Chapter 7
“Let us talk again as we dance,” Luke said as he gently took hold of Miss Storey and led her side to side in their cotillion. He had only just taken her in his arms when he had to release her again to form the complex choreography of the number. “I would have preferred a waltz as we talked, but I will make do.”
“Why is that? So that we do not have to keep breaking off?” Miss Storey asked for emphasis as they had to part from each other’s side. They walked around other partners, returning to one another as the violins began to increase the pace of their tune.
“So that I did not have to release you,” he whispered to her, taking one of her hands as they walked around one another. He felt her hand stiffen in his, and her eyes narrowed on him. He laughed at her reaction, finding her behaviour with him was more and more enamouring with each passing minute.
“Did I bore you with my words?” he teased her drily, making her look away to the other couples. “Ah, perhaps I caught your interest instead.”
“Enough of this, my lord,” she urged as they came back to face one another again. In this part of the dance, they were forced to perform steps facing one another but without touching. The result had him itching to take her hand again. “I have given you my warning not to do this with me, and you are doing so regardless.”
“I have never been fond of following the rules.”
“You surprise me.” Her wryness caught his attention. It was something he was so often critiqued on that was part of his own humour, he had not expected it from her.
“Something tells me you are particularly keen to follow the rules given to you, Miss Storey.”
“Rules? Or propriety?” she asked as he was forced to stand still and offer his hand to her. She took it, allowing him to turn her under his arm. Her head flicked round, returning her eyes so quickly to his that he found himself gazing at that misty green colour for a second, remarking on the blue flecks within.
“You astound me,” he said in jest. “Are the two different?”
“Entirely!
“Are they really?” He pushed the matter as he took both of her hands, walking round in a circle with her. She seemed flummoxed for a second, not responding to his words but staring at him, her lips opening and closing. “You are talking my ear off this evening, Miss Storey.” He teased her once more, watching as she turned her head away.
“I am beginning to think you are insufferable.”
“Pray, do not think me that.” He laughed, turning them to face one another again as they returned to the beginning of the routine. “You can be in no doubt by now that I enjoy our conversations, hence why I asked you to dance again.”
“No, I do not believe that.” She turned her chin higher, challenging him in such a way that he found himself stepping nearer to her. “I believe you only wish to try and gain something you have been told you cannot have.”
“What is that?” He pretended innocence. She was saved from answering as they were forced to part ways once more and walk round the other couples. As he moved, Luke kept his eyes on her, not wanting to look far away from her.
She was different to other young ladies he had conversed with at such events as these. It wasn’t that she was younger than the usual ladies he spent his time with. It was that she had a greater independence of spirit, and when she showed the hints of lowering her barriers, he could sense someone else hiding beneath that propriety.
I want to know the real you, Miss Storey. Is that so awful a thing to long for?
When they came back together, he took one of her hands again, rather pleased to see she took his hand with equal fervour.
“You know exactly what that is, but let me tell you now,” she said, smiling up at him. “Charm me all you like, but I am immune to you.”
“Are you?” he said, tilting his head to the side. “Because I see you smile when you think you should not do so in my company.” Her lips instantly flattened.
“It is a trick of the candlelight when it falls on my cheeks. There is no smile there.”
“I wonder what it sounds like when you laugh.”
“I laugh.”
“Does a laugh equate to a small, well-fought smile?” he asked, turning them round as they were forced to release each other to perform the part of the dance that faced one another. He was pleased to see that she fought such a smile now, her cheeks twitching with the temptation to give way before her lips pressed flat again. “Something in me suspects you share a quality with my sister.”
“What is that?” she asked as they moved back and forth, staring at one another.
“She has mastered a false smile for situations where no smile is warranted. Can you do the same?” His words prompted a smile to instantly appear on her face, yet it was evidently fake. He laughed warmly at its appearance. “Are you giving me an example?”
“I am usually better at it than that,” she said, mocking herself. “It must be the challenging company I am now in that hampers my attempts.” He laughed all the more, wishing she would do the same, but she wouldn’t.
They walked around each other, taking one hand each. It was a more intimate position, allowing them to come close together so he could whisper to her.