“I do not want to take a break, but I feel like playing something a little more lively.” Emily drummed her fingers on the pianoforte, playing a few discordant notes that brought to mind a familiar song.
“Perhaps you should play a waltz?” Blake suggested as he caught Jane looking at him.
He pretended he had not noticed, but felt an odd prickle of satisfaction as he felt her look away and back again.
“It is no fun to play a waltz if no one dances.” Emily let out a frustrated sigh.
“Rochester is a rather skilled dancer,” Richard volunteered.
“So I am told.” Blake shrugged and glanced at Jane, who was no longer watching him.
“Will you dance then?” Emily sounded hopeful.
“I would need a partner,” Blake pointed out.
“Perhaps Jane will be your partner,” Cressida suggested.
Jane’s head snapped towards him, her eyes widening. “What? No, we cannot do that!”
“Why not?” Blake raised an eyebrow at her, half surprised by her reaction.
Jane hesitated and then said, “It would look rather odd if it was only the two of us dancing.”
“Richard and I will join you.” Cressida took Richard’s hand in her own. “I have wanted to dance for ages, and at this rate, we will have to wait until our wedding celebration.”
“That is far too long a wait.” Richard grinned at his betrothed. “Come on, Rochester, my future wife demands that we dance, and I refuse to be the only two dancing.”
Blake sighed and held a hand out to Jane. “It seems the decision has been made for us. My dear Miss Pembleton, may I have the honor of this dance?”
“I suppose you can. Though I warn you, I am rather out of practice.” Jane gently placed her hand in his.
Blake smiled but could not resist teasing her. “What, something you are not good at?”
“I did not say I was not good at it, just that I was out of practice.” Jane narrowed her eyes at him.
“Well, you need not worry, I have had enough practice for the both of us.” He winked at her. “And I am rather an accomplished leader.”
“I am sure you are.” Jane rolled her eyes.
As Blake took up the starting position of the waltz, the familiar scent of cinnamon and vanilla washed over him. Jane’s hand was soft in his, and he was very aware of the warmth of her skin as he rested his other hand on the small of her back. He inhaled, willing his heart to slow down. It did not.
Emily began to play, and they danced. To his surprise, Jane moved with an easy grace, seeming almost perfectly attuned to his movements. When he moved to the right, there was no lag. She was there, as though she were an extension of his body.
They were both one and completely separate. His eyes found her brown ones, and for a moment, he felt as though he were lost in them. Something twisted in his chest. His lips suddenly dry, he twirled her around the room, and she followed effortlessly, her steps as quick as the words they exchanged every day.
He never wanted to stop.
I cannot recall anyone dancing like this with me before.
“For someone who thinks she is out of practice, you are rather light on your feet, Miss Pembleton,” Blake could not help but say.
“Do my ears deceive me, or is that a compliment, Your Grace?” Jane smiled, and he noticed a faint flush on her cheeks.
He grinned at her. “It is indeed a compliment. Well spotted.”
“And are you expecting one in return?” Jane asked.
“Do you assume everything I do comes with an ulterior motive?” he countered.
