Chapter Eleven
“You are an utter cad,” Bonham accused Gideon the next morning when he walked into his home on Duchess Square, which reeked of paint fumes.
Not that Gideon minded the pungent scent, for it meant the painters were diligently turning this house into Berry’s vision of his sanctuary.
“Why did you not tell her that you already knew how to dance?”
Gideon rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. “Because I’ve only ever danced with Miss Feswick, and that cannot count at all. Why should I not practice with someone I might actually partner at a ball?”
“You could have told her you’d taken lessons.”
“It did not seem relevant at the time.”
Bonham shook his head and laughed. “You hound. You want her melting in your arms.”
“So what if I do? And you are not to tell her.”
“Me? Tell her?” Bonham laughed again. “I want in on this action, too. It will take less than ten minutes before Gwendolyn and Suzanna scurry over to watch you learn how to dance. I’m going to be there, looking my pathetic best and wishing someone would teach me, too.”
“So, you are going to pretend you have never taken lessons, either?”
Bonham winked at him. “You catch on quick for a dumb orphan. Do you think Suzanna will mind teaching me?”
Gideon arched an eyebrow and grinned. “Have you gone soft for Suzanna?”
To his surprise, his usually irreverent, smart-mouthed friend turned serious. “What are we doing, Gideon? I mean, what good does it do us to fall in love with ladies who are so far above our station, we are more likely to catch a star in the heavens than ever catch them?”
“I know.”
“These ladies are not the sort one claims for a quick tumble on a warm summer night. They are for marriage. Do you think you could be faithful forever?”
“With Berry?” Gideon groaned. “Yes, because she makes it so easy to love her and want to be with her. But how could it ever work between us? I would gain everything, and she would lose everything married to an oaf like me. Her friends. Her social standing. Her respectability. All of her hard work for the orphanage would crumble as her donors abandoned her one by one.”
“I suppose it would be much the same for Suzanna,” Bonham said. “I would not like to see her cast out of her social circle because of me. But it is nice to dream that all might work out, isn’t it?”
“So long as we remember it is just a dream.”
Bonham nodded. “These ladies on Duchess Square are gems, aren’t they? Not our gems, however. Even if Berry and Suzanna felt about us the way we are coming to feel about them, how long before they realize their mistake and grow to resent us?”
“Enough of this maudlin conversation, Bonham. It is just a dance lesson. Let’s not make anything more of it.
” Gideon had strolled in with good cheer and now felt quite upended, but he shook out of it because there were more important things to think about than love or marriage.
“We can still enjoy these moments, so long as we remember to walk away afterward. If we view this dance instruction as nothing, then so will they.”
Bonham slapped him on the back. “Right. We can do this. How can two virgins possibly best us?”
But this was the danger, Gideon knew. Berry’s innocence. Same for Suzanna with regard to Bonham.
It was so obvious neither of them had ever had a romantic encounter with a man.
And he and Bonham were two idiot males exhibiting every possessive, arrogant, primal behavior known to man. They may act like gentlemen on the outside, but inwardly they were caged apes desperate to break free.
And mate with their chosen female.
All Berry had to do was smile and the caged ape inside of him went wild.
Mine.
I want her.
I want to create little wild apes with her.
Well, wanting her and having her were not the same thing.
“Oh, hell.”
“What’s wrong, Gideon?” Bonham let out a groaning laugh as he peered toward the front door.
The sound of giggles could be heard in the entry hall. “Brace yourself,” Gideon said with mirth. “We are about to come under siege.”
In the next moment, five feminine heads poked through the open door to the ballroom.
Bonham waved them in. “Come in, ladies. What do you think?”
Berry was the first to stroll in, her smile one of sheer delight. “The paint color is perfect. What do you think, Mr. Knight?”
Gideon thought she was the perfect one, for he really did not care about the color of the paint. If Berry chose it, then he was going to like it. “Exactly what I had in mind.”
“I see the floors are covered in cloths,” she said, delicately lifting one of the coverings. “Perhaps we ought to leave the matter of flooring for another day.”
He nodded. “Whatever you think best.”
She laughed and shook her head. “Are you always this agreeable in the mornings? It is quite irritating, you know.”
He grinned. “No worries, I am usually a growling bear. But it is very hard to growl at someone as kind and helpful as you.”
