Page 40 of The Bridal Quest

"Don't be absurd," she said, but her voice did not come out as sharply as she had intended.

"Very well, then," Francesca said, rising to her feet and settling her face back into a serious expression. "I apologize, Lord Radbourne, for listening too much to what others have said that you need. Perhaps we should start over. Maybe you have no need to polish your manners, in which case, there is really little reason for Lady Irene and me to be here. So I will ask you—is there any area in which you feel you could ... gain useful knowledge? Do something to make you fit in more easily with your new family and your peers? Or should Irene and I simply retire from our efforts?"

"No," he said without hesitation. "I am sure that you and Lady Irene can improve me. But I know as much as I care to about tableware. I have a valet who endeavors to keep me looking the part. And, as you said, I will have a wife to keep me informed as to the order of precedence on any occasion. I am aware that my speech is a trifle wrong, but I can tell you that I worked at some length to speak in the proper manner, and I am told that it is my nature, not my grammar, that is not quite up to snuff. So I have little hope—and admittedly, little interest—in learning how to speak like a swell." He paused, then added, "There is one area in which I would like to improve my skills. I am hopeless on the dance floor."

"Ah." Francesca looked pleased. "That, I am sure, is something that we can help you with." She looked over at Irene. "Don't you agree?"

"Yes, of course." Irene nodded.

They left the dining room and made their way to the music room. Irene had immediately seen the dangers inherent in teaching Gideon to dance. He would need to have a partner with whom to practice, and being his partner would require her to stand quite close to him the whole time, often with his hand on hers or even his arm around her. If being close to him at the table had stirred her in unaccustomed ways, she did not like to think of what she might feel while dancing with him.

"Why don't I play the piano?" she suggested as they entered the music room, heading for the piano where Francesca had played for Lady Odelia the evening before.

Francesca let out a little laugh. "Oh, no, my dear, you forget—I have heard you play. I think it will be better if I play the tune and you act as his lordship's partner."

Unfortunately, Irene knew that Francesca had the right of it. Irene was not musically gifted and had hated the tedium of daily practice, so she possessed only minimal skill at the piano. And both she and Francesca were well aware of that fact, as young unmarried ladies were often called upon to show off such talents at various social gatherings. If Irene insisted on playing, Francesca would know that there was something behind her stubbornness, and she had even less desire to set Francesca speculating on why she did not want to dance with Lord Radbourne than she did to dance with him.

"Of course." Irene gave in as gracefully as she could.

She glanced over at Gideon. He smiled at her in a way that told her that he understood why she had wanted to play the piano. Worse, he knew why she was reluctant to dance with him—not because she was repelled by him, but exactly the opposite. Quite despite her own wishes, she was attracted to him. She was afraid to be in his arms, to move to the music with him, because she was afraid of her own response.

"Shall we start with the waltz?" Francesca asked, going on without waiting for an answer. "I know it is not always done outside of London, but I think this will be a sophisticated enough gathering that it will be no problem. And it is the simplest to learn, I think. Irene, you explain the steps to Lord Radbourne while I find some music."

Irene turned to Gideon as Francesca started searching through the pile of sheet music on top of the piano. He held up his hand.

"I know the steps. I have been taught them. I am simply not expert at it. I think what I need is practice."

"Of course," Irene replied, goaded by the smugness in his smile into a determination to remain utterly cool and unaffected throughout the dancing lesson. "Shall we try a few steps without the music first?"

"If you wish." He held out his hand for hers, then drew her closer, putting his other hand at her waist.

His palm was heavy and warm upon her side, his grip firm, and she was very aware of just how large his hand was. It made her feel a little breathless to stand this close to him, to look up into his face from only a few inches away. He was, she thought, a rather overpowering man, and she had to remind herself that she, on the other hand, was a woman who was not easily dominated.

"The first thing to remember is that you must not grip a lady too tightly," she told him in an even tone. "Your hand should rest lightly at her waist."

He lifted his hand just a little, and she reached down and moved his thumb a bit so that it was in exactly the correct position.

"Now you must guide me in the direction we are going, but lightly. You must not be ham-handed about it, as if you are pulling and pushing a sack about. Merely a light pressure of your fingers. And you do not grip my other hand tightly, but cup it. Yes, just so. Now, let us start."

She began to count out the waltz, and they moved, their steps rather stiff and awkward.

Irene looked up at him and asked, somewhat suspiciously, "You are not pretending to be less able to dance than you really are, are you?"

He laughed. "No. I fear that this is, in fact, the way I dance."

"All you need is practice," Irene told him encouragingly.

"My dear lady, you have not taken refuge in the polite lie before. Please do not start now."

She had to chuckle. "All right. Then let me say truthfully that you are not the worst with whom I have taken a turn around the floor. Not the best, either, it is true. But I do believe that practice will bring improvement."

He bowed his head briefly in acknowledgment. "Thank you. Then we shall practice."

So they did, sweeping around the floor to Francesca's playing. Their task was made more difficult by the necessity of dodging the other pieces of furniture in the music room, which was not set up for dancing. But after knocking over a stool and backing into a chair, they paused to rearrange the chairs a little, forming a vaguely circular path around most of the impediments. They danced along it for a time or two, and Gideon began to relax and move less stiffly, without such concentration on his steps.

As his confidence increased, he looked more at her face and less at his feet. Indeed, he looked at her at such length that Irene felt a flush beginning to creep up into her cheeks.

"Have I grown a third eye, sir?" she asked somewhat sharply. "You have been staring at me far longer than is polite."