His long, elegant fingers curled around hers, warm and strong, his fine kid gloves as smooth as cream under her fingertips.
And for a moment, just one, breathless moment…
She might have followed him anywhere.
Chapter
Thirteen
Euphemia Templeton didnotknow how to dance a waltz.
James had half-suspected she was exaggerating her ignorance— he’d never met a lady more likely to diminish her accomplishments than Euphemia was —but this time, she’d been telling the truth.
When the dance called for the left foot, she invariably began on her right. She slid when she was meant to step, confused the direction when she turned, and shifted sideways when she was meant to come forward.
She was perfectly awful, yet it was the most delightful waltz he’d ever danced.
It wasn’t at all charitable of him to find her confusion so charming, to revel in her stuttered apologies, but her blushes were so adorable that his lips insisted upon grinning, despite his every attempt to maintain a dignified expression.
“Let’s start again, shall we? Place your hand on myrightshoulder, and… er, no, you’ll begin on your left foot, so it should be in front… yes, like that. Now, rest your fingertips in my left hand, and?—”
“Lord Fairmont?”
“Yes, Miss Templeton?”
“I beg your pardon, but you’requitesure your right arm is meant to be behind my back, with your hand, er… justthere, are you not?”
It was the third time she’d asked, and every time his palm found the soft place between her shoulder blades, a tiny tremor passed through her. It was either extremely flattering or extremely humbling.
He wasn’t certain which.
“I am indeed, Miss Templeton. I assure you, this is the proper pose for the second position, but if it’s unacceptable to you, then perhaps we could?—”
“No, no. It’s perfectly acceptable. I beg your pardon, my lord. Do go on.”
“Very good. Now, as we move into the third position, you’ll turn to face me, and… no, the other direction, Miss Templeton.”
She bit her lip, her cheeks coloring. “I did warn you I’d be hopeless at this, my lord.”
“You’re far from hopeless, Euph— er, Miss Templeton. You’re simply learning, that’s all. Now, we’ll be facing each other in third position, like this.” He turned her to his left, so her back was to the window. “You see, I still have your hand in mine?”
“I— yes.”
Was she a trifle breathless?
“Is your right foot forward?” His voice was a bit husky, and he was obliged to clear his throat. “Yes, very good. As we move into fourth position, you’ll raise your right arm over your head and clasp my left hand, then we’ll execute a half turn to the right, and— no,myright, Miss Templeton. Careful, or you’ll?—”
But his warning came too late. She turned to her right just as he lifted his arm, and somehow, his elbow struck her temple. “Euphemia!”
“Ouch.”
It wasn’t a sharp blow— thankfully, his coat provided some padding —but it caught her off guard, knocking her back a step.
She stumbled, her feet tangling underneath her. “Oh, dear. I do beg your pardon, my lord.”
He caught her upper arms and pulled her into him, steadying her against his chest. “Good God, are you alright?”
“I-I think so.” She was rubbing a spot near her right eye. “Although I do feel a bit as if I crashed into a tree.”
