Nevertheless, he persevered. And honestly, she danced well. Her natural athleticism meant she mastered the steps quickly, though her memory faltered. She wasn’t interested in learning the intricacies of the dances, only the rote steps and for that, she lacked style.
Her sister, on the other hand, started as a shy dancer. She bit her lip as she concentrated, which was adorable. But once she memorised the steps, she began to enjoy herself. She grinned, her happiness obvious. And when Cedric clasped her hand in the quadrille, she squeezed him in a way that called to mind their many kisses. She was a woman who held on, and he liked the idea of that.
Grace was too independent, and he was tired of wooing a disinterested woman. But that was the cost of being an adult. He’d tried all the other ways to make coin. Marriage to money was the only path left to him, and so he refocused his thoughts on Grace.
‘Perhaps a waltz,’ he suggested when it was clear Grace was thinking of other things.
Her father frowned. ‘Isn’t that a scandalous dance?’
‘Goodness no,’ he lied. ‘At least not by most of society. The sticklers will always find something to criticise.’ He held his hand out to Grace. ‘It is an easy dance on a three beat.’ Hedemonstrated the steps. ‘Da, dum, dum, da, dum dum.’ Then he pulled her into his arms.
She went stiff and though neither of them wore gloves, she felt as far removed from him as if she wore thick furs. She was rigid, if not awkward, and when her father took up the tune, Cedric tried to cajole her into a better frame of mind.
‘When you are in London, you will be dancing every night. It is the lifeblood of thetonand every girl’s delight.’
She frowned at him. ‘Every night? But why? I thought my father said I would be with the people who lead the country. Who make decisions about laws and such.’
‘Well, yes. That is what the men do. The women dance. And they talk and make decisions about…well, about what is proper behaviour.’ At least he thought so. He wasn’t clear on what women discussed.
She frowned as she mulled over his words, then she shook her head. ‘It is hard to talk when dancing.’ Then she flashed him a polite smile. ‘But you are kind to teach me. Especially if I must learn it.’
A dismissal if ever he’d heard one. And damn, if that wasn’t the most aristocratic thing she’d ever done. He’d been dismissed in the politest way possible. But at least disinterest was better than disdain, which was where they’d started. So that was progress, right?
He would count this as a win. And so he smiled warmly down at her only to stop as her father began to cough. The man did not sound well and everyone in the room heard it. Grace turned to her father, concern etched in her face. Same for the captain and Lucy, who had been waltzing beside them.
‘No, no,’ Lord Wenshire gasped. ‘Keep dancing. I’ll be fine. In a minute.’ And indeed, his voice grew stronger as he spoke.
Nevertheless, Grace stepped away from Cedric, going to her father to put a gentle hand under his elbow.
‘I’m tired, Father. Perhaps we could talk as I head to my bed.’
A lie if there ever was one, but a polite one nonetheless. Her father smiled warmly at her. ‘Don’t be afraid. I shall live long enough to settle my affairs in London. I won’t die and leave you both stranded.’
Cedric winced. He had no idea if either girl had thought about their future if Lord Wenshire passed unexpectedly. But Cedric had, and he’d brought up the possibility in private with the man. He’d done so honestly, to offer his aid in case the unthinkable happened. Though what he could do to help was as limited as his funds.
Lord Wenshire had not taken it well. He’d dismissed Cedric’s offer with an annoyed wave, but then he’d baldly stated his intentions in front of the girls. Cedric tensed, watching both women closely. If they were shaken by the idea of their father’s death, neither showed it. Grace continued to guide her father to his bed while Lucy promised to search the kitchen stores in hopes of a soothing tea.
As if discussing one’s demise was a natural thing.
Meanwhile, the captain bowed out, claiming he had work to do and the other officers disappeared. That left Cedric alone in the galley while Lucy headed for the kitchen stores.
‘I’ll help you,’ he said because he couldn’t keep himself away from her. He’d been secretly looking forward to waltzing with her even when he knew he shouldn’t.
He followed her to the galley stores. They searched through everything but knew there wasn’t anything there. He had no understanding of herbs so he couldn’t even identify what was there. Her knowledge was equally sparse and so they ended up staring at each other in confusion.
And there he saw her true reaction to Lord Wenshire’s statement. Fear etched hard lines on her face, and so rather thanfruitlessly looking through jars he couldn’t identify, he sought to comfort her instead.
‘Humming likely strained his throat. He’ll be fine after a good night’s rest.’
She looked at him, her eyes hard. ‘Do the ladies in England accept lies so easily?’
He sighed. Polite lies were the stock and trade of theton, but she had a point. Burying her head in the sand would not help her. It was possible that her father would die sooner rather than later, and then she would be alone in a very big world.
‘I swear I will help you if he cannot.’
She dropped her hands on her hips. ‘And how can you help me if all your plans are for my sister?’
It was a peevish statement, but he understood its cause. ‘She will go nowhere without you. You know that.’