Page 58 of Stolen By the Duke of Stone

“A great deal of soldiers are gentlemen, and wherever we are commissioned for training, we make the most of what little society there is. It’s not London, of course.”

He drew her a little closer, and his hand settled on her waist.

A strange feeling bubbled in her. “Who were you dancing the waltz with?”

“Jealous?” he asked, a curl of amusement in his voice.

She started to realize she was. She was jealous of a mysterious lady—or ladies—she had never met, and never would, who had seen a piece of Andrew before she had known him. They had known him while he was a captain, and they had… Had they felt like this in the safety of his arms?

And when had his arms become a place of such safety?

“Does that give me leave to be jealous of the gentlemen who danced with you?” he asked, looking down into her eyes.

“There were relatively few gentlemen, so I doubt there’s much to be jealous of.”

“What about in Scotland?”

“None who seriously aspired to my hand. I was too English for them.” She laughed, the memory amusing her. Some lads had found her pretty enough, but they had ultimately wanted a Scottish lass. “I kissed a few.”

“What?” He stilled a little.

“Not—not the kisses I shared with you.” Her face flamed. “I mean… you know, the type children exchange.”

“Ah.” He relaxed a little, but his arms tightened still more around her. They were in the middle of the ballroom, but he didn’t seem to notice a thing except for her. “I’m not sure I would count them as kisses.”

“From a technical standpoint, they count. At least, I thought so at the time.”

His eyes were dark and intense. “And now?”

“Now…” She huffed a breath. “I don’t know.”

“I hope you do not consider those kisses to be on par with others,” he said, still looking down at her. “If you do, I shall demonstrate the difference to you.”

She stumbled, missing her footing, and he caught her effortlessly.

“Sorry,” she said. “I’m not particularly good at the waltz.”

“Then follow my lead,” he said. “Every step is easy if you have someone to show the way. Lean against me. Let me guide you.”

His hand pushed at hers slightly, indicating she was to step back, and when he turned, he used his hands and body to guide her before he moved.

“Oh,” she breathed.

“Just like that.”

“Thank you.”

He hesitated for a second, then brought her a little closer to his body again. The hand on her waist shifted a fraction, and his thumb swiped the material of her dress.

“It’s the least I could do, Jessamine. Truly. The way you are caring for William…” He glanced away for a heartbeat, then looked back at her. “It’s better than anything I could have hoped for.”

“Andrew,” she protested. “It’s nothing. What else was I supposed to do?”

“I know he’s not your child⁠—”

“So?”

“And I also know you’re doing this for Rebecca,” he continued doggedly, “but that doesn’t stop me from being grateful. Perhaps I haven’t always shown it the way I ought, but that doesn’t stop it from being true.”