Page 30 of A Symphony for the Earl

“It is perfectly acceptable to look at me, you know.”

Fiona swallowed and raised her eyes to his. There were faint creases in the corners of his blue-gray eyes.

He led her counterclockwise in a slow, steady movement. She started as her skirt brushed his thighs. His closeness made her lightheaded…or perhaps it was just the whirling motion of the waltz.

“It is a box step, like so.” He demonstrated, turning a circle about the room, and after several revolutions, their steps matched. She began to relax, enjoying the rhythm of the dance and the earl’s skillful partnering.

When the music ended, they stood motionless. Lord Seldon continued to clasp her fingers, and the hand upon her waist pressed through the muslin of her dress like a brand. She shivered as his warm breath skimmed her cheek, then drifted next to her ear.

“Excellent, Miss Rafferty,” he murmured.

Nervelessly, her hand fell from the earl’s shoulder and slipped to his broad chest. She heard a swift intake of breath, and his hands fell from her waist as he stepped back, bowing formally.

She curtsied. “Thank you, my lord. Your instruction is excellent.”

“Perhaps it is time to exchange first names.” He smiled faintly. “We have, after all, waltzed together.”

“Lord Richard…” She hesitated; the very English name sounded faintly exotic in her light brogue.

Something flared in his eyes, gone so quickly she might have imagined it. He inclined his head and strode to the door.

Dinner that night was a festive affair, and all agreed that the goose with cherry sauce was excellent. Lady Amelia and Valentina, in high spirits, chattered endlessly about the coming ball. Madame Brigitte had sent both ball gowns and Lady Amelia declared that there were no two finer dresses to be seen in London.

After describing both in detail to the earl, who listened with remarkable forbearance, she glanced over at Fiona, who had barely spoken during dinner.

“Is something wrong, my dear? Are you not feeling well?”

Fiona started at the question, lost in her thoughts, and unfortunately, they centered around the waltz with Lord Richard. Could she actually be attracted to her thoroughly annoying guardian? The surprising reaction to his proximity was difficult to decipher, and she had little experience with men.

There had been a mild flirtation and a few stolen kisses from an older boy at the conservatory, but he finished his studies and departed for England to pursue teaching. She recalled her racing heart and the fluttering in her stomach better than his face.

“I apologize for my inattention, Lady Amelia. If I practice late in the evenings, would that disturb anyone?”

“Of course not, dear; play as often as you like. It will not affect me, even if I am abed. Richard?”

“I am usually in the library or my study, but you will find the walls quite thick in this house,” he responded.

The footmen cleared their dinner plates and brought a tray of strawberries, pears, and oranges with wedges of cheese. Where on earth did one get fresh fruit in late February?

“How did your dancing lesson go, Fiona?” Valentina asked. “I do hope we can all practice after dinner. Richard is an excellent partner; the ladies swoon to dance with him.”

Her brother peeled an orange, his long fingers making quick work of the fruit. “You flatter me, Valentina.”

“Stuff! We know you never dance half as much as you might. It is a wonder that he agreed to instruct you, Fiona. Was it beneficial?”

“Quite,” she replied. “I expect not to step on more than a dozen toes.”

Octavia giggled. “Can I dance too? Please, Richard?

“We shall set up a country dance and allow Miss Rafferty the opportunity to practice with multiple partners,” he promised. The earl broke off a segment of fruit and offered it to Octavia. She consumed it with relish and afterward, he pointed to her discarded napkin. “I shall not hold sticky fingers to dance, Octavia.”

“Will you waltz with me?” she asked, wiping her hands with enthusiasm. “I want to learn. Valentina says it is all the rage.”

Lord Richard rose from the table. “I shall. Ladies, I am going to my apartments to relax. Shall we meet in an hour at the piano?”

At the appointed time, Fiona met the others and practiced line dances and the quadrille for over an hour.

She acquitted herself credibly but didn’t come close to matching the skill of her partners, even young Octavia. Lord Richard took Valentina, then Octavia for a turn around the room in the waltz. She couldn’t help but admire the mastery of his partnering. He was confident, yet courteous, and his movements were supple and elegant.