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Seth scowled. “I’m not. I hate fish.”
This only made Charlotte laugh harder. “Then why’d you say it? Mrs. Nicholson will forever be telling people how much you love the dish.”
Seth threw his hands up, though he clearly wasn’t truly upset. “I couldn’t think of anything better.”
“You could dance with me.”
Seth gave her a most puzzled expression. “In what way would that convince them we’re only friends?” he asked, his tone equally as perplexed.
“You can tell a lot about two people’s relationship by watching how they dance. And we would only dance once.”
Seth dropped his head forward, his mood changing from jovial to something more somber. “I don’t think dancing is a good idea.”
She could simply accept his answer—clearly, he was ill at ease. But he was too good a friend for her to walk away. Instead, she kept her voice gentle. “Why ever not?”
His words were a bit clipped. “It’s just not.”
Charlotte watched him closely. Something about the idea of dancing put him on edge, but she couldn’t figure out exactly why. She silently waited for him to say more.
Seth glanced her way—and must have seen in her face that she wasn’t going to let him drop it—and then sighed, rubbing his hands forcibly against his face. “I never learned how to dance. Not the ones members of thetondo, anyway.”
It was getting late, and no doubt Seth was about ready to call off for the night. But instead of letting him, Charlotte stood. “Is that all?” she said, taking his hands. She wanted to stay here with him, in easy company, laughing and talking over life. She wanted him to stay here with her.
Charlotte pulled him to his feet as well. “Then I shall simply have to teach you.”
