Of course, to refuse would cause much more gossip. She didn’t like being manipulated when they had an agreement. She returned her attention to him and politely smiled. “Of course. It would be an honor.” She rose, not unaware that Lady Garmoyle had paused and was engaged in conversation by another guest.
Andrew held out his arm, and she set her hand on it as they walked to the center of the room where other dancers had lined up to dance the Quadrille. At least it wasn’t a waltz. He walked her to her place, then stood opposite her in line with the other men.
As the dance began, she curtsied, he bowed, and they began the pattern. She had to wait until they came side-by-side before she could express her displeasure. “This is not what we agreed to.”
He leaned his head in, keeping his voice low. “One dance will not set tongues wagging. To not dance with an eligible Mabry would cause far more curiosity.”
They separated, turning to others. She smiled politely as was expected. If that was his reasoning, he’d best dance with more eligible women. Though that also unsettled her. When they came together again, she looked at him to express that exact thought, when he caught her gaze with his own and a new vision burst upon her.
The acropolis. He needed to be standing on the acropolis, not a god, but a hero, a champion. Her fingers moved of their own accord. She could see it!
“Am I right?” He raised his brows.
With the vision before her, she simply nodded, no longer caring what they conversed about.
He looked forward again. “Try not to step on Lord Ravenshire’s toes.”
His warning forced her to focus on what she did as he left her side again. She kept her smile on Lord Ravenshire but itched to tell Andrew that she knew what the painting would look like. Why did she have to see it in the middle of the night, in the middle of a dance?
Finally, they came together again. As he placed her hand on his arm she squeezed, but kept looking forward as required. “I saw it. The painting.”
“You did? Now?” His voice sounded as breathless as she felt.
“Yes.” She smiled widely, caring not if people thought she was in love or some silly notion like that. She just had to share this with him. “You will be standing, powerful, triumphant.” As she said the words, she saw a lion standing with him. “With an animal.”
He leaned in. “A dog?”
She breathed out. “A lion.”
She felt his arm beneath her hand jerk before he spoke. “Yes, next to me.”
It wasn’t the words, but how he said them, that told her he saw the vision too. She looked at him. “I want to start now.”
They broke apart again, but she didn’t feel that they were apart. She could feel his presence even when not looking at him. It was a strange sensation, but a pleasant one.
Finally, the dance ended, and she curtsied.
As he led her back to her sister, she cocked her head to look at him. “Is tomorrow possible?”
He met her gaze with a smile. “I hope so.”
When they reached Mariel, they found her frowning. She immediately sat next to her sister. “What is it?”
Mariel shook her head. “I fear our sister is going to make a scene.”
“What?” She looked in the direction her sister faced and grinned. The music had started up again and Joanna’s skirts were moving as she obviously tapped her toe beneath them. That was a sure sign she’d be dancing soon. “It’s hardly a scandal for a married couple to dance.”
Mariel continued to frown. “No, but it’s not appropriate when so many young couples are present and the dance floor is limited.”
She glanced at Andrew, who grimaced.
When had Mariel become such an old woman? She was barely twenty-six. Amelia turned to say just that when she caught sight of Lady Garmoyle approaching. “If you really want someone to frown about, take a look.” She nodded toward the woman making straight for them.
Andrew immediately bowed to her. “Lady Amelia, it was a pleasure. Lady Beaumont.” With that he turned and disappeared into the crowd.
She wished she could do the same, but it was no longer possible as the lady in question bore down upon them.
“There you are.” The unwelcome woman stopped, slightly out of breath.
