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As they turned, their left hands clasped overhead, and their bodies were brought close together. They’d practiced the steps before. But this dance was new and different and seductive beyond all reason. She swayed with him, responding to his gentle guidance.
She looked up at him with an expression bordering on wonderment, as though discovering something that defied logic yet existed, anyway. He was pulled in by her tide, yielding to the gravity that drew them closer, and closer still. Her loamy, floral scent teased him, and the heat and softness of her body roused his own to acute awareness. He couldn’t tell if it was night or day or winter or spring but he knew with absolute certainty that the silk of her gown had taken on the warmth of her flesh, and that same warmth flowed into him like a torrent.
There were cultures that used dance as a means of prayer or summoning magic. He understood that now, more fully than he ever had before. Because what else were he and Grace doing if not weaving a spell that bound them together and filled the ballroom with enchantment? It would not have surprised him to look up and find the coved ceiling replaced by the branches of ancient oaks.
I’ll give her anything she wants.
The thought didn’t frighten him. It filled him with certainty and purpose.
He couldn’t recall any of the reasons why he needed to keep himself at a distance, why he couldn’t adore her with his mind and his body. He couldn’t remember much of anything, his thoughts hazy from having her in his arms. The kiss they’d shared seemed long ago, too long, and demand to repeat it and taste her once again roared through him.
When they’d practiced this dance, he hadn’t known what it was to kiss her. Now he did, and their movement across the dance floor became tinged with erotic potential.
Her cheeks were flushed, and she moved her gaze back and forth from his eyes to his mouth, as if she, too, was brought back to that sunlit field where the air had been ripe with the whirring of insects, the smell of grass, and sensual possibility.
You aren’t supposed to want her, a faint voice in his mind pointed out.
But why?
He had no answer. Not when they were entangled together like this.
And then, too soon, the music ended. She blinked—he probably did, as well—and, several moments later, stepped back.
He remembered he had some kind of role or function to serve. It took him a few seconds before he recalled what he was supposed to do. He held out his arm, and she took it. His whole body protested as he walked her back to the side of the chamber, where Fredericks waited. The naturalist appeared slightly puzzled, but Seb didn’t give a fuck about that. He only cared about the moment when Grace’s touch disappeared.
Taut as a pianoforte string, he bowed, despite wanting to hold her tightly. He made himself smile. “It was my honor.”
She stared at him, her eyes brilliant, her cheeks still pink as peonies. Then she turned and hurried away.
The corridor to the ladies’ retiring room stretched before Grace as though it was miles away, but she had to reach it. Had to get to someplace secure and safe.
She felt curious looks from other guests as she walked quickly. Managing a distracted smile, she nodded at a few people she vaguely recognized before—at last!—the door to the retiring room appeared before her. She pushed it open and dashed inside.
She sank down on a low tufted stool set before a mirror. Similar arrangements of furniture ringed the room, and other ladies made use of them, patting their hair into place or checking if their cheeks were too flushed. A few women chatted, but all of them cast assessing glances in her direction.
“May I assist you, my lady?”
Grace started and stared at the maid’s reflection as the servant stood behind her.
“I . . .” She didn’t know what she wanted from the maid.
That wasn’t true. She wanted to pour out her heart to the servant. I have feelings for another man, someone who thinks of me only as a friend. I thought I wanted someone else, but I don’t know if that’s true anymore. Please help me make sense of myself.
“No, thank you,” Grace said instead.
The servant curtsied before moving on to a duo of women who entered the retiring room, both of them fussing with their gowns.
