He turned back to her, the emerald color of his vest glinting under his coat, and held out a hand. “My lady.”
Lanora pressed her lips closed. There was no winning an argument against her aunt, the terriers and Lord William. She crossed to him, then she took his hand, belatedly realizing neither of them wore gloves. The warmth of his palm, skin slightly rougher than her own, sent a heat through her that threatened to reach her face.
“I’m afraid I’m not dressed for dancing,” she said, relieved her tone held steady.
“Nor am I. We must make do.”
Did he have to speak in that low, rumbling tone, his gaze locked on hers as if they shared some secret? He took her other hand, raising it to his shoulder. He dropped his hand to her waist. Her heart beat at an unacceptable rate, making her lightheaded.
“You begin with your right leg,” he continued. “I shall step forward with my left and you shall retreat.”
He pressed his leg to hers. Lanora stepped back quickly. His hands braced her.
“Now across, then together,” he said, moving them through the steps. “The basic step is despairingly simple. The key is to move in harmony. This is aided by music.” He looked toward the pianoforte.
With a start, the maid turned from them. She began to play.
Lord William returned his attention to Lanora, his smile warm. “Now, on my count, we’ll begin.”
Lanora was stiff at first, more because of how disconcerting it was to have him clasping her hand, his other pressed firmly to her waist, than because of the dance steps. She hadn’t properly realized how thin the material of her cream-colored day dress was. She could feel the heat of him through the fabric.
She attempted to concentrate on the steps, but his nearness flooded her senses. The scent ofshaving soap and clean linen. The intensity of his blue-green eyes. His crooked smile under artfully disarrayed curls. How could she learn a dance in such conditions?
“I read that the gentleman must look over the lady’s shoulder except during a turn,” she said. She suppressed a grimace at her breathless tone.
“You mean, if I’m to look at you, we must turn?” He swung her about, her feet skimming the floor as a strong arm pulled her against his body to make the turn.
Lanora’s face heated. She firmed her arms, opening space between them. “I most certainly do not mean that, and I do not believe that’s how I’ve seen other couples dance.”
His smile widened. “So we are a couple?”
“What is it you want from me?” she whispered. He couldn’t possibly imagine she would dally with him, nor could he have honorable intentions toward her. His presence in her home was baffling.
“I want you to agree to a ride in the park tomorrow.”
“My lord, I can’t imagine—”
“Where we may speak with more discretion.”
His eyes darkened with entreaty. Lanora was dismayed by how moved she was to accept. Lord William’s reputation was well earned. He was a dangerous man. That still didn’t explain what he required of her, a duke’s daughter and a virgin.
“Agreeing to a ride will put an end to today’s meeting?”
He winced slightly, but nodded. “My company is so terrible?”
“Your company is confusing and unwarranted.”
“I shall not agree to the second, for you are indeed waltzing.”
Lanora blinked. In her distraction, she’d fallen into easy step with him. They flowed across the room, as if they’d waltzed together many times, as if she knew the dance well.
The music stopped. He stepped away, bowing over her hand. “It has been my pleasure, my lady.”
Lanora curtsied. “Thank you for the instruction, my lord.”
Lord William turned to her aunt with another bow. “Lady Edith.”
“Lord William.” Her aunt offered a nod. “My old eyes appreciated the display. Lanora improved markedly under your tutelage.”
