Page 42 of A Duchess for his Family

“Your dancing.”

She frowned. “There is nothing wrong with my dancing.”

“There are several matters requiring… correction.”

Her mouth opened. For one perilous moment, Benedict believed she might laugh directly in his face.

“You have been observing my dancing?” she asked.

“I observe most things.”

“That is an alarming admission.”

“You turn too quickly.”

“I turn precisely when the dance requires it.”

“You nearly collided with Lord Ashcombe during the second set.”

“Lord Ashcombe was moving in the wrong direction.”

Benedict looked away before she could see his amusement too plainly.

“You also look at your feet,” he added.

“Only when gentlemen give contradictory signals.”

“My signals are never contradictory.”

“They are generally commands.”

“They are clear.”

“That is not the same thing.”

Benedict turned toward her again. “Well, be that as it may, you still require lessons.”

Sophia folded her arms. “From whom?”

“Me.”

This time, a small laugh escaped her before she could prevent it. Benedict felt absurdly rewarded by the sound.

“You intend to teach me how to dance?” she asked.

“I am an excellent dancer.”

“You are a competent dancer.”

“I have received no complaints.”

“Perhaps everyone is frightened of you.”

“He almost smiled. That has occasionally proved useful.”

Sophia shook her head, though she was smiling now herself. “I cannot imagine anything more severe than a dancing lesson conducted by you.”

“I shall attempt not to terrify you.”