He must have sensed her staring, for his gaze came to rest intently upon her. Briefly, they watched each other, to the point where it almost seemed improper, yet Clara could not tear her eyes away. Not that she was feeling brave or daring. To the contrary, she was dumbfounded and completely stuck, like a butterfly with its delicate feet caught in honey.
Gracious, but he is handsome.She knew it in the unexplored depths of her being, even though he wore a mask.
He wasted not a single second. He set out on a path toward Clara, his eyes never veering from hers. She sucked in a short, shaky breath, oblivious to whatever Mrs. Gunther was going on about. All Clara could do was watch that beautiful man saunter like a lion across the floor, his shoulders broad beneath his jacket, his gait slow and sure and languid.
He stopped before her, said nothing, and held out his hand.
Mrs. Gunther stopped talking. She saw the gloved hand beside her and turned to look at the man who belonged to it. He simply nodded at her, then lifted his hand another fraction to pull Clara out of her stupor and boldly indicate that he wanted to dance.
In complete silence, Mrs. Gunther stared at the gentleman. Clara could only presume that her chaperone was caught in the honey, too, for though her lips were parted, no words were coming out of her mouth.
Laying her gloved hand in his, and without an introduction, Clara allowed him to lead her onto the floor.
She picked up her train and looked into his eyes, and they glided harmoniously into the waltz. They went around the room a few times before he spoke.
“You’re a fresh face at one of these things.”
“I’ve only just arrived from America,” Clara replied. She would have liked to add “my lord,” or “sir,” or maybe even “Your Grace,” but without the introduction, she didn’t know what to call him.
His lips twitched with what looked like pleasant surprise. “America, you say. How wonderful. Permit me to welcome you to our shores.”
“Thank you,” she replied.
This was not at all how Clara had imagined this night would begin.
“I’m visiting my sister,” she told him.
He did not ask who her sister was.
They continued the dance, swirling around the room with such fluid grace, that Clara did not feel the least bit dizzy. Her partner was by far the most skilled dancer she had ever encountered. His hand held the small of her back firmly yet lightly, guiding her around the room as if she were as light as fairy dust.
When the waltz ended, they came to a graceful finish near a tall potted fern. Another waltz began—a slower one—and her partner inclined his head at her. “Shall we dance another?”
Again, she was surprised by this blatant disregard for the rules of etiquette. He should be returning her to her chaperone by now. She glanced over at Mrs. Gunther, who was trying most unsuccessfully to look at ease. Clara remembered the old adage, “when in Rome,” and decided she should simply follow this Englishman’s lead.
“I would be honored.”
They moved into position again, and a shiver of excitement moved through Clara as his hand returned to the small of her back. He led her into the center of the ballroom, where they moved about at a more relaxed pace.
“I must say,” he commented, in a deep, sultry voice, “you are an extraordinary dancer. I was fortunate to have found you before some other man. I believe I would like to keep you.”
Clara laughed. “You cannot keep me.”
“Ah, but I wish I could. At least until you tire of me and send me on my way.”
Clara felt a hot thrill at his flattery. “Sir, you are flirting with me, quite shamelessly.”
“Because I am a shameless man—at least in the wake of your exquisite charm. You are undeniably the most intriguing creature I’ve encountered all evening. All year to be precise.”
Clara’s cheeks felt like they were on fire. “I don’t know what to say in response to such overdrawn compliments. You don’t even know me.”
“Overdrawn? You underestimate your allure. You should allow me to prove it to you.”
“Provewhatto me?”
“That you are exquisitely charming.”
Their conversation was decidedly out of her realm of experience, and though it was exhilarating in ways she had only dreamed of, it was most definitely improper. She urged herself to remember that. He was a complete stranger. Did he not realize the scandalous nature of his flattery?
