Arabella admitted for all to hear, “I am afraid I lack your talent, Miss Jenkins.”
“Would you like to sing? I may not have any music for a voice as, ahh, rich as yours,” Lilly began to shuffle through sheet music, “but you could always sing an octave below.”
“Lilly.” Her mama raised her eyes from her needlepoint and fixed a stare at her eldest daughter. “Lady Iliffe does not wish to perform for you.”
With just a few words, Mr. Harrow earned a pleased smile on Lilly’s pretty lips. “Do not fault Lady Iliffe, Miss Jenkins. It is too great a challenge to follow such skill.”
Arabella agreed. “You are correct, Mr. Harrow. I cannot play the pianoforte.”
Lilly chimed, tone innocent, intention mean, “You cannot play, and you do not dance...”
Now on that point Lilly was wrong, though the Jenkins’ would never consider the swaying hips of Romani dancing girl anything but vulgar. A twitch at the corner of her lips, Arabella said, “I danced before I was married. I enjoyed it then. But it has been so long, that I no longer remember the steps.”
Dancing was key to social standing, to finding a mate, to interacting at parties in general. To openly admit such a wanting trait was preposterous... publicly damning. Astounded, Lilly asked, “To even a quadrille?”
Arabella shook her head.
“Lilly!” Lizzy called out, “Play a minuet so I may teach her.” The eager girl rushed to her new friend, assuring, “That one is the easiest.”
Arabella had not meant to incite an impromptu lesson and tried to politely decline, but Lizzy was on her, pulling her to stand, Edmund already shifting the couch to make spa
ce.
“It is improper for two young ladies to dance,” Mrs. Jenkins corrected. “Partner her, Edmund. You are a fine dancer.”
“But, mother...” Lizzy pouted, disappointed to have her friend taken away.
Standing from the pianoforte, Lilly argued, “She will never properly learn a minuet with only one couple dancing,”
Setting aside her needle point, Mrs. Jenkins picked up on the subtle cue. “You are correct, my girl. Mr. Harrow, would you kindly partner Lilly? And, Lizzy, you must play for the room.”
The youngest had no interest in performing, but reluctantly did as she was told.
Lilly was an exacting teacher. But over the lesson Arabella kept her opinion hidden behind a blank face as she took Edmund’s hand, repeated a step, a bow, twirled. Over an hour later, she danced the whole thing, partner exchanges and all, flawlessly... that was until Mr. Harrow took her hand and squeezed her fingers.
She moved out of time.
“Try not to step on my toes, your ladyship,” he mumbled as they came together and separated in the form.
“Perhaps if you did not have such big feet...” Arabella countered, spun, then moved back to stand beside Edmund.
Mr. Harrow leered at her statement, meeting her eyes as if he knew how much she hated this.
At long last the dinner bell declared the dance lesson complete.
Arabella’s relief was so obvious, Lilly snickered, “What woman dislikes dancing?”
“I do not dislike it.” Arabella said, stepping away. “It just does not occur to me.”
As he offered his arm to Lilly, Mr. Harrow mocked the baroness for good measure, “And how could it? The baroness spends her time far more productively, exploring the moors and frightening the locals with her devil horse.” Leaning down toward the brunette beauty at his side, he spoke in hushed tones as if sharing a secret, “Did you know, Miss Jenkins, the baroness rides her beast with no saddle or bridle?”
Lilly snickered behind her hand. “How savage.”
Arabella could not help but smirk at the statement. Yes, it was savage... and glorious. Green eyes glowing, she explained what the pacified and confined Jenkins family would probably never grasp in their bland existence, “Unless you have ridden a dangerous beast with nothing but your hands tangled in his hair, you could never feel the glorious triumph of the moment. The act ties the brute to you to a point that you would never be thrown... to the point you are one—unrestrained and beautiful.”
Clearing his throat, Edmund swallowed.
Mr. Harrow coldly interjected. “I do believe you’ve scandalized Edmund, Lady Iliffe. Perhaps you should be cautious of your speeches on horsemanship in the future.”