“Never said I wanted to be a lady.”
He suppressed a sigh. “Of course not. You merely want to play a part so you can fool all the unsuspecting females you intend to lure here so you may relieve them of their pin money.”
“Yes.” She beamed at him, looking pleased.
It felt as if a massive hand were squeezing his heart. That lovely face sans scowl was undeniably breathtaking. She was maddening. Stubborn. Unique. He wanted her with a ferocity that surprised him. Left him bemused.
He forced his mind back to the subject at hand, which had nothing to do with seducing Miss Genevieve Winter and everything to do with his true reason for being here.
“Learning to dance—and to dance well—is imperative,” he informed her.
He thought she might offer further argument.Good Christ, the woman was more combative than a regiment of soldiers in battle, fighting to the death. However, she offered no quarrel.
Instead, she cocked her head, considering him with those bright-blue eyes. “And how shall we dance without music, my Lord Dunderhead? Never tell me there is a dancing master somewhere in London who also owes you a favor.”
He laughed. “Not quite. But we shall have music nonetheless. What say you, Miss Winter? May I have the honor of this dance?”
He swept into an elaborate bow just as he would on any society ballroom floor.
She did not laugh at him, which was an excellent sign.
When he rose, he found her looking adorably befuddled. Standing there in her trousers, shirtsleeves, and waistcoat, her boots shined, her hair caught in a thong at her nape, she was majestic.
“What do you want me to do, you daft rogue?” she asked.
And nor had she issued an oath. Also promising.
He held out his hand to her. “Come nearer, if you please. We are going to dance the waltz.”
“The waltz?” Her brow furrowed. “What is that?”
“A scandalous dance. You will like it, I promise.” He winked at her, hoping she would play along.
Not just because he did not have more lessons in mind, but because he wanted her to relax. To dismantle her guard. To allow him to hold her close and guide her about the room.
“Forgive me, sir, but my brothers have told me that is the last phrase I should ever believe when issued from a man.” Her gaze was shrewd.
Not wrong, her brothers.
He feigned a cough to cover his startled chuckle. “I am here with your brothers’ blessing.”
“Because their wives are convinced you are not entirely the devil.”
His sisters loved him, and he loved them.Good God, Addy had embroiled herself with Dominic Winter to save him, and though he would have stopped her, he still appreciated her efforts on his behalf.
“And what do you suppose, Miss Winter? Do you think I am entirely the devil?”
“I am not afraid of you, Marquess.”
Dare he be hopeful at her lack of insulting sobriquet?
“If you are not afraid of me, then prove it,” he urged, sensing the opportunity. Miss Genevieve Winter was like a gamble herself. Only this time, he was wagering his pride instead of his funds. “Dance with me.”
Her lips tightened with displeasure. She was reluctant about this, there was no doubt. But she sighed, the sound steeped in resignation.
“Very well. Just this once, and no more.” Miss Winter took a step nearer.
“Closer,” he urged, trying to stay the furious rush of desire within.
