“I am wholly unconcerned with it. I've been watching you observe me for the past hour and if I didn't kiss you immediately I was going to do something truly spectacular and inappropriate in front of everyone."
“Such as?"
"Such as crossing the room, throw you over my shoulder, and carry you out of here while declaring to the entire assembly that you're the only woman I want to dance with, now and always."
"That would be dramatic even for you."
"I'm feeling particularly dramatic tonight. It must be the effect of pretending to court a child while the woman I love stands ten feet away with a murderous look etched on her countenance.”
“I have no desire to stain my soul with such a heinous crime.”
He pressed closer, and Clara could feel every line of his body against hers. "She offered to help us."
"What?"
"Miss Ashworth. She offered to maintain a false courtship to give us time to find a solution."
"Why would she do that?"
"Apparently, she wants to avoid matrimony for another season and thinks a failed courtship with me would buy her time."
"And you're considering it?"
"I'm considering anything that might give us more time."
"Gabriel, false courtship or not, you'd still have to appear in public with her. Dance with her. Touch her."
"While thinking of you."
"That's not the comfort you think it is."
He cupped her face in his hands. "What do you wish me to do? Tell me and I'll do it."
"I want you to stop looking for solutions to an unsolvable problem."
"There has to be a way…"
"There isn't."
"Clara…"
She kissed him to stop the words, hard enough that it hurt a little, pouring every knot of frustration and longing into the contact until her chest ached. When she pulled back, their mouths were both wet and unsteady, their breathing ragged as though they’d been running.
“We should return before someone notices we’re both missing,” she whispered, but the words wavered.
“Let them notice.”
“Gabriel…”
“Dance with me.”
“What?”
“Here. Now. Dance with me.”
“There’s no music.”
“We don’t need music.”
