“I feel as though I’ve missed out,” he said, ducking under the rope himself with effortless grace. “Perhaps next time.”
“You’re a cad,” she said.
“Proudly so.” He broadened his stance and lifted his hands up. “Now, show me if you recall what you’ve leaned today and punch my palms.”
She lifted her brows. “You want me to punch you?”
“No, most definitely not. I’ll hold my hands up, you try to hit them square in my palm.”
She shifted with discomfort. She’d never struck another person in her life, palms or not. But Sebastian seemed certain, so she moved into the stance he had taught her earlier in the lesson and took a deep breath.
“Perfect,” he said softly. “You are perfect.”
She blinked at that statement. He meant her form, she supposed, but the compliment still hit her in a deeper way. She pushed her giddy, foolish reaction aside and swung, connecting with his palm with solidthwack.
“Very good, Marianne!” he crowed, sounding as excited as she felt. “Steady yourself a little more. Pivot your hips as you turn, that is what puts the power in your punch.”
She adjusted herself and swung again, hitting him in the center of the palm again with a louder reverberation. He was grinning fully now, his blue eyes dancing. “Again!”
She did, over and over, each time gaining more confidence. Finally, she put all her body weight into the throw, hit his palm and her feet tangled, sending her forward with the momentum.
He caught her under her arms as she collided with his broad chest and tugged her a little closer to keep her from falling or knocking him down. It felt like everything in the room, even her heartbeat, came to a sudden stop as she stared up into his face, which was now mere inches from her own. To her surprise, he was looking down at her with the same intense focus. His gaze slipped to her mouth and a riot of sensation rushed through her body at that motion.
Sensation that only increased when he began to lower his mouth toward hers. Was he going to kiss her? Right here in the middle of the big parlor, with sunlight streaming across them like a spotlight, with his arms around her and her chest flush to his? She found her eyes fluttering shut in anticipation as she lifted her lips.
But he didn’t kiss her. It felt like forever passed and then he gently set her back on her feet and steadied her as she opened her eyes, heat flaring her cheeks.
“You…it’s easy to get excited,” he said, his voice a little shaky. “And lose your balance. So you set your feet each time, careful of your environment so you don’t make a…make a mistake.”
She stepped back, hoping her humiliation wasn’t clear on her face. God, he had to have known she thought he’d kiss her. She hadn’t been subtle about it, offering herself to him like some silly wanton.
But of course that hadn’t been his intent. She wasn’t the kind of woman he wanted. She was just…Marianne.
“Yes, I see,” she said. “You know, this has been wonderful. I’ve enjoyed it far more than I thought possible. But it’s getting late in the afternoon and I must return home. I’m certain you have better things to do, as well.”
“Yes, of course,” he said, and moved to the ropes where he pushed them wide and offered his hand once more for assistance, though he turned his head away. This time when she took it, she shivered, for his touch meant more after what had just occurred between them.
Or not occurred. Nothing had occurred after all. Just her foolish imaginings.
She smoothed herself back into place as she reached the ground and forced herself not to watch him come out of the ring after her.
“Let me take you to the foyer and ask for your carriage to be brought around,” he said, motioning to the door. She followed him, this time not walking beside him as they made their way back down the twisting halls to where she had begun her day. He gave his instructions to the servant there and together they stood, suddenly awkward as they waited for her vehicle to come up from the stable. She searched for something to say that would return their banter to normalcy, return their friendship so he’d know she wasn’t upset or going to do or say something foolish.
“Are you…are you going to the Brighthollow ball next week?” she asked.
He blinked. “Er, I suppose so. I think I recall an invitation from the duke and duchess in the pile yesterday. I assume that means you will be in attendance, as well?”
“Yes. My aunt will wish it. She is obsessed with this new batch of ducal marriages that have flooded Society in the last year or two. All true love, it seems.” She shifted and wished she hadn’t said the last. “At any rate, I suppose I’ll see you there then.”
The carriage mercifully came and she clamored up as soon as the step was lowered, without waiting for assistance from either Sebastian or any of the servants. Sebastian stepped forward and closed the door himself. The window was open and he leaned in slightly.
“I look forward to it, Marianne. I hope you’ll save a dance for me.”
She nodded and he stepped away, tapping on the carriage side so that her driver would go. But as soon as she exited his drive, she sank down a little lower in her seat. She should have been more than satisfied with what she’d done today. She’d crossed off another item on Claudia’s list and in the end Sebastian had returned to his normal self, at least in word.
But there was something that felt so off about everything between them now. Something had shifted when she’d believed he was going to kiss her, but he hadn’t. She feared what that would mean.
She looked down at her hands clenched in her lap and realized for the first time that she was still not wearing her gloves. Sebastian had removed them. He’d put them in his pocket.
