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When she twirled, Esther twirled right into his arms and landed square on his chest. Her gloved hands were pressed on his chest and the white of her gloves were stark against his black clad chest. Pressed tightly on his chest, she met his eyes for one fleeting second that felt like an eternity.
Arthur’s heated expression sent shivers down her spine, and when he tenderly righted her, the pupils of his eyes were craters with a thin rim of blue. She knew what that meant; didn’t she? Yes, it was a passage in that book.
Nathaniel’s eyes landed on Madeline’s with lust, the blacks in his eyes eclipsing the green of his eyes.
Could it be that he desired her, intimately? Imagery brought on by the salacious book Arthur had given her had Esther swallowing over a tight throat. Vaguely she realized the people were dancing the last few steps around them while they stood still. The music trailed off, the dance ended, and she managed to tear herself from his sliver-blue gaze.
“I am—” she wetted her lips, while feeling his eyes following the motion, “—parched. Shall we get some water?”
His hand brushed over the small of her back, and the heat of his palm seemed to brand her even through three layers of clothing, “I’ll get it. Please, join Miss Smith and rest a while. The next dance is the Scottish reel.”
When he escorted her back to Margaret, Arthur bowed and left to refreshment room and instantly Esther mourned the loss of his hand. Reaching into the reticule, Esther fished out her fan, and fanned her flushed face.
“Are you all right, My Lady?”
“No,” Esther said, “I’m at sixes and sevens, Margaret. Captain Morgan is…” she blew out a breath and shot a look at the direction the man had taken, “…I think I am falling in love with him.”
“That’s good, isn’t it?” Margaret asked.
“It should be,” Esther bit back a sigh, “I’m not complaining; I think it’s wonderful, but I’m so swept up in him I can barely think. When I am near him, my logic vanishes, and my emotions take over. He has this magnetic pull to him and I… I’m sorry. I know I am not making any sense.”
Her best friend rested a hand on Esther’s thigh, “No, it makes perfect sense. I think and pardon me because I have no basis for this as I have never been in love before, but I think you are unsettled because of the very fact that you have never been in love before. I have heard ladies who profess falling in love is precisely that, falling. You will feel unsettled.”
“Is that—” Esther broke off as Arthur was striding to them, bearing a glass of water.
“Here you are, My Lady,” he said while handing her the glass. “I hope you are not too tired.”
“No,” Esther said, “Not at all.”
Taking a seat near her, Arthur looked around, “Perhaps after this next dance we can go and listen to the orchestra in the other room?”
Pulling the glass from her lips, Esther smiled over the rim, “I’d like that, thank you.”
By the time the next dance was called, Esther had finished her water and Margaret went off to put the glass away. She danced the reel with Arthur and when it ended, pressed a hand to her heaving chest. “I must declare, I am not fanciful of those dances, the reel, the jig and the strathspey. You, My Lord, hardly look winded.”
Arthur slanted his head to her, “I am an active man, My Lady,” he said while leading her to Margaret, “Shall we go to the music room?”
“Yes, please,” she agreed while collecting her reticule from her maid.
“Shall I accompany you, My Lady?” Margaret asked.
Esther looked to Arthur, who looked impassive, then back to Margaret, “I do not think you need to. We’ll only be a room away. All will be fine, Margaret.”
Her maid shot a worried look at Captain Morgan, but she had to obey Esther’s word and nodded, “Please, enjoy yourself, My Lady and My Lord.”
Taking Arthur’s arm, she allowed him to lead her to the other room where the seated orchestra was. Half-a-dozen globe lamps glowed from nooks, illuminating the orchestra playing on the stage more than the audience.
He found a seat for them in a dark corner near a side door, while a riveting rendition of Beethoven’s Third Symphony, its smooth but whimsical tones swirled in the air. The romantic music had Esther sighing with the soft lulls between the stanzas and feeling the grip of excitement when the tone shifted to triumphant melodies.
While the music swelled, Arthur reached and held her hand, clasping it in one of his large palms while covering the back of it with his second. She chanced a look at him and saw that his stoic face was still unmoved, but then again, Esther should have expected that. He had already told her that he was not a fanciful man. He might have even suggested listening to the orchestra to please her instead of himself.
Tightening her grip, Esther listened as the music changed to part two of the symphony when Arthur leaned into her ear, “I must admit, I brought you here because I want a few more private moments with you. Would you follow me?”
