by Gayle Callen
“Nonsense,” Louisa said.
He liked the practicality in her tone.
“He’s just trying to make excuses for why I won’t be able to dance like one,” Louisa continued. “There are a lot of steps in the quadrille, and I’m sure I will be able to recreate the man’s part.”
But it was harder than it seemed. Georgie guided Simon over to the piano, where he listened to Mrs. Calbert keep up a running commentary on the dancing while she played.
In the middle of the dance, Louisa would curtsy when she was supposed to bow, step on Georgie’s feet when she moved during the lady’s steps.
“Oh, dear,” Mrs. Calbert said, ending the song on a discordant note. “They’ve both fallen to their knees.”
The laughter went on so long that Simon thought their stomachs would be aching. It was good to hear Georgie enjoying herself.
“So much for my playing the part of a man,” Louisa said shakily. “Later we’ll just keep doing the women’s steps ourselves, side by side. But for now, while we have a man available, I suggest we waltz.”
Simon tensed as neither of the other two women answered. She was actually challenging him. Was he going to sit here and not try? Georgie needed him, and the least he could do was partner her.
He rose to his feet and took a deep breath. “I know a dare when I hear one.”
For a moment, Louisa said nothing, and he realized he’d rendered her speechless.
“You did waltz well, my lord,” she finally said. “I saw you once at a ball.”
“You noticed Simon in a crush of people?” Georgie asked.
He frowned at how amazed she sounded. Women often used to notice him, he wanted to say. But it wasn’t exactly appropriate to confide that to his eighteen-year-old sister.
“Of course I noticed him,” Louisa said. “He has all that blond hair. And the lady I was talking to was quite mad for him.”
“And who would that be?” Simon asked.
“Ladies never tell.”
For a moment, he thought of other things ladies never told. When Louisa touched his arm, and her perfume enveloped him, he barely kept from flinching. What had seemed like an acceptable challenge now seemed like a dreadful risk.
“I’ll watch you two dance,” Georgie said.
Simon frowned. “But I thought you and I were going to—”
“Oh it’s been many months since I waltzed.”
“Me, too,” he said dryly.
“But you waltzed for years. You’ll remember with Louisa, and then you’ll dance with me. Go ahead.”
Simon heard the first flow of music, and he stood frozen, feeling self-conscious and ridiculous. There was nothing but air all around him, and he was adrift. And then he felt the brush of Louisa’s skirt against his legs, felt her hand coming to rest on his shoulder. It was natural to slide his hand around her waist, to take her other hand in his.
She wasn’t wearing gloves. Her skin was warm and dry, and suddenly he wondered if his palms were sweaty. And then he took a step and she was with him, twirling lightly in his arms. He didn’t know where he was on the dance floor, but she did, and with subtle pressure, led him as he once would have led her. The rhythm of the dance caught him, and his feet moved effortlessly. If he could see, he would be looking down into her eyes. He didn’t even know what his expression looked like to her.
This was too serious, too…on display.
“Do you see, Georgie?” Louisa called.
Simon thought she sounded breathless, and he imagined how breathless he could make her in bed. He found himself tightening his hold. He could feel the muscles in her back as she moved, and their thighs brushed as he whirled her ever closer.
“Simon is displaying the correct dancing posture for the man,” Louisa continued. “You can use that to help you remember your own form.”
Her voice sounded ever fainter. Her hand clutched at his shoulder.
He had to put a stop to this before their attraction to each other was obvious to everyone. He let his arm go limp, and hers did, too. She stumbled against him, her shoulder hitting his chest, before she righted herself.
“Now you see why you each must hold yourselves erect,” Simon said. “Your arms should be taut, not as collapsible as a string.”
“What else should I look for?” Georgie called.
Long ago, from across ballrooms Louisa had watched Simon waltz and had longed to be in his arms, the recipient of his playful smile and his single-minded attention. She hadn’t known his name then, had only caught glimpses of him in the crush at parties. But she’d envied the other ladies who’d known him well enough to be asked to dance.
