“Fine,” he drowned his drink in one gulp.
Rupert began playing again, but this time, the tune was lighter, more ethereal. As though he were playing for a garden of fairies.
Archer elegantly drew his left foot forward, pressing his torso to hers, leaning her back ever so slightly. She could feel every muscle in his body tense up with how closely they were molded together. And then they began to dance.
It was not like when they had danced before. This time, it was as though their bodies had melded, that rather than being two dancers they were one.
Archer rested the side of his head against her and whispered softly in her ear, “One, two, three. One, two, three.” He took her around the room in a quick box step.
“You really are an excellent dancer,” Lydia complimented.
“It’s all about leading and following. And this time… this time….” He swallowed. “… there is trust.”
Lydia’s heart beat in time to the music, and a thrill of excitement shot through her body as Archer spun her away from him, letting her go and then pulling her back against him. The world spun, and she couldn’t help but let out a delighted laugh.
As the music came to its crescendo, Archer dipped expertly. He was breathing hard, as was she. Lydia could not tell if the sound of a beating heart was hers or his.
“You are a dancer now, my darling.”
The words sent small butterflies twirling around in her stomach, a feeling she was all too familiar with. However, she suddenly felt a cold chill sweep through the room as everyone froze.
What effect the wine had had on her husband quickly dissipated, and like waking from a dream, he had the look of a rude awakening on his face. He pulled Lydia up abruptly and stepped back.
“I’ll leave you ladies to practice,” he said shaking his head. He marched out of the conservatory with his uncle fast on his heels.
“What was all that about?” Lydia asked to no one in particular.
No one met her gaze. Juliet began fussing with the glasses. Lydia strode towards Cora, knowing that she was the one who would give her an answer.
“Why is everyone behaving as though we have committed a great sin?” Lydia asked looking towards the door her husband had disappeared from.
Lady Cora responded quietly, “Darling was always Father’s pet name for Mother.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
“Icalled her my darling. Oh God.” Archer leaned his head against his hand, his heart hammering wildly. “This cannot be happening. How did this even happen?”
How can I stop this?His head spun, but he knew it was not from the drink. He stumbled, the wind whipping at his face and neck with a ferocity that nearly drove him to his knees. He tugged his coat closer around him.
He moved deeper into the grounds, hoping the cold air would seep into this bones, would wake him from whatever was wrong with him.
“Archer!” He could hear Lydia’s voice, but he was sure he was dreaming.
He walked faster, wanting to lose himself to the storm. To escape her. He could still smell her familiar perfume; it clung to him just as the feel of her warmth seemed to sink into his bones.
“Archer! Archer, for goodness sake. Stop.” He felt a hand on his arm, and he whirled to find himself staring into Lydia’s eyes.
“What are you doing out here? You don’t even have a coat on!” He glared down at her, standing before him in only her evening dress.
“I didn’t have time. I saw you stumbling into the storm and feared you would get yourself killed.” She tugged on his hand. “Come back to the manor.”
“Leave me alone.” He shook her off. “Go back home; I don’t want you freezing to death.”
“Then come with me. Because I am not going anywhere until you are beneath that roof.” Lydia pointed to the vague outline of the manor behind them. “I will stand here all night, and the pair of us can freeze to death, or you can stop being such a wool headed goat, and we can talk by a fire.”
Archer threw up his hands in frustration. “Will you never listen to me?”
“No. Just as you won’t listen to me. All we will do is out stubborn each other. And it will probably get us both killed.” She crossed her arms over her chest, her lips blue with cold.
