“It is, a little,” he said, coming forward. He wore a dark coat and a darker waistcoat. Then he stopped at a sensible distance. “And before you scold me for laughing, allow me to remark that it is rich to seeyouworry about being found somewhere unwise.”
“We do not need to bring up that incident again.”
“But it is amusing,” he replied. “You were perfectly agreeable about getting caught in a scandal before, and now look at you.”
“It was before I understood what the repercussions were,” she admitted honestly.
“Always so innocent.”
“But trying to learn,” she asserted herself. That should count for something.
“We are not going to be caught.”
“You cannot be sure.”
“I can be very nearly sure.” He tipped his head toward the shadows. “My man is in the passage. Mrs. Walsh believes I am reading Plato until one. Plato is a reliable alibi. No one in England wishes to ask me about him.”
She huffed despite herself.
“I am… sorry.”
“For what now?”
“For that night. For walking into your room. I did not truly understand what a scandaldoesexcept… move a person. I have regretted it every hour since.”
“Then you have paid for it,” he said, without drama. “You needn’t pay me as well.”
“It was…” She swallowed. “It was my fault.”
“It was our misfortune,” he corrected, the smallest curve at one corner of his mouth easing. “If I were the sort to be angry, I would be angry with Fate. And she never apologizes.”
“I am apologizing now.”
“I accept,” he said crisply. “Now that you have relieved your mind, may I relieve your feet?”
“My feet?”
“Your dancing,” he said, and his smile went almost wicked. “Come. We will begin with posture. I am told you have been attempting to make friends with the floor.”
“I was avoiding your toes.”
“Consider them insured,” he said, and offered his hand. “Tonight, we practice steps and… being looked at without flinching.”
She did not take his hand at once. She rubbed her fingers against her palm, then slipped them into his briefly. He let go themoment he placed her where he wanted her, the center of the floor, between two tall windows.
“If we are caught,” she said, because her mind was a stubborn thing, “we will…”
“…wave Plato at the intruder,” he said. “He is dull enough to repel almost anyone. Stop looking at the door.”
“I am not looking at the…”
“You are learningwhereto look,” he said. “But you keep checking exits. For the next hour, the exit is me.”
She made a face.
“Arrogant.”
“Accurate,” he said again. “Now. Feet under you. Not out. Own your ground.” He adjusted the line of one foot with the gentlest pressure of his boot against her slipper. “There.”