She would, however, blame him for thinking about resigning his job—if it was true, of course, and she was by no means convinced it was. Though Lady Gosforth had seemed quite sure.
How could he even consider such a thing? He loved his work.
She reached the green saloon just as someone played the opening chords of a waltz on the pianoforte. Maddy eased open the door and peeped in. And watched transfixed.
The carpet had been rolled back to make a dance floor. Tibby, Mrs. Delaney, was at the pianoforte.
Two couples stood on the floor, ready to commence. Jane and Susan were partners. Jane bowed and Susan curtsied—both very nicely, Maddy thought proudly. She’d taught them, as Grand-mère had taught her. The girls wore their pretty new dresses. Their faces were bright with concentration and excitement. Maddy smiled mistily. Her little sisters, growing up before her eyes, preparing for their new life.
Oh, yes, indeed, she would marry Nash Renfrew. To secure this future for her little brothers and sisters she would probably have married a gargoyle.
But Nash Renfrew was no gargoyle. She watched him now, tall and elegant and as handsome a man as she’d ever dreamed of. He bowed gracefully to his very diminutive partner.
Lucy made a deep, wobbly curtsy, then bounced up in triumph. She gripped his hands and carefully climbed onto his feet, standing with one small foot on each large boot. Maddy swallowed.
“Ready?” Nash asked the little girl.
Lucy nodded. Tibby played the opening bars and off they danced, tall man and tiny girl standing on his feet, her little hands clinging to his in an excited death grip.
They circled, first in a very slowclump-clump-clump,clump-clump-clump, then faster and faster as Lucy became used to the rhythm and the movement. Soon they were stepping to the music, then twirling around the room.
Maddy’s eyes misted up. Lucy was so proud, so thrilled. Once, Nash swept her up in an arc through the air and she squealed with delight, then he settled her deftly back on his boots and they continued as before.
“Maddy, Maddy, look at me, I’m dancing!” Lucy caught sight of her and shrieked gleefully. “Me and Mr. Rider are dancing a waltz!”
Maddy laughed and clapped and nodded, halfway to tears.
Even if she hadn’t already fallen head over heels in love with Nash Renfrew, watching him now with her little sisters, she fell in love with him again.
Do you love my nephew?Of course she loved him. How could she not?
The music finished, and again, Nash made an elegant bow. Lucy, a little dizzy from the dance and also from the excitement, began a curtsy, wobbled, then landed with a bump on her bottom.
She looked up, dismayed. Her lower lip quivered, but before she could burst into mortified tears, Nash bent and swept her up in a dizzying arc, whooshing her high above his head, and twirling her around until she screamed with delight again.
He deposited her on chair saying, “Thank you for the dance, Miss Lucy. Miss Jane and Miss Susan, well done, you were grace personified and a credit to your teacher, who is clearly brilliant.” They giggled, as he’d intended.
“And now,” he turned to Maddy with a gleam in his eye, “for your older sister.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Renfrew,” Tibby interrupted, “but we must finish now.” She blushed slightly. “I need to feed my son.”
“Yes, of course,” Nash said. “Thank you, Tibby, for playing so beautifully for us.” The girls, to Maddy’s pride, chimed in with their thanks.
“I’m sorry. It’s my fault for coming so late,” Maddy said. “Girls, it’s nearly four o’clock, and Mrs. Deane and Lizzie will be expecting you in the nursery for the final fitting of your dresses for the wedding. I’ll be up later.”
Tibby and the girls left and suddenly the room was too quiet, too empty. Maddy wiped her palms nervously on her dress, hoping the trepidation she felt didn’t show. But if his aunt was right and he was considering resigning his job, she had to talk to him about it at once.
“I can manage without music.” Nash held out his hands to her, his blue, blue eyes smiling. “It won’t hurt a bit, I promise.”
She swallowed. Maybe she should get the lesson over with first. And then talk. “All right.”
“You put this hand here.” Nash placed her hand on his shoulder. “And I place my hand here.” Just above the curve of her waist. His fingers were inches from her breast.
She pulled back, frowning. “Ladies and gentlemen don’t touch when they’re dancing, except for their hands.”
“That’s why the waltz caused such a scandal when it first appeared in ballrooms. Now it’s so widely accepted only the dowdiest prudes refuse to dance it.”
She would not be a dowdy prude. She gave a curt little nod and moved back into position.
