“She called it ludicrous!”
“No, she called you ludicrous. She called your speech twaddle.”
Sadly, Gwen had been absolutely right. In fact, her destruction had saved him from making a fool of himself before the House of Lords. “Gwen was being mean,” he finally said.
“That still doesn’t explain why you’re scowling now. And look, now you’ve forgotten you’re supposed to partner with Miss Cork.”
“What? Damn.” His sister was correct, and there was poor Miss Cork staring at him as if he’d just murdered her dog.
Bowing his goodbye to his sister, he hurried over to the neglected lady and tried to make up for his mistake. He did a poor job of it, and while he tried to tease her into forgiving him, his gaze kept wandering back to Amber.
She did look lovely in that gown, but it was the lion in her hair that drew the eye. Unless, of course, one wished to look at her face. At the sweet curve of her cheek or the impish shape of her nose. Was that her laugh, dancing above the notes of the orchestra? Or had he completely lost his mind? What was he doing thinking such things of a tradeswoman who was simply a means to getting his resolution passed? Albeit a fascinating tradeswoman with a laugh that made his heart lighter at the sound.
He resolved to think no more of her but failed completely at that. And then finally it was time for their waltz. He should have claimed all her waltzes, but that would have set tongues to wagging. He had to be content with this one dance when he could pull her into his arms. She stood stiff at first, and she bit her lower lip as if she were nervous. But then he squeezed her hand, and her gaze shot up to his.
“My lord?”
“Do you know why I love the waltz?”
She shook her head. “I only learned it a few hours ago.”
He smiled. The orchestra was starting. “It’s because I can do this.” He tightened his grip, and he started moving them around the dance floor.
It took her a moment to settle in. Dancing required strength—of which she had a great deal—and trust—which he had to seduce her into giving him. He did that by smiling at her, by getting lost in the light in her eyes, and by knowing he was the perfect guide in this. He knew how to hold her, how to match his steps to hers, and how to time even his breath so that they flowed together.
It was exhilarating. Not just the dance, but the way she slowly surrendered to him. By the end, her head was tilted slightly back, her hips were nearly touching his, and they moved like they were flying.
Then the music ended, and they slowed to a stop. He held her still, looking down at her. Her cheeks were flushed, and her lips parted to release an ecstatic sigh. She would look this way after lovemaking, he realized. Only she’d be naked, and he would be seated inside her.
The idea made his body tighten with hunger as lust surged through his blood. But he didn’t act on it. He didn’t even move. He just stared at her and yearned for something more. Hewantedher.
He could seduce her. There were ways. She wasn’t a gentlewoman, and the consequences for him would be minor despite the threat from all those protectors of hers. She would keep it secret from them if she enjoyed it. If she wantedit as much as he wanted her. Plus, he could make it worth her while financially. But the idea was heinous, and he was ashamed of himself for even thinking it. And yet, she stood there like temptation incarnate, and he was not at all sure he would refuse.
The couples broke apart, and a new set was forming. He had another dance partner, as did she. He released her hand and waist, but he didn’t step back. He couldn’t force his feet to move. Not until he was jostled aside by her next partner and nearly fell sideways into his own.
It took an act of will for him to drag his mind away from her and focus on the woman before him. And then he had to keep doing that as Amber danced the night away. She even had a different partner for the midnight buffet. In the end, he had to remove himself from the situation entirely. He stepped into the card room, and though he didn’t play, he listened to the gossip and tried to drum up support for his resolution.
It didn’t work. He couldn’t focus. So, he went back out into the ballroom and danced with every wallflower there plus a few of the matrons. Every girl who was not the one he wanted, until finally, blessedly, the evening was done.
He gathered Amber from her last dance partner and set her arm upon his forearm as if he were tethering her to him. “Did you have a good evening?” he asked.
“Oh, yes,” she breathed. “Though you were right. My feet hurt abominably.”
“It takes endurance to dance all night.”
She nodded. “But I don’t want it to end.”
Neither did he, though he could wish that they occupied themselves in other ways than here. More private, personal ways.
“Where is your sister and mother?” she asked.
“They left hours ago. Diana to see how her husband fares, and Mother to a different ball.”
“There was another?” she asked.
“Scores. Mum usually goes to three in an evening.”
“Three?” she gasped as she pressed her palms to her flushed cheeks. “I can’t imagine that many in one night. One was more than enough.”