But in this private dance he wasn’t smiling. And he wasn’t seeing her of course, but oh how she’d come to bask in the focus that was all his. They’d moved together like he’d never stopped dancing, like his lack of sight didn’t matter. It was all body to body, taking cues from each other. And he’d allowed her to lead him about the ballroom floor without complaint.
But it was too dangerous. He was wise to change this lesson into a demonstration. His hand crept up her back until she was forced to lift her elbow higher and higher.
“A bad waltz partner will leave you flapping your arm like a bird,” Simon told his sister.
“But how can I stop him?” Georgie asked.
Louisa pushed his forearm down. “Like this. It will be better to embarrass him for a moment.”
Then Simon pulled her right up against him, and with a squeak she tried to push away. His thigh dipped hard between hers, and she was shocked by the surge of pleasure. It was sinful, and far too embarrassing with Georgie in the room. And Louisa wanted desperately to be alone with him.
Georgie laughed. “Louisa is trying to move you back, Simon. What do I do if my partner won’t?”
“You stop dancing,” Louisa said, dropping her arms and giving a final push. Simon stepped away. “A gentleman will understand that he took liberties with you which he must not. You should conclude that he is a rake, and must be avoided.”
Was she trying to convince herself?
“Simon, you never danced like that,” Georgie said, shaking her head.
He put a hand to his heart. “Never.”
Georgie rushed forward. “My turn!”
Louisa gladly backed away and let her pupil dance with Simon. He was all smiles and decorum for his sister.
“Now, Georgie,” he said patiently, “the men you’ll dance with will lead you. But with me, you’re going to have to lead. Otherwise we’ll ram into a wall or go through a window.”
“Oh.” She controlled her giggle. “I don’t know how to lead.”
“It’s all done with pressure. I’ll show you.”
Louisa sat down beside the piano and exchanged smiles with Mrs. Calbert as the woman began to play another waltz. Louisa reminded herself that it was good to see Simon instructing Georgie, to see him taking a risk by dancing. Maybe it was one step closer to seeing him attend a ball again. Although it would be much riskier for him to dance with dozens of couples at once. But this was a good start.
Though she wanted to see him thrive, she didn’t want to be the woman he turned to because she was the only one available.
Chapter 10
In the morning, all three ladies left for London, and Simon remained at home. Georgie had tried to talk him into joining them for the day, but he claimed visiting dressmakers was a woman’s duty, not a man’s. Louisa and Georgie would be well chaperoned by his grandmother, who loved to shop.
When they had gone, the house seemed empty. Oh, there were servants bustling about, and a bailiff from a nearby estate who needed to speak with him.
But Simon accepted the fact that he was lonely. He reminded himself that his grandmother and sister brought him happiness with their conversations and their caring.
But somehow Louisa Shelby had become important to him. Her no-nonsense compassion moved him, rather than making him feel beholden to her.
; And he didn’t know what to do about it.
How could he be worried about her reputation one minute, and wanting to ruin it himself the next?
The women were home in time for dinner, and Simon joined them. He liked listening to the sound of their voices talking about the coffeehouse they’d stopped at for luncheon, or the old friends they’d met on the street. Louisa had praised Georgie’s new wardrobe, until he could practically hear his sister’s pleased embarrassment. Whatever he might think of Louisa’s effect on Georgie’s acceptance in society, her cheerful, helpful company was doing Georgie a world of good.
He was her brother; he should be helping as much as he could. When they retired to the drawing room, he listened to her plink the piano keys, as if her thoughts were turning sad. He wanted her happy.
“Are you going to play a real song?” he asked. “I can’t make myself sing to that.”
There, he’d said it; he couldn’t take it back now. And the audience was only his family—and Louisa. Once upon a time, dozens of young ladies had stared enraptured as he sang. Surely this couldn’t be too difficult.
“You’ll sing with me?” Georgie said, her delight returning.
“Only if we sing a duet—one I know.”
Lady Wade gave a loud sigh. “My favorite way to spend an evening. You children are so good to me.”
