“I’m hopeless,” she said, wiping sweat from her brow as the four of them prepared to wrap up for the day. Eve was putting the cover back on the keys on the piano and Leah was drinking a glass of water, which a maid had brought for them.
“No one is hopeless,” the dancing instructor corrected her severely. “You just need more practice. With rigorous practice you may end up… decent. True skill and élan, of course, are rare.” He inclined his head at Leah. “Lady Leah is a fine example of a lady with natural talent to spare. But you, Your Grace, may yet become proficient. But you must dedicate yourself.”
“But we leave tomorrow for London!” Emery cried out hopelessly. “When am I supposed to dedicate myself?”
The dancing instructor shrugged. “Tonight, I suppose.” And he gave her a penetrating stare that she suspected had been usedto shame many a student into practicing harder. “It’s up to you, Your Grace: do you want to waltz or do you not?”
And the vision came to her again: of being held in the arms of a man she loved, waltzing through a crowded ballroom, so lost in the dance and in his eyes that everyone and everything else melted away, until it was just the two of them, completely and utterly absorbed in their love. It was all she had ever wanted, and even if it had now been taken from her forever, she couldn’t help but want to conquer waltzing, if it might at least allow for some part of the fantasy to be fulfilled.
“I do,” she said, and the dancing instructor gave her an approving nod, which surprised her a little after how furious he’d been with her throughout the lesson. “Then practice, Your Grace!”
Chapter Fifteen
“Ihope things will slow down once we’re in London,” Lucien muttered to himself as he closed the door to his study behind him and pinched the crown of his nose, trying to wake himself up. “I won’t be able to accompany Leah anywhere if there remains this amount of work to do.”
When he’d announced earlier that he had to work and couldn’t stay for the dance lessons, he hadn’t just been trying to escape the awkwardness of Leah, Eve, and Monsieur Souverain walking in on him with Emery. (Although that hadcertainlybeen awkward!)
Lucien really did have a lot of work to complete, and now, as he walked back to his bedroom through the quiet, empty halls of the castle, close to midnight, he was exhausted. His eyes hurt from staring at ledgers, and his hands were aching from writing instructions to his estate agent, answering invitations to different balls and parties in London, and ordering everything that they would need for a whole Season in town. He should have done most of these weeks ago, but the number of things he hadto do had really piled up, and he hadn’t had much time to devote to his duties, seeing as how every waking hour seemed to be filled up with preparing Emery for her London debut.
I really am debuting two young ladies on thetonthis Season,he thought, shaking his head.The only difference is that one of them is already married.
Lucien rubbed his eyes and let out a sigh.It will be over soon. We’ll be in London, and Emery will either sink or swim; our familial reputation will either be saved or ruined.He’d done all that he could, now he just had to put his faith in his family and in Emery. Which, if truth be told, he rather did. His opinion of her had gone up so much over the past few weeks.
He was just passing the ballroom when he noticed that the door was slightly ajar and that a thin stream of candlelight was coming from inside. Pausing, he took a step closer, and that’s when he heard it: the unmistakable sound of someone inside, moving around the room on light--but not noiseless--feet.
Lucien smiled to himself. He knew who it was. The tread of the feet on the floor gave it away.None of my sisters, after all, would make so much noise while dancing.
Going to the door, Lucien pushed it open a little more and peeked inside. Sure enough, there, in the middle of the dancefloor, her arms held up as if wrapped around a partner, and her eyes closed in concentration, was his wife. She was dancing by herself, the waltz, from the look of it. And as he looked closer, he realized her lips were moving as well: she wascounting her steps as she moved back and forth, by herself, over the polished wood floors.
For a moment, he stood in the doorway, watching her. Despite the fact that it was odd to see a person dancing by themselves, she looked very graceful. He’d never suspected she was a natural dancer, but just looking at her, he could tell that she moved with all the grace of a proficient dancer. And in the candlelight, which cast a warm, flickering light over her milky skin, she looked ethereal. Her hair had been let all the way down, and it fell in luxurious waves all the way down to the small of her back, shiny and black, glinting in the candlelight like an inky black pond in the moonlight.
He was reminded of a nymph that had slipped through the veil from the next world to this one, only to steal a moment alone in a Duke’s castle, dancing with her invisible love.
Goosebumps shuddered down Lucien’s spine and up his arms. He’d never imagined something like this before, had never even spent a moment thinking about nymphs since he was a child, and the image surprised him.
That’s a very elaborate and romantic backstory for a man like you, who despises romance so much, to come up with.
Emery had said that to him just the other day. It had startled him, and he’d rejected the idea that knowing a few tropes of the romantic genre made him a romantic, but now, here he was, imagining that his wife looked like a nymph dancing with some long-lost love.
I'd best say something to her. Before I come up with something else that is even more ludicrous.
He took another step into the room. Still, she didn’t open her arms, and seemed completely unaware of her presence. A slight smile creased her lips, and he wondered whatshewas imagining, in that romantic head of hers.Probably something even more elaborately romantic.The thought made him pause. What was it that his wife thought of when she thought of romance? Why hadn’t he asked?
Maybe it’s time to find out.
“That’s not a dance that’s traditionally dance alone,” he said, his voice low and warm, breaking the spell of the moment.
At once, Emery’s eyes snapped open, and she gasped in surprise, her hands coming to her chest as to still her rapidly beating heart. Then her eyes found his, and she dropped her arms to her sides. At the same time, a flush came to her cheeks.
“How long have you been there?” she asked a little breathlessly.
“Not long,” he said, a small smile playing across his lips. “Just long enough to see that you are a very elegant dancer.”
Emery laughed, a little sadly, and shook her head. “I wouldn’t say that.”
“Why not?”
“The dancing lesson went horribly.” She looked down for a moment, then back up at him, a resigned look on her face. “Monsieur Souverain was very harsh--but of course, he was right to be. I was terrible. My footwork was all off, I kept tripping over my own feet, and I was stiff and awkward.”
