Christian tried to ignore her laughter and her lily scent and concentrate on his lesson. “I hope your lovely friends here won’t mind if you take a turn dancing with me. Can you spare her, ladies?” He bowed to her imaginary friends.
“Yes, thank you. I would love to dance,” Sarah said prettily.
He offered his arm and she placed her hand on his.
“We’ve no music,” he pointed out when they walked over to stand in the open space between the table and the sofa.
“Use your imagination. Pretend a waltz is playing.” She held out her hands as if they were about to begin a waltz.
Christian took a deep breath and pulled her into his arms. He spun her around in time to music that was only in his head. Sarah apparently knew the song because she began to hum the exact one he’d been thinking of.
“How did you—?”
“I told you, I’ve done this quite a lot. I’ve been learning to dance since I was barely out of leading strings.”
They danced for a bit and Christian tried to ignore the lily scent of her hair and the soft feel of her in his arms. He reminded himself that he must concentrate on his witty repartee. That was what they were about, wasn’t it?
“Lady Kate isn’t as pretty as you are,” he whispered, leaning down so she could hear.
Sarah slapped at his arm with an imaginary fan. “That’s horrid.”
“Lady Mary isn’t either,” he said with a wicked grin.
“You are insulting my friends, sir.” She raised her nose in the air.
Christian stopped for a moment. “You don’t truly have friends named Kate and Mary, do you?”
“No,” Sarah said with a wink. “I invented them entirely.”
“Good.” Christian exhaled. “I’d hate to be insulting real people. Insulting imaginary ones is amusing, though.”
“How are you enjoying your evening, Mr. Forester?” Sarah asked, obviously intent upon resuming their lesson.
“It’s better now that I’m inyourcompany, my lady.”
“You do know how to flatter a girl,” Sarah said, with more eyelash batting.
“It’s impossible not to flatter one as lovely as you,” he replied smoothly.
“Hmm.” Sarah stopped dancing. Christian stopped, too.
“You’re doing a fine job,” she said.
“Dancing?”
“Yes, but I was referring to your speech. You obviously have no problems being charming.”
He snorted. “I’m glad to hear you think so. Was my repartee witty enough?”
“I think so.”
“Was my speech enticing enough?”
“Quite.”
“It’s because we’re just here, you and I, in my home in Scotland. There’s nothing intimidating about it. No reason to be shy or uncomfortable. When I’m in London, however, things will be different.”
“The answer to that particular dilemma is simple.”
