Page 26 of One Night with a Rake

Reuben settled back into the Sheraton chair, leaned back, and laced his fingers behind his head. “I’m thinking we won’t have to. Lord Nathaniel will likely do something about it for us. You should have seen the way he hotfooted it out of the dining room after Lady Georgette.”

Mercy’s brows arched at that. “Did he now?”

“That he did, and once they was outside the door in the main hall, I happened to overhear—not that I was trying to, mind”—Reuben directed this aside to Mr. Humphrey, who was adamant that the help not eavesdrop on the Family they served—“that the pair of them was off to the ballroom so’s as Lady Georgette could practice with a partner a bit afore His Nibs Mr. Gooch returned on the morrow.”

Mr. Humphrey frowned at this news. “The two of them? Alone?”

“Likely,” Reuben said. “Lord and Lady Yorkingham both retired to their own chambers after that.”

The steward cleared his throat loudly. “Miss Atwood, take Mr. Darling and make for the ballroom to see that Lady Georgette is all right.”

“Why, Mr. Humphrey,” Mercy said, casting him a sly smile. She reminded Reuben of a tabby toying with a mouse she fully intended to have for dinner. “Are you suggesting we spy on a member of the Family?”

“No, of course not.” His jowls shook like an indignant bulldog. “I’m suggesting you protect a member of the Family. I don’t need to remind all of you how important the match between the daughter of the House and the Duke of Cambridge is to Lord Yorkingham. Indeed, to us all. Nothing may be allowed to jeopardize that.”

“But Lord Nathaniel don’t mean her no harm. Didn’t he drag her out of that Covent Garden mess? All Lord Nathaniel’s doing is helping her with her dancing,” Reuben objected. “Seems to me that’s to the good, ain’t it?”

A look of understanding passed between Mercy and the steward. Mercy gave an almost imperceptible nod, but Reuben was still in the dark. She quickly folded up her darning and stashed it in her sewing basket.

“Mr. Humphrey is right. Come with me, Mr. Darling.” She crooked her finger at him as she sashayed out of the common room and up the back staircase. “Time for you to make your pretty self useful.”

Eleven

“Beau-ti-ful-four! There-you-go-four,” Nate called out as he and Georgette moved through the intricate steps. Simple counting had become boring in short order, and after his particularly untuneful attempt at humming an appropriate melody in common time, he’d settled on rhythmic encouragement to keep their steps synchronized.

It had the added benefit of making Georgette laugh at intervals. Her nose was still a little red from her earlier tears, but her eyes were brighter now. Nathaniel had never been tempted to hit a woman before, but if he were Lord Yorkingham, he’d have taken his wife over his knee and paddled her bum before he let her crush his daughter’s spirit as Lady Yorkingham had crushed Georgette’s at the dining table.

“One-more-turn-four,” Georgette said, giving him a bit of a break as the set of figures came to a close and she settled into a deep curtsy. “Now-we’re-done-four.”

“Done for? Oh, I hope not.”

She laughed and the joyful sound broke over his heart like a sunrise. Then her expression turned serious.

“This helps tremendously. Now I’ll be able to face Mr. Gooch tomorrow. Thank you, Nathaniel.”

“My pleasure, milady.” He swept an old-fashioned bow. “Now, enough country dances. Do you know how to waltz?”

Her eyes went round. “Of course not. I’ve never even seen it danced, but I’ve heard it’s positively indecent.”

He silently conceded the point. The waltz made a man and a woman move in tandem, their bodies as close as the man dared and the woman allowed. There was no doubt about it. There was something undeniably sensual about dipping and turning together to a languid three-quarter-time melody.

“Indecent or not, the Prince Regent is mad about the waltz,” Nathaniel said. “He introduced it to his court over a year ago.”

“I read the notices at the time.” She tucked a wayward lock of hair behind her ear. “‘Obscene’ was one of the nicer things the Times had to say about it.”

“The press will come around so long as the dance remains a favorite at court. They always do. In the end, the royals can do no wrong.”

As opposed to me, he thought wryly.

“Imagine how pleased your mother will be when you surprise her and the Duke of Cambridge with a waltz,” he said.

Her worried frown was back.

Nate despised himself for stooping to that level of extortion, but he wanted so desperately to hold her, it was beginning to border on a sickness. She’d been skittish around him since he took those liberties in the hackney. Teaching her the waltz was the only way he could be sure she’d allow him to touch her again.

Finally, she sighed. “Very well. Teach me.”

***