A Regrettable Proposal by Jennie Goutet

Author:Jennie Goutet
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Cedar Fort Publishing
Published: 2019-04-09T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty

Lord Worthing led Eleanor to a place in the center of the room, and she faced him, filled with the awareness of his solid presence as he bent his head toward hers. The pressure of his hand on her back was light, and every nerve tingled at his proximity. Then the music began. She knew how to waltz—had learned in school—but this was nothing like waltzing with the thick-waisted dancing teacher who smelled like sausage. This was magic.

The lights and sounds whirled by, the colors of other couples spinning, the music compelling their three-step movements, and Lord Worthing holding her, grounded, as they moved. She spun in his arms, and their eyes met as he guided her across the floor. She knew she should speak. A good dancing partner should say something, but she could find nothing to say that was not so utterly mundane as to break the spell. He didn’t speak either, but only pulled her closer until their heartbeats pulsed in concert, their steps intertwined.

Too soon, the music finished, and the room stopped spinning. Eleanor returned her gaze to Lord Worthing, who remained frozen, his eyes examining every inch of her face. The corners of his mouth turned up, though it looked like it cost him. “Thank you, Miss Daventry.”

She answered with a dip of her head, and in silence, Lord Worthing led her off the dance floor. They stood on the sidelines for a full minute before he turned to her and smiled,. How could a man with such rigid, stern features have such a warm smile?

“Miss Daventry, you dance very well. If you were not staying with Lydia, who must have taught you by now, I would not have dared ask Lady Sefton’s permission to invite you to waltz.”

She matched his light tone. “Miss Spencer’s Academy was quite progressive, I’ll have you know. She hired a dance teacher who instructed us in everything, including the waltz. Miss Spencer knew it would become the rage before the local matrons did and didn’t want one of her students bringing her shame.”

“And who was your teacher?” He frowned, and she allowed herself the luxury of wondering if it was from jealousy.

“Oh, an older gentleman with a paunch. His feet were nimble though.” She grinned as Lord Worthing let out a laugh.

On the edge of the room, Miss Broadmore was threading her way through the crowd, and Eleanor felt a flash of irritation. She will be wishing for a dance too, I’m sure. Focusing again on Lord Worthing, she said, “Thank you for honoring me with your invitation. I know there are some who are still waiting for partners.”

“The honor is mine,” he returned, with a bow. “Let me lead you over to the refreshment table. I believe Lydia said you’ve no other dances lined up as yet.”

“As a matter of fact, Lord Carlton has requested the first quadrille, and Sir Braxsen and Major Fitzwilliam both promised they would ask. Mr. Weatherby was kind enough to offer as well.

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