Of the waltz.
In his arms.
Sweet heaven, it was glorious.
In all the excitement of the preparations, she’d nearly forgotten what it was like to be held by him. To feel the grip of his fingers and the muscular bunch of his thighs. They weren’t supposed to touch leg to leg, and they didn’t for the most part. But even at a proper twelve inches apart—which truthfully, they weren’t—she was still aware of the strength of his legs and the thrust of his steps. Forward. Backward. Sweeping her about the room until she began to smile from the sheer exhilaration of it.
“That’s better,” he said as he smiled at her.
It took her a moment to realize that he meant her expression, not the motions of the dance. “Do I look terrified?”
“No. Do you feel terrified?”
“I did. I was.”
“And now?”
Now she wanted him to kiss her. Now she was thinking of brandy in her bedroom and the press of his body against hers. “Now I hope this dance will never end.”
He tightened his arms around her, drawing her even closer. She went easily, abandoning herself to the heat of his body as he moved them about the room. She found his rhythm, she matched his steps, and then she laughed. How had she lived this long without dancing? How had she ever preferred a book in her laboratory to spinning about a room in Trevor’s arms?
He slowed. His steps faltered, and then they stopped. But he didn’t stop staring at her. And she did not step away from his arms.
The music had ended. Some part of her was aware of this, but he was there, and she was so close to him that she knew when he breathed. Whentheybreathed.
Her heart stuttered, her chest squeezed tight, and her breath caught.
Something was blooming inside her. Something tender and horrifying and powerful all at once. It was there, swelling in her though she was terrified at the change in her soul. She was a quiet girl. A country girl of science, and yet… And now…
She felt it burst through her consciousness like a blow to the head. Or perhaps a blow to her heart because that organ abruptly lurched inside her.
Love.
She was in love.
And while she stood there gaping at him, he turned his eyes to the crowd. It took some moments before she heard what he did, before she saw what absorbed his attention.
Clapping. The crowd was clapping.
Apparently, she was a success. Everyone was smiling at her, the newest sensation of theton.
“That’s done it,” Trevor said with pride.
“Done what?”
He extended his arm, ready to escort her to her position on the edge of the dancing floor. Already there were a dozen gentlemen lining up to greet her.
“You’re a success. And now the real work begins.”
“What?” She stumbled slightly, but he held her safe. “What work? I thought this was the hard part. This launch that made me a sensation.”
“That was Eleanor’s hard part. This is mine.”
She looked at him, too many conflicting emotions rioting inside her. She was still reeling from this burst of love. She had no understanding of what he meant.
“Trevor?”
He turned her, lifting her hand to press yet another kiss onto the back of her glove.