“All right,” she said.
William had danced a hundred waltzes in rooms like this one and had never once thought about his hands.
He thought about his hands now, the one on her waist and the one holding hers. He thought about the precise distance of a proper waltz, which was close and not close enough.
He was aware of both facts and found the combination instructive.
She danced well. Of course, she danced well. She did most things well, and the ones she did badly, she did with enough conviction that it barely counted.
“You’re quiet,” she noted.
“I’m dancing.”
“You’re capable of both simultaneously. I’ve seen you.”
He looked down at her. The candlelight caught the blue of her gown, the earrings she wore, and the slight shimmer on her perfectly shaped lips. Her eyes were very clear.
“Do you know?” she asked quietly.
“Do I know what?”
“Why I walked alone that morning. In Brighton.”
“No, tell me.” He pulled her a little closer than the dance warranted.
She looked at him for a moment. Then she looked past his shoulder at the room.
“Beatrice and I had been up since four,” she said. “The baby was restless. And Beatrice…” A slight pause. “Beatrice had been talking to me about Mr. Alderton.”
“Who? A suitor?”
“One of several,” she replied. “Though she was particularly persistent about Alderton. He was very well-regarded. Excellent estate in Wiltshire. Kind face.” She mentioned each qualification as though reading from a list. “She wasn’t wrong about any of it. That was the problem.”
“Then what was the problem?”
“He was perfectly suitable, and I felt nothing whatsoever,” she murmured. “Beatrice was telling me that feeling was a luxury I was no longer in a position to indulge—she wasn’t wrong aboutthat either and the room was small, and the baby was crying, and I…I” She stopped and took a deep breath. “I needed air. I needed somewhere I could stand without someone expecting an answer from me.”
“So you went to the shore.”
“I went to the shore.” A small, wry smile. “Alone. At five in the morning. Without a chaperone. Which I thought at the time was the most irresponsible thing I had done in several years.”
“And then you found a duke lying in the tide.”
“And then I found a duke lying in the tide,” she echoed. “Which rather put my irresponsibility into perspective.”
He led her through the steps of the dance. For a moment, she was way closer than the waltz strictly required, yet he did not adjust the distance.
“Were there really six ?” he asked.
She looked at him. “ Six what?”
He knew he should not ask. He was asking anyway. “Suitors.”
Something moved in her expression—amusement, recognition, something else. “Why?”
“Curiosity.”
“Yes, six,” she said. “That we officially acknowledged. There were others that didn’t reach the formal stage.”
