Ten
She had been waltzing with him for the last hour in the music room, training Kit to say the polite nothings his future dance partners would expect.
He kept impeccable time. He was surprisingly graceful. Those commanding fingers she had first encountered in the stage coach curled around her waist and clasped her hand as he moved her around the room with flawless control.
He was definitely the best waltzer Franny had ever partnered. She felt like a piece of floating gossamer when she’d always been a dancer with more enthusiasm than skill.
A socially awkward man with no physical awkwardness.He’s probably an excellent lover.
She giggled just as Kit complimented her dress.
“What’s wrong with what I said?” He frowned and guided her away from certain collision with the pianoforte while continuing his perfectone-two-three. “I repeated exactly what you told me to say.”
“Yes, you did. And you didn’t look away. First-rate.”
“So why did you laugh?”
“You’re a very good dancer, Kit. Why is that?”
“I had lessons. I’m a good pupil, and the better I did, the sooner the lessons were over, and I could do something I liked.”
“You’re a marvel. Most people can’t be good at something they don’t like.”
He brought her to a stop slowly but didn’t release her. “So I dance well?”
“Very well.”
“How was my conversation?”
“Passable.”
“What’s next?”
“Kissing.”
Suddenly, he crowded her and her back was against the music room’s priceless, elaborate mural. Each of Kit’s enormous hands were flat on the painted wall on either side of her head, his arms caging her in. His breath, sweet with whisky and ginger biscuits, warmed her face. She tipped her chin up and forced herself to meet his eyes. Those wild, hungry eyes.
“Franny.” His voice was deep and rough. “I want to kiss you. Let me kiss you now.”
A beast out of nowhere. Like in the coach with that dreadful man. Like when I said I wanted to take off my stays. Like when he thought I was talking about rutting.
She kept her voice light. “That’s only natural. When was the last time you kissed anyone?”
“I haven’t been with a woman in two years and ten months.”
“So, no wonder. And we’ve been practicing courtship. And we’re alone in the house, in close proximity. But I really think you shouldn’t have your arms like that.”
He turned his head, looking at each of his arms as if they weren’t part of him before looking back at her.
“You might scare the poor girl, Your Grace. You must give her every opportunity to get away from you if she wants to.”
“You’re not scared.”
“No.”
“And you won’t run away?”
“I won’t.”