“Ah, yes. As to that… We need to teach you how to dance. That is most urgent,” Berry said. “All eyes will be on you at Lord Stanhope’s ball. Most will be cruel, just waiting for you to fail. You must prove them all wrong.”
“May I join you?” Bonham asked. “I know I will never be invited to a ball, but Gideon is not the only one who wishes to improve himself.”
Suzanna stepped forward, or perhaps her cousin had pushed her forward. “Um, I can teach you. That is…if you don’t mind my tutoring you, Mr. Bonham.”
He smiled at her. “I would be honored. Thank you, Miss Carstairs.”
Gideon let out a breath. Gad, what were they getting themselves into?
He had never seen such a look on Bonham’s face. It was all there. His hopes and dreams, his yearning for Suzanna.
Gideon felt the same about Berry, but he knew this could only lead to trouble. Hadn’t they just spent the last ten minutes cautioning each other?
It’s just a dance lesson. Make no more of it.
Yet they were ignoring every warning.
And now he, Bonham, and the five ladies walked over to Berry’s house for a morning of dancing.
Miranda sat at the pianoforte. “What shall I play for you, Berry?”
“Since the ball will likely open with a quadrille, that is the first dance we ought to teach the gentlemen.”
It turned out Miranda was quite proficient and played beautifully. But this was what made these ladies stand apart from commoners. They were well versed in the genteel arts.
Gwenys and Gwendolyn joined in as the third pair, since it was decided that Miranda’s niece needed some practice for her debut, too.
“We ought to have a fourth couple, but we can pretend they are here for now,” Berry said as they moved into position.
But before nodding to Miranda to play a tune, she placed her hands on Gideon’s shoulders and then ran them down his arms. “First impressions are important, so before you ever take a step, everyone will be looking at your stance.”
“What is wrong with my stance?” The question was sincere, since Miss Feswick had gone over that lesson often enough and given his elbows a sharp rap with her baton if he did not have them pointed outward just the way she wanted.
Berry stared up at him with her big, beautiful eyes.
“Your elbows are too far forward. Appearances are everything to the ton. One must work hard at looking casual, as though one had been born with grace and self-possession. Arms loose. Elbows only slightly forward. Back straight, but not stiff.” She glanced at Bonham and nodded to Suzanna to get him in a proper stance, then continued.
“Now present your right shoulder to the opposite dancer and glissade.”
Berry and Suzanna showed them how it was done.
Then Berry started tossing out more French words that he had learned from Miss Feswick, but they sounded so much sweeter on Berry’s tongue. Chasse, jete, assemble. Advance. Cross back.
“I may have to sit this one out,” Gideon muttered, for Berry’s figures were more complex than those he had been taught, and how could a man not look foolish while hopping about like a rabbit?
“No,” she said sternly, “you are not a coward. The first comments Lord Stanhope’s guests will make about you is that you are too common to master the quadrille.
They will dismiss you immediately as unworthy.
So you must get out there with swaggering confidence, look straight in their faces, and shove your gracefulness down their throats. ”
Gideon laughed. His little kitten was sounding like a tigress.
She tipped her chin up proudly. “You must show them all up. Oh, was that too bloodthirsty of me?”
He laughed again. “Perhaps the littlest bit.”
She shook her head and sighed. “I do not want them to beat you down. I hate cruelty, and they will be so cruel to you if given the slightest opening. Shall we continue?”
He nodded.
If Berry wanted him to be a bloody hopping rabbit, then so be it.
He almost fell to his knees in relief when she declared success and moved on to the waltz.
“This dance is perhaps the most important because it is just you and your partner, and any mistakes cannot be hidden or blamed on anyone else. Since the man leads, any false steps from you or your partner will be attributed to you.”
“Got it,” Gideon said, knowing this was his battlefield and he held all the advantage. Berry might have danced the waltz before, but never with him.
He knew just how to hold her and touch her. Knew how to make her follow wherever he led. The waltz was a dance of seduction, and he knew how to seduce a woman.
Berry did not stand a chance.
A blush stained her cheeks the moment he took her into his arms.
He knew he was affecting her because she began to babble, first with instructions and then with compliments.
“It took me forever to learn these steps and complete the proper turns and twirls, but you caught on so quickly. Obviously, you have a natural aptitude for dancing. I fear I have two left feet.”
No, he had an aptitude for seduction.