meant it. “Anyone who thinks otherwise is a fool.”
The music had begun to fade, and she realized soon he would release her. They wouldn’t dance together again tonight—it would cause too many whispers if they did. So this was it. Her last moments of touching this man until the next accidental graze of fingertips or brush as they passed each other in hallway.
She tried to memorize it all as she stared up into that handsome face. The warmth of his presence against her, the smell of leather and pine that made her entire body feel tingly, the weight of his fingers and the sure way he guided her as they moved. She drew in a long breath and tried to paint a portrait of this moment in her mind.
His lips parted, his pupils dilated, and suddenly it was only them. Forever them.
