“Quite honestly,” he said, “if you promise not to repeat my words to anyone, I would have to say he is a pompous ass.”
She looked at him incredulously and then they both laughed guiltily.
“It’s time you and I became brother and sister again, I think, Rosa, isn’t it?” he said, opening his arms to her. “Come into the drawing room and share our joy over Anna.”
“Oh, gladly, Dennis,” she said, going into his arms and hugging him wordlessly for several moments.
And so she entered the drawing room with her brother’s arm about her shoulders and was led straight to Annabelle and the Earl of Wetherby.
Annabelle hugged first her father and then Rosamund, who kissed her cheek and hugged her in return.
“I did make my own decision, you see,” the girl whispered to her, “and I am so very happy, Aunt Rosa.” She smiled up at the earl, forcing Rosamund to do likewise.
“My congratulations, my lord,” she said, extending her right hand to him.
But every other lady had kissed him. As he took her hand, she reached up to kiss him on the cheek at the same moment as he leaned down to kiss hers. But it was their lips that met in a brief aunt-nephew embrace that set every nerve ending in her body jangling.
“Thank you, Lady Hunter,” he said, and released her hand.
“Soon enough you will be able to call her Aunt Rosa,” Lord March said jovially, squeezing Rosamund’s shoulder and laughing heartily at his own joke.
“I think not, Papa,” Annabelle said. “Aunt Rosa is younger than Justin.”
Music and cards had been planned for that evening, but it was too festive an occasion for them to be so dull, the marchioness announced. They would have the carpet rolled up and there would be dancing. Lady Carver would play the pianoforte.
And so, Rosamund found, she was forced to dance and be gay. And when there was a waltz and she protested to Robin Strangelove that she did not know the steps and it turned out that he was not very proficient either, Annabelle, dancing alongside them with Lord Wetherby, suggested with uncharacteristic high spirits that they change partners.
“I learned the steps in London last year, Robin,” she said, “and even danced them at Almack’s. And Justin will be able to teach you in no time, Aunt Rosa.”
Rosamund kept her eyes on her feet until she finally caught the rhythm. There was much laughter about them as several of the young people tried the dance for the first time.
She wished she had not learned so fast. She wished she could have spent the whole of the half-hour concentrating on the learning of new skills. But there were the warm touch of his hand at her waist and the long fingers of his other hand curled about hers. And there were his cologne and the distinctive masculine smell of him. And the strong muscles of his shoulder against her hand and beneath her wrist.
And there were his blue eyes when she looked up, eyes that had once watched her as he made love to her.
There was nothing whatsoever to say. And in such a public and confined setting she could not gaze into his eyes. She lowered her own to his neckcloth. And longed for the music to stop. And willed it to last forever.
He was as silent as she until the music finally drew to a close. He held her for just a moment before releasing her. His eyes were smiling at her in the way they had done when they were standing on the steps outside Mr. Price’s house the morning she left.
“Good-bye, Rosamund,” he said so quietly that she felt rather than heard the words.
She did not answer.
Lord Beresford took Rosamund by the hand when a set of country dances was forming.
“There is lemonade next door,” he said. “Take me there before I die of thirst. Or are you one of those determined dancers who cannot bear to miss even one measure of a dance?”
“The lemonade by all means, Josh,” she said.
It seemed that once they were outside the drawing room in the hallway, she could suddenly breathe more easily. She smiled at him.
“You, too?” he said. “A kindred spirit as you always were, Rosamund? To the devil with the lemonade. Go and fetch a cloak.”
She did not argue but did as she was bidden. She did not even argue when he laced his fingers with hers as they stood outside the main doors, and took her in the direction of the formal gardens. All she knew was that she could finally breathe again.
“You were bracing yourself for it in three days’ time, weren’t you?” he said. “It was a shock to have it happen tonight.”
“Nonsense,” she said. “It was arranged nine years ago. What difference do three days make now?”
