A Night to Surrender (Spindle Cove #1)(88)

It was a lovely, silly dream.

But that was before they’d argued on the turret. Before he’d accused her of being mistrustful and afraid. Difficult to imagine simply donning a pretty dress would change his opinions on that. And if a pretty dress was all it took—she wasn’t so sure she’d retain her respect for him.

“I need to speak with you,” he said low. He turned a glance around the crowded room. “Somewhere else. Somewhere private.”

“Private?”

Kate’s piano scales suddenly ceased, and Susanna’s heartbeat kicked into a faster rhythm than ever. The wainscoted walls began to press in on her, and she felt the scrutiny of every soul in the crowded room. She cast a glance around the hall, looking around at her assembled friends, neighbors, servants. Just as she’d suspected, everyone was watching them. Noticing. Wondering.

Well . . . good.

Not just good. Excellent. The anxious weight in her stomach dissolved into bubbles of giddy joy, fizzing through her like fine champagne. Suddenly, she knew exactly what to do.

“Dance with me.”

He blinked at her. “What?”

“Dance with me,” she repeated.

“Dance with you. You mean tomorrow night, at the officers’ ball?

She shook her head. “No, I mean here. Now.”

What kind of a modern woman was she, if she didn’t reach for her own dream? Maybe it was time to sweep the man off his feet, for a change. She untied her work apron at the back and lifted it over her head, tossing it over the banister and smoothing the wrinkles from her blush-pink frock. It wasn’t a voluminous, dazzling silk cloud, but it would have to do.

“Miss Taylor,” she called, slicking back a stray lock of hair, “do play a waltz for us?”

Bram shifted his weight, eyeing her with what seemed to be genuine alarm. “I’m not much of a dancer.”

“Oh, that’s all right. Neither am I.” She lifted little Daisy from his arms and passed the babe to a nearby chambermaid. “Kindly make it a slow waltz, Miss Taylor.”

“Never had much practice at all, even before this.” He gestured toward his injured knee.

“It doesn’t matter.” She took his hands and tugged him toward the center of the hall. “We’ll manage.”

Space cleared around them as the curious onlookers pressed to the margins of the room. Kate’s talented fingers sent the first few measures of a melodic waltz lilting from the pianoforte.

Susanna stood in front of him in the center of the floor, lifting his left hand in hers and placing his other hand on her waist. “Now, let’s see. How does this go?”

“Like this.” His right hand slid, sure and confident, to the space between her shoulder blades, and a quick flex of his arm snapped her close.

Her breath caught in a gasp of delight.

He seemed to have realized that he had two options, and escaping this dance wasn’t one of them. He could either appear coerced and uncomfortable in front of all these people, or he could take control.

No surprise he chose the latter.

“Ready?” he asked.

She managed a nod.

With commanding grace and a slight, endearing limp, he waltzed her across the room.

And it was a dream come true.

They moved in perfect time to the music. Susanna suspected that was because Kate laid a syncopated pause on the third beat of each measure, to allow for their halting steps. So perhaps the music moved in time to them, but it was magical all the same.

He sent her into one turn, then another. Her flounced skirt swirled around her ankles, in little eddies of pink froth. And the sun, progressing on its slow slide toward the horizon, just then ratcheted a notch lower in the sky. So that its amber rays streamed straight through the bank of plate-glass windows lining one side of the hall. The ancient, warped glass took that day-worn light and made it precious, painting the room and all its occupants a glittering corona.

But no one caught more magnificence than Bram. Rosy fingers of light shone through the fine hairs at his brow. The melting afternoon lay like gold plate on his shoulders. Brilliant, shining armor. And he bore up under the weight of it beautifully, whirling her across the freshly waxed parquet. She heard more than one young lady’s wistful sigh.

It was just like something from a fairy tale.

He stared deep into her eyes. Little sparks danced in his wide, dark pupils. “Are you going to tell me why we’re doing this?”

She nodded. “You were right the other day, when you accused me of being afraid.”

“I shouldn’t have said—”

“Don’t. You were right. I have been afraid. You see, I’ve always told the ladies that Spindle Cove is a safe place for them. A place where a woman can be her best and truest self, regardless of what anyone thinks. But for the past few weeks, that hasn’t been the case for me. I’ve been hiding a part of my true self. This vital, growing part of me that holds all my feelings for you. I’ve been keeping it a secret from everyone, convinced I daren’t tell a soul.”

The music went on, but they twirled to a halt.

“But that’s ridiculous, isn’t it? And unfair to us both. When I looked at you just now, I knew. I knew in my heart, I couldn’t conceal it one minute more. I wanted to dance with you. I wanted everyone to see us.” A lump rose in her throat. “To see me, in love with you.”