“How romantic,” Isla murmured, her cheeks flushed with color.
“Romantic?” Hugh quipped. “Strikes me as downright nightmarish. As does the factuality of giving dance lessons while there are men out there seeking you harm.”
Honoria jerked her head around, her gaze slamming into her brother’s. “And what do you expect us to do, Hugh? Sit in a circle and pray? Roam the castle walls aimlessly until our brothers’ return? There’s nothing we can do but take our minds off the matter, or devise a plan to do something about it.”
“I prefer the safety of our fortress,” Hugh remarked, his face sour.
“Then dance, we shall,” Honoria snapped, turning back to Lash.
She was a wee bit antsy, still staggered Mr. Ross had caught them in a compromising position—and done nothing. She wondered if it had anything to do with Isla, who frequented the stables a lot lately.
“Proceeding further,” Lash murmured with the clear of his throat. “We must increase the speed motion. I will clap my hands and you will dance to that rhythm.”
Honoria and Isla gave eager nods. It seemed easy enough. So far they had been exemplary pupils. Had made no mistakes. The beat of Lash’s hands clapping together, however, proved remarkably deceptive.
Honoria could not hold the beat. She shut her eyes, attempting tofocus.
And failed.
Spectacularly.
She missed steps, her arms jerking in wild gestures, her hips mechanically jutting sideways instead of swaying sensuously. She tried harder—one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve—toe – heel – heel – toe – flat. And harder—one, two, three, four, thigh, kiss, seven, eight, nine, chest, eleven, twelve, thirteen.No, that was wrong.One—
Hugh’s laughter peeled off the walls.
Growling, Honoria shot her brother a fuming look before sparing a sidelong glance at Isla, whose lips were pinched in concentration. Her sister appeared to have a better time of it.
She hadn’t thought they would excel from the start, it took hours of practice to learn any dance, but this was beyond frustrating. She wanted to look as sensual and exotic as their instruction had, not flail about like a fish out of water.
“You are not focusing,” Lash murmured, appearing at her side. “Here, draw from my beat.”
Honoria observed as Lash began to dance while counting the steps in his deep, foreign baritone, doing her best to follow his beat. He made it seem effortless, confident of his place, of his ability with each step. The man was a dream.
After a few tries, she discovered it far more painless with him counting, freeing her mind to focus on the dance. Och,andfreeing her imagination to envision his powerful arms holding her, along with all sorts of other indecent touches.
The heat of his proximity caressed her skin. His scent enveloped her, making her dizzy. Honoria found she suddenly had a profusion of embers igniting inside her, and it was all for him.
Their eyes met and held.
Hugh’s groan broke their spell. “Why am I the only one not learning this dance and yetI’mthe one feeling awkward?”
“Perhaps if you joined us instead of acting the surly Highlander, you might have some fun,” Isla remarked.
“Our definitions of fun are at odds,” Hugh groused. “And if I’m surly, it’s the effects of the whisky wearing off.”
“Och, well, if you are going to be prickly as a bear, go find yourself some honey to sweeten you up,” Honoria suggested.
“And shirk my duty as a chaperone?” He laced his arms around his neck and propped his boots on the rectangular walnut stool. “I don’t think so.”
Honoria huffed a breath, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. “Nowyou’re acting the protective brother.”
“Are you going to admire Ruthven all starry-eyed the entire day?” he countered.
“I do not have stars in my eyes,” Honoria denied.
Lord above!Wasshe gawking at Lash with stars in her eyes? Was it written across her face,I kissed him shamelessly in the stables and wish to do so again? How humiliating.
“I must be imagining things,” Hugh drawled with a lazy stretch.
