1
“Shall we dance, my lady?”
A warm tremor passed through Nora as she took Lord Hampshire’s outstretched hand. “Thank you, Lord Hampshire,” she said, aware that both her mother and sister stood nearby, no doubt watching this interaction with careful eyes. “I should be delighted.”
It had been a month since their first introduction, and within that time, Nora had been drawn, by slow and undeniable degrees, to Lord Hampshire. When he had come to take tea for the first time, her mother, Lady Somerset, had declared him the handsomest gentleman in all of London and had spoken aloud of her hopes that Nora would soon find herself wed to him. Nora had laughed at this, telling her mother that she thought that a little too hasty, whilst, at the same time, harboring the very same hopes.
“The waltz has always been a dance I enjoy.” Lord Hampshire’s hazel eyes warmed as he stepped back to bow. “But to dance it with you makes it all the more wonderful.”
The ballroom was stifling. Candles blazed in their hundreds from the twin chandeliers overhead, their flames doubled in thegreat gilded mirrors that lined the western wall, so the light seemed to come from everywhere at once. Beeswax and warm perfume thickened the air until drawing breath felt like drinking in the heat itself. Nora could feel the press of the crowd at her back — the jostle of satin sleeves, the murmur of gossip that ran beneath the music like a second melody — but all of it receded when Lord Hampshire turned toward her.
The first notes of the waltz rose from the orchestra in the gallery above, and something in her chest tugged gently in answer. He held out his gloved hand, and she placed her fingers in his, feeling the slight pressure of his thumb even through two layers of kidskin. His other hand settled at her waist with a steadiness that belied the quick pulse she could see at his throat, just above his cravat.
They did not speak immediately. The opening bars demanded movement, and he drew her into the turn with a confidence that sent her skirts sweeping across the polished floor. The candlelight threw their shadows long and then short again as they moved through the pattern — his face lit gold, then half in shadow, then gold again. She caught the faint scent of his cologne, something green and sharp, like crushed leaves on a wet morning, and it was so particular to him that her step faltered.
Around them, the other couples were a blur of silk and broadcloth, their faces indistinct. The room might have been empty. When he finally spoke, Nora could feel the warmth of his breath against her temple, close enough that his words were meant only for her and no other.
“I have thought of this for weeks,” he admitted. His voice was low, almost rough at the edges, and the sound of it ran through her like warm water. “I confess I am half afraid that any moment now, someone will tap my shoulder and tell me I have been dreaming.”
She smiled up at him, and something in his expression softened — a loosening around his eyes, the faintest exhalation of held breath.
The final bars of the waltz arrived too soon, drawing them gently to a halt. Nora felt the loss of the music in her body before she heard the silence — the sudden stillness of his hand at her waist, the loosening of his fingers around hers. Around them, the ballroom rushed back in: the murmur of voices, the clink of glasses, the shuffle of dancers returning to the edges of the room. But for one suspended moment, neither of them moved.
“As always, it is my great honour to dance with you, Lady Nora.”
As the last few notes from the waltz faded, Nora was forced to step back out of his arms, sighing as she did so. “And I with you, Lord Hampshire.”
“Might I escort you back to your mother?” Lord Hampshire leaned towards her, his eyes twinkling gently. “I think they might be to our left, which means we should begin our walk towards them from our right.”
Nora laughed at this, her pulse quickening as she accepted his arm. “I can see no wrong in that,” she agreed, as his smile grew. “It might take us some time to find them again in this throng – but I know you will keep me safe.”
“I most certainly shall. You can have no doubt about that.”
When he gave her his arm, Nora was quick to settle her gloved hand on it, wishing silently to herself that the waltz had lasted a few minutes longer. Each dance with him was precious, permitting her to speak with him alone and without interruption – but how quickly such moments passed! It was always a frustration for her when their time came to an end, and on this evening, especially after such a sweetness as the waltz, Nora was all the more reluctant to step away.
“Permit me to lead you.” Lord Hampshire, ever attentive yet overtly conscious of propriety, began to walk carefully, weaving through the clusters of guests and making certain not to knock into any of them. No one gave either Nora or Lord Hampshire more than a passing glance, much too busy with their own discussions or considerations. Many other gentlemen were leading the ladies they had been dancing with from the centre of the room, dutifully returning them to their chaperones. Nora hoped that, to the ton’s eyes, she was simply another young lady being escorted from the floor – albeit taking a much longer path back towards her mother than was required!
“Lady Nora?”
She looked up at him, catching the flicker of earnest hope that flickered across his expression, his smile almost tentative as she held his gaze. “Yes?”
“I – I pray that you will not think me overly bold, but I should very much like to come to call upon you tomorrow, if I may.”
Her smile was immediate. “By now, Lord Hampshire, surely you are aware that you would always be welcome to call upon me.”
“Am I?” The quiet vulnerability in his voice made her eyebrows lift in surprise. Was he truly as uncertain of her welcome? He had come to call upon her on more than one occasion already, igniting the hopes of both Nora and her mother that there might be something more building between them. “Why yes, of course you are,” she said, wondering if there was some doubt in his heart, something that perhaps she had said or done that had given him an improper impression of her desire for his company. “I am always delighted to see you, I assure you.”
“I am glad indeed to hear you say such a thing.” When he smiled at her, the resulting rush of warmth swept into her cheeks like a flame catching from a single spark. No doubt he was nowvery clearly aware of how his nearness affected her, since she could not prevent the heat stealing across her cheeks!
“I should not be questioning you as I am.” Lord Hampshire shook his head and looked away from her. “It is only, perhaps, that I am hopeful that my presence might mean a little more to you than other gentlemen whom, I have no doubt, come to call upon you also.”
The desire to tell him the truth about all that she felt rushed over her like a wave crashing upon the seashore, covering her completely. Steadying herself with a breath, she paused and turned to face him, bringing them both to a gentle halt near the edge of the room. “Mayhap it is now my turn to be frank, Lord Hampshire.” Tall, sweeping shadows fell across them, providing something of a shelter from inquisitive gazes, although Nora knew they did not have long to speak.
“I am always glad to be in your company, truly.” Her voice wavered as she spoke, aware that her words were bold and determined, telling him more than she had ever anticipated saying. “To have more of it, to have more of your presence is a delight to me for whenever the butler announces your arrival, my heart is filled with happiness that no other can bring.”
The smile that unfolded across his face sent a weakness through her. Everything else seemed to fade; the conversations from the other guests, the final strains from the orchestra, and the laughter of those nearby all became nothing more than a whisper in the background. Nora looked up at Lord Hampshire, a tremor running through her gloved fingers as he continued to hold her gaze, a gentle smile still gracing his lips.
“Nora.”
