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Lina knew exactly why Tom called waltzing dangerous, but she chose to ignore his meaning. “My feet are in little danger,” she told him. “You dance very well, for a man who tries these steps for the first time.”

“You may regret that confidence; I’m going to attempt a turn.”

“Do,” she said. “We ought to move right down the room.”

He misstepped and narrowly avoiding trampling on her toes. “There, Lina,” he said, laughing down at her. “Your feet are in danger!”

She giggled.

“I think if I hold you more tightly,” he said to her, “we’ll move better together. Would that be agreeable to you?”

“All right,” she said, struck by an unexpected wave of shyness.

“I suspect our bodies are scandalously close,” he murmured into her hair a moment later.

But she was too taken by the realization that she was—she truly was—in danger to answer.

Rees turned the page for Helene and gave her a nod, indicating he would begin the song. She nodded back and he launched into the first verse: “Let me, lovely girl, embrace you, As would a lover his lovable bride.”

Helene could feel her cheeks growing warmer. Could it have been she who wrote of a lover embracing his bride? What was she thinking? It was her turn to sing. Her voice caroled high. She didn’t have tremendous range, but she liked what she had, as the saying went.

Rees’s darker growl took over again: “Face to face with burning cheeks.” She could feel him watching her, so she kept her own eyes primly on her fingers.

It was time to sing together. “What has wilted once, ne’er blooms again,” she sang, high and clear, and Rees’s voice twined into hers, in a sweet descant, lowered to his baritone range, “Never will rosy youth bloom for us, again.” And isn’t that the truth, Helene thought, rather sadly.

Rees took the last verse, repeating: “Let me, darling girl, enfold you, As would a lover his lovable bride, as would a lover his lovable bride.”

“It’s not darling girl,” she objected, as she played the final coda to the waltz. “I wrote lovely girl.”

“You want an expression of affection, not a point about her looks,” Rees said. Then he lowered his voice. “Did you happen to notice how much my brother is enjoying your music?”

Helene raised an eyebrow as she played the final chord. “The vicar sheds his Roman collar,” she said, rather absentmindedly. She didn’t want to think about Tom.

“Let’s try it again,” Rees said. “This time, every other line with the male and then the female voice.”

“That won’t work,” she objected.

“The song could echo the waltz itself, bringing a male and female body together,” he said patiently.

Helene felt she must be going purple. What kind of an old maid—even if married—was she, writing lascivious songs? “I didn’t think of the waltz that way!” she said.

“That’s why the waltz is so improper,” he said with a smile that made her uneasy. “It simulates intimacy, Helene. Surely you recognize that.”

“Well, of course,” she hastened to say. “I mean, the man puts his arm around the woman. That in itself is terribly unseemly.”

“That’s not the point,” Rees said, sounding rather amused. “You knew exactly what I’m talking about when you were writing that music. Lina!” he called.

“Yes?”

“Will you play the waltz this time? Helene needs to get a sense of it in her feet.”

“Oh, I couldn’t,” Helene said, feeling as if the last thing she wanted to do was waltz with her husband. A moment later, she found herself curtsying to Rees’s bow. “This is too odd,” she whispered to him, taking his hand. His other hand went around her waist as snugly as if they danced together all the time.

Rees had only asked Lina to play, but she started to sing as well. Helene almost stumbled when she realized what a beautiful voice her husband’s mistress had. It hung in the air like honey, making the words Helene had written sound infinitely better, wiser, more allusive.

Rees drew her closer to him and let the music move them across the room, his leg advancing, and hers falling back. And all the time his arm pulled her closer and closer until there was no air between their bodies at all.

“Rees!” Helene hissed.