Becca cleared her throat. ‘Now, you’re the one following, so you allow your partner to place his hand on your upper back and you hold his other hand. Like this. Your other hand goes on his shoulder.’
Even though Becca was taller, she was allowing Helen to lead. A rare concession, thought Wick. He used the hand he was holding to pull Lady Louisa closer to him. He let go, but only to place his hand on her narrow waist, holding it just above where it dipped in. He longed to run both hands up and down her back. Instead, he took her other hand and clasped it with his. She tentatively reached out to touch his shoulder. Her fingers were as light as a butterfly perched there. He could barely feel the weight of them through his coat. But he sensed her touch with all his body.
‘A waltz is really quite easy,’ Helen said, demonstrating the basic step with Becca. ‘You’re only making a box with your feet.’
Tightening his hold on Lady Louisa’s waist, Wick said, ‘I step forward with my left foot and you step back with your right.’
Lady Louisa bit her lower lip and gave a slight nod.
Leading her, he performed the first step with accuracy. ‘Now, move your left foot sideways and I’ll mirror you with my right.’
‘All right...’ she whispered.
She was a natural dancer, with grace and elegance.
‘Next, slide your right foot next to your left, so that they are parallel but not touching.’
Lady Louisa followed him as if she trusted him instinctively—something that none of his sisters would have done. All four of them insisted on leading.
‘Then you’ll step forward with your left foot and I’ll step back with my right,’ Wick said as they continued through the movements. ‘Now, move back with your right foot and sideways... That’s it! The last step is to move your left foot so that your feet are parallel again.’
Still in his arms, she finally looked him in the eyes as she said, ‘It is a box. A perfect little box.’
Wick couldn’t help but smile down at her. ‘Shall we try again?’
Lady Louisa grinned up at him with her kissable lips with that freckle just above their centre that he was so obsessed with.
‘Please.’
He tightened his hold and repeated the box step once. Then twice. And a third time. As they continued to spin around the room together Wick realised that Frederica had begun to play a waltz and he hadn’t even noticed the sound. He’d been so intent on gazing at and dancing with Lady Louisa he’d even forgotten Becca and Helen, who were waltzing beside them, both attempting to lead, which was turning the dance into a wrestling match.
Wick turned his attention back to his beautiful partner. ‘Did Lady Rockingham give you a reason for not giving you a presentation or a season in London?’
Lady Louisa’s ears turned red again and her neck flushed. ‘I am afraid that my aunt considers me a burden. I can do nothing to please her. My mother left her private fortune to me, but until I am twenty-five there is only a yearly allowance given from my trustees to my uncle for my keep. Aunt Rockingham says that it is not enough for my maintenance, nor for the hiring of a governess or dancing master. That is why my clothes are little more than rags and why my aunt refused to take me to London. She says that she could not bear the expense.’
Wick snorted in derision, shaking his head. ‘According to your pernicious cousin Barnabas, you’re the heiress to over one hundred and fifty thousand pounds. Even if your yearly allowance was only the interest, that would be easily over seven thousand pounds a year. More than enough to dress you like a duchess and employ a dozen governesses, dancing masters, and rent a house for the London season.’
‘Truly?’
He couldn’t help but pull her a little closer on their next turn. She looked so vulnerable. Her body gently brushed his chest and set his pulse racing.
‘Your uncle owns your father’s house in London and I’ve never seen your aunt miss a season. Lady Rockingham is usually drowning in silks and jewels. She must be keeping all your allowance for her own use.’
Lady Louisa’s eyes fell again to his cravat. There was a tell-tale pink in her cheeks. ‘She said that I am too ugly to take to London and that I’m lucky that my cousin is willing to marry me.’
Wick stopped dancing, feeling a sort of primal anger run through his veins. What sort of woman would cheat her own niece out of her fortune? And treat her like less than a servant in the meantime?
‘Believe me, Lady Louisa,’ he said, breathing hard as he pulled her closer to him until their full bodies met together, his hardness to her softness. Her curves perfectly matching his dips. ‘You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. You will be surrounded by suitors in London—and not just because of your fortune and your title.’
Lady Louisa’s eyes were still focused on the folds of his cravat. ‘Will you be one of them?’
‘You won’t need me,’ he assured her, stepping back. Touching her was too tempting. ‘There are plenty of other eligible young men who will appreciate your charms. But first we must take you to your uncle. There will be less gossip if you are staying with a family member, and he will know who your trustees are and how to reach them. Surely they cannot be aware of how you are being treated by your aunt? No man or woman of conscience would allow it.’
‘Will—will you help me?’
He knew better than to give rash promises, but her countenance was so open and trusting that he couldn’t help himself. ‘I will.’
She gave him a shy smile. ‘Lady Frederica said that your parents are in Africa—is this their first visit?’