What the Duke Wants(8)

He placed his hand at Carlotta’s waist, squeezing it slightly as he drew her in so that their bodies were separated by a respectable distance. A moment later, her hand rested on his shoulder, even as her gaze was firmly set on the location of his cravat. After grasping her hand and arching it out, he began to lead.

And all semblance this waltz had to a million others he had danced in his past ended in a breath. He had danced with a great many women in his day, but none of them compared with her.

His hand burned where it touched hers, causing the heat to crawl up his arm, burst through his chest and ignite a passion he would rather have remained hidden. The scent of lemon and lilac rose from her skin, inviting and fragrant and intoxicatingly alluring. Her steps were light, her body the perfect size and shape, the shape being all too close to the forefront of his mind as his hand rested on her waist.

He guided her through the steps, using the subtlest of cues for his direction and finding her flawlessly attentive. Her steps were graceful, and though her gaze hadn’t lifted to his, he was shamelessly memorizing the heightened color of her cheeks, the delighted curve of her smile and her enjoyment made his complete.

Till she glanced up.

And he was reminded just how dangerous this dance could truly be. The music continued, reaching a crescendo that pulled him into the melody, and without forethought, he pulled her in tighter till he could feel her warmth.

Only when she stiffened and her gaze shifted back to his cravat did he realize what he was doing.

Only then did he remember that they had an audience.

A very young audience.

“That, Miss Bethanny, is how you waltz.” He slowly released Carlotta as the music ended, his gaze never leaving her face. Then he lost himself in her green depths as her gaze rose to meet his.

“Oh,” came Bethanny’s breathless reply.

“Thank you, your grace.” Carlotta curtseyed and, if he wasn’t mistaken, her tone was deeper, husky… affected.

“The pleasure was mine.” He bowed and then glanced away and into the faces of his three wards, all wearing very different expressions.

Bethanny’s lips were split into an excited grin. The one on the piano, Beatrix? She was blushing as she averted her gaze while she stacked her music and the youngest… Robert-something, started twirling with an invisible partner.

With a bow to the governess, he quit the room, his lips curving into a grin as he relived the sensation of her in his arms. But as soon as the delightful thoughts tumbled through his mind, he remembered her station.

And his.

And how foolish it was to entertain even the slightest attachment.

But bloody hell, if she wasn’t perfection in his arms, then he didn’t know what was.

****

“Let’s have some tea, shall we girls?” Carlotta said as soon as the door closed behind the duke. She needed something, anything to distract her from the spell he had expertly woven around them while they danced.

If she’d ever doubted the rumors of his nature before, she believed them now. The man had practically turned the waltz into a ruining experience.

It was delicious.

And wrong. Very, very wrong.

He was her employer, and a duke, for heaven’s sake! She could not let herself be affected by him.

She would not let him affect her.

“Miss Lottie! Do you think his grace will dance with me when I’m older?” Berty asked, her eyes wide with hope. “I’ve never seen anything so beautiful!” She sighed happily as she danced around the room, mimicking the waltz.

“Perhaps,” Carlotta answered, her composure returning as she watched Berty twirl.

“He’s a very good dancer,” Beatrix commented as she stood from the piano. “You both are. I hope I’m as graceful as you, Miss Lottie,” the girl added with a shy smile.

“I’m sure you’ll be much more graceful than I, Beatrix,” Carlotta answered with an answering grin.

“Is…I don’t mean to question, Miss Lottie, but was that how close the waltz is?” Bethanny asked, her brow pinched.

Carlotta felt her face flush. “Not exactly, when you dance you’ll want to maintain a bit more distance.”

“Why?” Berty asked, pausing in her dance.

“For propriety’s sake. The waltz is a very controversial dance, you see.”

“Why?” she asked, again. Carlotta was discovering it was the child’s favorite question.

“For many reasons, first, you are only with one partner not moving about like in a reel. Second, you are holding hands with the gentleman you are dancing with.”

“Oh. That was my favorite part.” Berty’s shoulders slumped.

“If it’s not proper though, why did you and the duke dance so close?” Beatrix asked, her eyes narrowing in confusion.

Carlotta opened her mouth to give some sort of reply, one she hadn’t quite thought up yet, and was interrupted.

“Because… he’s the duke and he may dance how he wants,” Berty answered with a decisive nod.

“And there you have it.” Carlotta nodded as well, thankful for the little girl’s statement.

“Now, I believe I mentioned tea?” She spoke with a smile. Anything to get their little minds off the most beautiful waltz she’d ever experienced.

****

It was day four of the horrific rain. And Charles was feeling all the good will of a spring stag. He had finished all his paperwork, his estate business and anything else he could find. There was one final piece of business to which he had to attend.