AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Then dance with me, James.”
His eyes darkened, and he took her into the perfect position, sliding his arms along hers to hold her by the elbows, then tugging her into the invisible strains of the waltz. Verity hummed, and they glided around the room, at first with some measure of awkwardness and then with such commanding poise and agility he stole her breath. How long they rotated and spun she could not say, but when they halted, they were both laughing like dolts.
Looking up at him she clapped. “I have been deceived, James, you are a wonderful dancer! This lesson has been wonderfully diverting. Are you to attend Lady William’s midnight ball in a few weeks? I daresay by then we should master the grand waltz, and the quadrille. It would be the perfect place to ask a young lady to dance, someone of your liking of course, and perhaps you should endeavor to pay her a compliment.”
His grunt of irritation implied he was not in accord with that plan.
She sent him a perplexed glance. “Or perhaps not to dance?”
“The way we move together, Verity, I would be most astonished if such perfection could be accomplished with just anyone.”
The unexpectedness of this admission took her breath away. “James…”
He bowed. “Accept my thanks for a most agreeable evening, Verity. I believe tonight’s lesson has been imparted. I shall call the carriage for you.”
Before she could question his sudden coolness, he’d already turned away, making his way for the entrance. She stared at his retreating back, an unknown hunger crawling through her. And at its heart there was also a sadness.
What do you want from me, James? And why do I want to give it to you, more than I’ve wanted anything in my whole life?
Chapter 10
Six weeks and two days had passed since Verity had appeared on the earl’s doorstep. She had been instructed several times thus far in the art of fighting, and she had been horrified this morning to note the slight development of muscles in her upper arms. She felt fitter, more confident, and less afraid. It was as if with each lesson, she vanquished the lingering dread.
Their unorthodox friendship flourished with each titillating secretive encounter, and Verity’s admiration for James grew to an astonishing degree. A gentleman is thought to be of top quality through education, refinement, polished manners, a considerable degree of charm, and the productive management of his inheritance. With each passing reflection, which Verity admitted was terribly often, she’d deduced James was more than a gentleman.
He truly existed in a class of his own, and the appellation could not stand alone to describe James. He was charming, kind, thoughtful in his manners and civility, yet at times mercurial and abrupt, with layers to his character Verity presumed would take her years to understand. He challenged her, encouraged her, and always lent a listening ear whenever she vented her frustration of the tiresome nature of the season’s frivolities, the gossip sheets, and the hurtful distance with her family.
Verity waited for the earl in his brightly lit library. A decanter of sherry had been rested on the mantle along with whisky. She removed her hat and veil a
nd lowered herself into the plush sofa. She had arrived at James's townhouse at her usual time, but he had not been present. That had been a first. Tonight's lesson was to be a continuation of the art of intelligent conversations with a lady of society. This had proven the most challenging aspect to James, for he wished to discuss politics, past wars, the economy, horse racing, and even fishing.
When she had suggested he could soften the tension by commenting on the weather, his muttered, “Good God!” had been filled with such horror she had laughed and admitted such conversation could be intolerable but seemed to be the expected norm. That evening they had engaged in such lively discourse, the night had ended without their lesson.
That was becoming too common, and she was determined to honor her part of the bargain. Even though the awareness of what he might do with the knowledge hurt somewhere deep inside. The ending of their arrangement hovered. Only last week they had decided to reduce how often she sneaked away from her home to be with him. Mamma and Albert were becoming irritated with her various excuses to be absent from social events.
There had been a rout-party last week, Albert had been most adamant she should attend. Verity went and had been alarmed that her brother was seeking a political connection with the hostess’s father. The man had to be thrice Verity’s age! The pressure from her brother to depart his household had increased dramatically, and the sense that she ought to find a gentleman to her liking and be pleasantly receptive to his advances lurked in her convictions.
Yet Verity only saw James. Her nights were no longer beset by terrible nightmares. All dreams led to James’s kisses and sometimes eccentric charm. Charms he would use to woo a lady of quality. With a scowl, Verity dismissed thoughts of James courting another lady and opened a copy of a gothic which she had plucked earlier from his extensive library. The clock on the mantle struck, and she glanced up. It was almost nine. Footsteps echoed in the hallway, and she lowered the book as the door opened.
“Forgive my tardiness,” he said brusquely. “I had another matter to attend.”
“James, is all well?” she enquired, noting the slight stiffness in his frame.
He raked his fingers through his hair, and there was an air of anger surrounding him. “Well enough. I believe we should allow for this lesson another time. It is already too late.”
She stood, frowning at his dismissive manner, and moved closer to him. Verity stared at his hands. “Upon my word, James, you are bleeding!”
She hurried over to him and grabbed his hand, lifting it for her inspection. With rough irritation, he pulled it from her. “It is nothing!”
“I can’t for the life of me conceive why you are acting so boorish,” she snapped sharply. “Please tell me what happened?”
“I was in a fight,” he replied with curt incivility.
“And?”
A scowl darkened his face. “There is no more.”
Verity dropped his hand with an irritated huff, ambled to the mantle and poured whisky into a glass. Once back at his side, she reached into his top pocket for his handkerchief. “You have worn my patience very thin already, please be more forthcoming.”
