Chapter Twelve #2
“Do stop, Captain.” But she grinned. How could she not? He was generous in his flirtations, and he made her feel so desired and wanted. “I am hardly a Diamond any longer now that I’ve fallen from grace.”
“As if that is a good indicator of worthiness.” Laurence held her in a loose embrace.
“Men would still compete with each other to put their name on your dance card. Hostesses would vie to have you grace their tables, for you are quite interesting to talk with.” He winked.
“Or alternately, you could best them all with your skills in archery.”
“Now you’re speaking gammon.” She shoved at his shoulder, and when he didn’t release her, she furrowed her brow. “You are serious about dancing.” It wasn’t a question.
“I am, and in fact, I’ve looked forward to leading you out for a waltz.” He put them into the correct positions and then guided her into the first steps.
“A waltz? Why?”
“Why not?” His confident grin sent heat through her blood. “You are a beautiful woman, and quite frankly, you are being wasted here by yourself.”
“I don’t have a choice.” She couldn’t breathe while in his arms in the face of such a compliment.
He swept her around and her skirts swished against her legs. “There is always a choice, but I understand what you mean. Your family stole the joy of living from you.”
“It could be argued that I did that because of my prior decisions and bearing a child out of wedlock.”
“Life is life, Rose. The good and the bad combined, but it doesn’t need to be a prison.”
“Do you believe that for yourself?”
“That depends on the day.”
“Yes.”
Around and around the dance floor the captain swept her, and it was so easy with him, she scarcely felt her feet on the floor.
It was as if they’d been doing this together all their lives.
Finally she was able to relax and take some joy from her existence.
Rose’s heart raced from the nicety that was so out of place in the world in which she lived.
Under his breath the captain hummed snatches of a popular waltz, and one that she’d enjoyed during her Seasons in London.
How did he know it was a favorite? Perhaps he did not.
Perhaps it was merely a tune he remembered from his own past. The melody swirled through her head and gave her feet wings.
His large, calloused hand enclosing hers made her feel safe.
His other hand at the small of her back sent flutters trailing through her insides, yet it was his words that melted her heart, it was his intent that broke down the last of the barriers she’d built around that organ.
As they made another circuit about the room in the golden candlelight, she willed away the urge to cry silly, emotional tears.
After everything they’d both been through in their lives, it was incredible that an impromptu waltz in an empty ballroom festooned with minimal decorations had the power to see her undone.
He did this for me.
Instead, she let herself enjoy the rare intimacy of the dance.
Though she might not enjoy much of what society offered or what it believed in, she did miss dancing, being held by a man, letting herself be carried away by the steps.
Laurence tugged her closer as if he sensed the direction of her thoughts.
The scent of his cologne teased her nose.
The gleam in his eyes rendered her breathless while the mischievous half-grin curving his mouth sent desire spiraling through her lower belly.
As she peered up at him, as her feet had a mind of their own, as her breasts brushed his chest, a certain magic wrapped around them.
This was what romance should feel like, this was what falling in love should be.
Her thighs bumped his each time they turned while the insistent press of his hardened length again her belly sent quivers between her legs.
Oh, how she wanted this man, and she suspected she did for more than just to have him warm her bed.
In that moment, their souls communed in silence on a plane removed from reality.
And the man he was would forever be imprinted on her heart to crowd out the bad memories from her past.
As they drew to a stop and his humming faded, Rose moistened her lips. “Thank you, Laurence. I…” She held his gaze, lost in the inscrutable dark depths. “You cannot possibly know how much this means.”
“I have an inkling, and I merely wanted to see you smile.”
Still watching her, he put a curled finger beneath her chin, lifted her head, and then slowly, oh so slowly, claimed her lips with his.
Yet in that embrace, he didn’t push for more, didn’t do anything that might ignite heat between them.
Instead, it felt almost as if he sought to reassure her things would come out right as rain if only she believed, that he hoped to convey without words how he felt about her.
When he pulled away, she searched his gaze. “Are you courting me, Captain Danbury?”
“Would that be the worst thing?” he asked with a grin that spread over his face.
Her smile was as wide as his. “Perhaps it’s not, but give me a few days to think about it.” Then, because she could, Rose layered her body against his, looped her arms about his shoulders, and kissed him with all the budding feelings that buffeted her.
A Phoenix rising from the ashes? I rather like the sound of that.