Hunt called for the first dance, a waltz, a silent encouragement for the guests to find partners. Pulling Ariadne into his side, he dipped his lips to her ear. “How did you organize this ball?”
“Cleverly,” she said. “With Lady Hamden’s help, I invited mostly married pairs but exactly ten single lords and ten single ladies. I wanted to make sure no one was left out. Clara is a jewel in a coal mine because she knows all the gossips, rumormongers, and rakes in the ton and made sure to strike them from the list.”
Cedric nodded to where Silas was speaking to Celestine; the girl looked like Silas had hung the moon. Celestine curtsied and took his hand before Silas swept her off to the floor. With delight, Ariadne saw that Marigold and Isolde also had partners—then across the room saw a flash of red hair.
The same man she and Isolde had seen at Hyde Park. She grabbed at Cedric. “Do you know who that man is?”
His brows creased as he pulled her to the floor as well. “Who are you referring to?”
“The lone redhead in our home,” she said giddily as the violins leaped to life and the beautiful strains filled the ballroom.
He took her into his arms as they began to dance. Holding her in this way was another form of intimacy because he rarely danced. He swung her, and she swiveled, and the movement of her spine under his hand felt so sensuous.
“I have no idea,” he said. “Why do you need to find out?”
“It was the impression I felt coming from Isolde when she saw him that day,” Ariadne’s lips tilted wryly.
“I’ll find out,” he said. “I must tell you that I have not danced in a long time, so forgive me if I fumble a bit.”
She giggled. “That is, if I don’t step on your feet first.”
In his previous life, the year before his first marriage, Cedric had danced with many women, too many to count, but this, being with Ariadne, was another experience for him.
Dancing was no longer a simple matter of stepping to music or making chitchat to pass the time or thinking about other things he’d rather be doing.
Holding Ariadne in his arms, staring into her unparalleled eyes, he felt a rightness that he’d never felt before, a movement he had not expected to feel.
Christ, the way she looked in that dress. Her loveliness made a chaos of his mind. She laughed breathlessly as he took her into a spin, and he caught glimpses of other men staring at her.
When the dance ended, it required all his willpower to let her go. He wasn’t ready to relinquish their moment of privacy, public as it had been. The need to be with her felt urgent, overwhelming.
“People...everyone is looking at us,” she whispered.
“Let them look,” he said, peering down at her, his eyes somber.
“Do you like dancing?” she asked.
“I used to,” he replied. “But after the fire, it was not something I felt was important. Matter of fact, I am surprised I haven’t tripped over my face by now.”
“You’re giving yourself a disservice,” she said. “You are incredibly light on your feet.”
“Thank you—” he spun them again in a dizzying set of turns that she floated through. He spun her in several sweeping arches before bringing her back closely, too closely for society’s rule. “—for stroking my pride.”
“Is your pride as high as your stubbornness?” she asked. “I may work on that next.”
He turned them again, expertly crossing behind Silas and Celestine, his face pensive. “You never look at me with fear or disgust.”
“Why should I?” she asked. “For heaven’s sake, it’s scars. It is not a contagion, nor is it a blight on the soul; it is not a description of the man beneath. It is just ruined skin, ruined skin that is a testament of you doing something brave and right, and nothing else.”
The rest of the room seemed to fade from his awareness as they stared into each other’s gazes, never once breaking that connection.
“Do you not see how Emily looks at you?” She asked. “She only sees her father, not your face.”
“She does do that,” he replied.
His hand slid lower, onto the curve of her spine. As the music rose in crescendo, he twirled them, and she clung to him. When her eyes met his, he could see the laughter there, and she floated in his arms, with him cherishing every moment of it.
The last strains of the melody lingered in the air as he held her tight before reluctantly stepping away and inclining his head instead of bowing. Ariadne did curtsy before he wrapped his armaround her middle and whisked her away to the refreshment room
