Page 14 of A Game of Hearts

Emma looked up at him in surprise, and found herself caught in his grey eyes. The rest of the room seemed to fade away as they moved together, and she saw something in his expression that made her breath catch.

“Very good!” Monsieur Girard’s voice broke the spell. “Now, we shall attempt the more complex turn. Ladies, you must trust your partners completely...”

Trust her partner completely? Emma almost laughed at the irony of the dancing master’s instruction. Lord Limnwood might dance divinely, but trusting him with anything beyond the physical steps seemed unwise after yesterday’s harsh words.

Yet as his hand tightened slightly at her waist, preparing for the more complex turn, she found her body responding instinctively to his lead. They moved together as if they had danced this way a hundred times before, her skirts brushing his legs as they turned.

“Magnifique!” Monsieur Girard cried. “You see? When partners trust each other, the dance becomes as natural as breathing.”

Emma felt Lord Limnwood’s breathing shift, making his chest rise and fall which also made his arm at her waist move infinitesimally, and wondered if his breathing really was as unsteady as her own. Surely it was just the exercise affecting them both?

“You make it easy to follow,” she said softly, then wished she hadn’t as his eyes met hers again.

“Do I?” Something flickered in his expression. “Despite my rigid adherence to proper form?”

“Perhaps because of it.” She surprised herself with the honesty of her response. “There is... security in knowing exactly where one stands.”

His thumb moved against her waist again, and this time she was certain that it was deliberate.

“And where do you stand, Miss Everton?”

Before she could respond, a crash from nearby made them both jump. Lord Henry, attempting the complex turn, had managed to tangle his feet with his partner’s skirts, sending them both stumbling into a pedestal holding a magnificent Chinese vase. Only Lord James’ quick dive prevented disaster.

“I believe that is enough for today!” The Duke’s voice held barely suppressed laughter. “Perhaps some refreshment in the drawing room? Monsieur Girard, you have been most instructive.”

The dancing master bowed, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like a prayer of thanksgiving in French.

Lord Limnwood’s hand lingered at Emma’s waist a moment longer than strictly necessary as they parted. She stepped back, curtseying automatically, trying to slow her racing heart.

“Miss Everton.” His voice was oddly rough. “Might I...”

He stopped as Lady Anne appeared beside them.

“My Lord, you must tell me if I held the proper form during that last turn. I would so value your opinion.”

Emma saw his jaw tighten slightly.

“I fear that I was too occupied with my own partner to observe others, Lady Anne.”

Something warm bloomed in Emma’s chest at his words. She turned away to hide her smile, but not before she caught an answering gleam in his eyes.

“Emma!” Lady Beatrice hurried up. “I’ve left my sheet music somewhere in the music room - would you help me find it before tea? You know how particular Mama is about me keeping track of my music.”

“Of course. Lord Limnwood, thank you for the dancing. I will take my leave of you now.”

Emma welcomed the excuse to escape before Lady Anne could make any more pointed comments. But she was intensely aware of Lord Limnwood’s gaze following her as she left the room.

*****

The music room was blissfully cool and quiet after the heat of the ballroom. Afternoon sun slanted through tall windows, catching dust motes in bars of gold. Emma moved to help Lady Beatrice search through the papers scattered on the pianoforte.

“I was sure I left it here...” Lady Beatrice frowned. “Oh! Perhaps I left it in the drawing room this morning. I’ll just run and check.”

She hurried out before Emma could respond. Left alone, Emma found herself drawn to the instrument. Her fingers drifted over the keys, picking out the melody they had waltzed to.

“I did not know that you played.”

Emma’s fingers stilled on the keys at Lord Limnwood’s voice. She hadn’t heard him enter.