Page 29 of His Duchess to Remember

He moved as if he had done this before, leading her.

Gazing up at him in surprise, she almost forgot her steps, the mistake causing him to come far closer than he was supposed to. She gripped his arm tighter to steady herself, and he, in turn, let his palm splay against her back so that she would not lose her balance.

Her heart skipped and her lungs forgot how to function as she met those beautiful, summer green eyes. It was almost an embrace, reminding her of the moment he had returned to her, how fiercely he had hugged her in the drawing room even without knowing who she was.

“How do you know what to do?” she managed to say.

He smiled. “I thought, since ye meant to be a strict tutor, that I ought to prepare beforehand.” He leaned in slightly. “But books can only teach so much.”

All of a sudden, he swept her around in a circle, then another, then another, until she was clinging to him as much in excitement as alarm.

A yelp escaped her throat as his hands found the curve of her waist and, without warning, he lifted her up into the air, whirling around with her. It did not seem to cost him any effort whatsoever, his strength holding her up securely… so much so that, in a rush of joy, she stretched out her arms and closed her eyes, feeling as if she were flying.

In slow rotations, he brought her back down to the ground, and his arm slid around her, pulling her close as they swayed together.

“This is not a waltz,” she rasped, her heart racing.

“I thought I ought to teach ye some of a Scottish reel in return,” he said.

“This is how they dance in Scotland?”

He chuckled. “Well, nae exactly. I put in a few steps of my own.”

As much as she tried to fight against it, her face and neck prickled with fresh warmth. There was such an inescapable charm to him and, for a moment, it saddened her. He was now someone she might have liked to meet when she was younger, before everything happened to twist her view of gentlemen. And what had twisted him into the man she remembered, when this was who he used to be?

To her alarm, she felt moisture on her cheek.

Malcolm frowned and brushed the tear away with his thumb, his hold on her relaxing.

He stepped back. “Have I done something to upset ye?”

She shook her head, hastily wiping her eyes.

“But I must have,” he insisted. “Nae just now, but before. I must have done something to ye to make ye want to be so far away from me, to make ye want to lead separate lives.”

“It was not you,” she blurted out, needing to unburden herself. “You were not the one who hurt me. You were not the one who made me want nothing to do with men.”

He deserved to know that; she could not allow him to blame himself for another gentleman’s lasting mark upon her mind.

Malcolm’s brow creased in consternation. “But someone hurt ye?”

Turning her gaze away from him, the pleasure of the dance dissipating, she dipped her head in a reluctant nod.

“Tried to,” she murmured. “And I have not trusted a man since, nor shall I. They are all the same.”

If he was offended by the remark, he did not show it. Instead, his hand reached for hers and held it gently. “What happened? Why do ye feel that way?”

“I was in London,” she began haltingly. “I had been to the theater and… found myself alone, somewhere that I should not have been. A man cornered me, sought to take advantage of me, and… I still dread to think what might have happened if Laurence had not intervened.”

She drew in a shaky breath, her mind prickling with the awful memory. Something she would have liked to knock out of her head for good.

“There was a duel. Laurence acted in my honor and almost went blind because of it.” Her mouth twisted, her eyes stinging with tears she refused to spill. “I could not even defend myself. Someone else had to do it for me. As I said, if it had not been for Laurence’s timely intervention, I would have surely been ruined. And it sickens me that I could not… do anything to help myself. That is why I do not trust men, and never shall.”

A glint of something flashed in Malcolm’s eyes. “Might I have the name of the gentleman?”

“No, you may not,” she replied.

“I would be discreet.” He offered a smile.