She blinked, then turned her chin up. She even saw that Susan was equally shocked, for she struggled to cover up her expression of amazement just as she took a glass of champagne from a nearby maid, in danger of tipping the glass over.
Margaret elbowed Charlotte in the ribs when she had stayed silent for too long.
“I am free,” she managed, slightly strained for her mother had inadvertently elbowed her rather hard.
Margaret was utterly delighted, waving the two of them off with little flicks of her hands. Susan looked ready to step between them, to somehow stop it, but Margaret was the one to take her arm and hold her back on this occasion.
Charlotte felt her breath stutter as she took the duke’s hand, and he led her toward the other dancers. They waited at the edge of the floor for the last song to finish, staring at one another.
“You did not have to do this,” she whispered to him.
“Surely it would be rude of a gentleman to turn ye down,” he teased her, smiling at her. “I would have thought ye’d be pleased I was payin’ attention in our lessons.”
“Yet you have said before you have no liking for dancing. You do not have to,” she said again, though she had not released the hold she had on his hand.
“I cannae do this type of dancin’.” He nodded his head at the lively cotillion that was just finishing. “But a waltz, dancin’ in such a way that requires me just to keep ye safe in me arms, aye, I think I can manage that.”
A pleasant sort of warmth and shudder passed through her. Unable to say anymore, she simply smiled at him.
When the music changed, he led her onto the floor. They bowed and curtsied to one another, then they stepped forward and took hold, with a hand each clasped together, and one of her palms resting on his shoulder, as his other rested softly on his waist.
Neither of them said anything as the music began, they both just kept staring at one another. His height meant they traversed the floor with great ease, though she was also aware of the great care he took in the dance, avoiding any possible collision with another dancer.
“I like the gown,” he said after a minute or so.
“Thank you,” she whispered in a rush, her hand tightening on his shoulder. “And I have not had chance to thank you for it yet. Thank you, so much. I love it, more than I can say. I cannot believe you even took such notice over the gown when I was staring at it in Covent Garden.”
“I have me strong points. Aye, there arenae many of them, but perceptiveness is one of them,” he whispered and winked at her.
For some reason, she didn’t mind him winking at her anymore.
“Something is wrong,” he whispered as they continued to dance.
“I am smiling at you.”
“Yet by now, ye would have challenge me or teased me back. I ken ye a little by now, lass.” The way he called her ‘lass’ sounded so affectionate these days, she didn’t object to that either. “Somethin’ is keepin’ ye down. Is it yer friend? Has somethin’ happened to her?”
“No.” She shook her head. “No, I believe she got away well enough.”
“Good. Then what is it?”
“It’s hard to explain.” She didn’t want to tell him she was feeling lonely. How mortifyingly embarrassing would that be? To confess that in a crowd of people, she felt completely alone, as if she stood on the edge of them all?
“Then maybe I shouldnae push for an answer. Instead, I should push for a smile.” His hand shifted a little on her waist, and she became very aware of the strength in that hand and yet how delicately he touched her.
I feel so safe here with him.
“Or will ye refuse to smile just to toy with me?” he asked her, offering a playful frown.
“I do not toy with you.”
“Oh, ye do. Frequently.” He nodded, sweeping her across the floor with ease. “Ye are fond of counterin’ me in every argument. I half wonder if ye disagree with me just for the sake of it.”
“I do not.”
“Were ye disagreein’ with me?” he teased, raising his eyebrows.
She smiled in spite of herself, and his eyes flashed with triumph.
