Page 39 of Snowed In with the Runaway Bride

“No,” she said. “I missed it.” Waltz music had been popular for years, but the scandalous dance itself had only reached England’s shores that summer in the wake of the Congress of Vienna. There had been no one for her to dance it with.

“I’ll show you.” Hugo called to the fiddler, who began to play in an easy three-part rhythm. “Curve your arm above your head.”

Puzzled, Penny obeyed. He clasped her hand in his opposite hand, their arms forming an arch above their heads, and slid his arm around her waist. Her other arm could only go around his waist. They were face-to-face, bodies only inches apart. She felt strangely vulnerable with her arm curved over her head, as though she was opening herself up to him with no assurance he felt the same.

Hugo took a moment to catch the beat and then began to twirl her across the floor, hands clasped above their heads in what came very close to a public embrace. The villagers cleared a space in the center of the room to gape at them as they danced until a few of the braver souls attempted it themselves.

Now Penny understood why the waltz was so scandalous. Hugo’s face was only inches from hers. As was his body. Her skirts brushed against his legs with every twirl, snapping in the air as they moved. Her raised arm pushed her body towards his, the danger of their bodies touching in public present at every moment as he maneuvered her.

And what was even more scandalous was that Hugo should know so very well how to dance it. She had no right to be jealous of the women he had danced it with before her… but she was.

There was a strange intensity to his gaze, as though he was trying to memorize her, and she cast her eyes down, unable to keep looking at him. This was Hugo. She ought not to be thinking the sort of things she was thinking.

And she really ought not to be thinking of the way he had kissed her in the woods when they were gathering evergreens. Even the barest brush of the memory made her unsteady knees tremble.

As the waltz music ended with a flourish, Hugo allowed himself the indulgence of giving Penny one more twirl, his arm around her waist as she laughed, flushed and beautiful.

She was always beautiful to him.

They came to a halt, face-to-face, crowded in by the other dancers. A smile still lit her face, but it slowly faded as she realized how intently he was looking at her. Trying to memorize how she looked at this moment.

"What is it?"

"Nothing," he said. Without thought, he raised her hand to his lips and kissed it, her fingers curling around his palm. "Thank you for the dance."

"Thank you for reminding me how much I enjoy it."

"Make sure you don't overdo. I would hate for you to be in pain again."

"I am always in pain," she admitted. "It is always in the background. But some things are worth a little pain."

One of the other men claimed Penny's hand for the next dance, and Hugo stepped back, allowing her room to indulge herself. He must remember she knew her limits better than he ever could and resist the temptation to coddle her.

Two more dances, and the music halted for a few minutes so the musicians could refresh themselves. A beaming Mr. Roberson carried in a bowl filled with steaming punch, and Hugo reclaimed Penny's arm to guide her through the crowd.

"Stop where you are." Mr. Roberson's voice boomed through the taproom, his voice edged with glee. "Stop and look up."

Startled, Hugo halted and realized he and Penny were positioned perfectly under the kissing ball, which had deliberately been hung off-center to make it more difficult to avoid. He could see Penny had come to the same realization, because she blushed deeply, the color spreading across her cheeks and down her neck.

For a moment, he wondered how far her blushes stretched, but shook off the vision of finding them as Roberson spoke again.

"Anytime you're ready, Captain."

Hugo looked around at the crowd, all of them equally as interested in watching Hugo and Penny follow tradition as the landlord was.

He turned to look at Penny, whose eyes were modestly downcast, but as she glanced up at him, he could see the grin twitching at the edges of her lips. Her beautiful, full, rosy lips.

Very well. If they wanted a show, he would give them a show.

He turned Penny towards him, arm around her back. "Put your arm around my neck."

Puzzled, she complied, and gasped as he tilted her backwards, hand between her shoulder blades to support her, and kissed her soundly to the cheers and applause that rang through the room.

He pulled back a little and watched her eyes flutter open. Then her arm tightened around his neck and drew him back down for another kiss that left him gasping.

Abruptly, he pulled away and set her back on her feet, arm still around her waist. He accepted the friendly jeers and catcalls as he guided her away from the kissing ball.

That had been a mistake. Now he wanted to kiss her again. And again. To never stop, and to see what the natural end of their kissing could be.