When Simon rose to his feet, Manvil was there to guide him to the piano. He could hear Georgie paging through sheet music, and at the opening chords, he knew the song immediately. She had a musical ear, but a weak singing voice that she could never seem to make louder. He had the lungs to belt out anything he sang. He concentrated on her voice, trying to drown out his doubts and insecurities.
Why did he feel on display? Louisa was a woman he’d kissed, for God’s sake. But he’d come to hate being the focus of attention.
And Georgie had been so thrilled to accompany him, just as she’d done her whole life.
When the song ended, the butler announced Paul Reyburn, and Simon was relieved.
“Don’t stop on my account,” Paul said. “It’s good to hear you sing.”
Louisa tried not to show her disappointment at the arrival of Simon’s friend. She’d been enjoying the opportunity to stare freely at Simon. He kept his eyes closed while he sang, and she wondered if he was seeing the music in his head.
Or if again, he didn’t like to think of people staring at his blank eyes. Didn’t he understand that he was so easy to look at—and it had nothing to do with his eyes.
Georgie closed up the piano and escorted Simon over to sit near Mr. Reyburn.
“So how are the lessons going, Miss Wade?” Mr. Reyburn asked.
Louisa stared at the girl in surprise.
Georgie blushed. “I told him about them. He was sympathetic.” She turned and beamed at Mr. Reyburn. “We’ve ordered a new wardrobe. And I’m working on my dancing—I even danced with Simon.”
Mr. Reyburn glanced at Simon in surprise.
Simon shrugged. “Little sisters are such an annoyance.”
“Simon!” Georgie said.
“You know,” Louisa began slowly, “we were going to work on Miss Wade’s conversation skills. Mr. Reyburn, would you like to assist us?”
She saw Simon give her a small frown, but she ignored him. She didn’t want to demonstrate her skills with Simon. It would be too revealing of her feelings.
They treated it like a play, with Louisa and Georgie taking turns. Even Lady Wade got involved, contributing suggestions as to where Georgie should stand when she was first “introduced” to Mr. Reyburn. Simon didn’t say much, and Louisa found herself occasionally glancing at him. He had an amused expression on his face, but she knew how well he hid his feelings when he wanted to.
Louisa made the introductions, and Mr. Reyburn said all the polite things about the weather and the evening. When Georgie wasn’t trying to stop laughing, she answered well enough, but Louisa knew the true test would be with a stranger, when Georgie wasn’t relaxing at home with her family. They would have to begin accepting invitations when the first gowns of Georgie’s new wardrobe arrived. It was the only way she was going to put to use what they’d been practicing.
After Mr. Reyburn left, Georgie and Lady Wade stood up to retire. When Louisa was going to join them, Simon said, “Could you wait, Miss Shelby? I have something I want to discuss.”
Louisa’s uneasiness rose to the surface, along with a thread of anticipation that she couldn’t deny.
Lady Wade gave them a curious glance, but all she said was, “We’ll leave the door open.”
“I promise not to compromise her, Grandmama,” Simon said dryly.
“Simon!” his grandmother said sternly.
But finally Louisa was alone with Simon. She was seated on the sofa, and he was in a chair to her right.
Far too close.
“What do you wish to discuss, Simon?”
“Your conversational skills have always been formidable,” he said slowly.
She blinked at him. “Well, thank you. I always think it’s best to have many interests, to read books. A man appreciates that a woman can converse about something other than the weather. I’m working on that with your sister.”
“So now you’re a governess, too?”
“Of course not.”
“Forgive me, my own conversational abilities are lacking tonight. I can’t help wondering if these interested men you’re talking about were interested in what you were actually saying.”
She bristled. “Speak plainly, Simon.”
“A man doesn’t always say plainly what he’s implying.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Surely you know that there are some men who delight in teasing a woman.”
“And a woman should know how to deflect such a thing, even walk away.”
“But what if she doesn’t realize what is going on? What if he’s doing this for the amusement of his nearby friends?”
“Simon, what are you trying to say? I can’t prepare Georgie unless you speak plainly.”
He took a deep breath. “All right, let me give you a mild example. We’re introduced at a dance.”
Suddenly he leaned toward her and smiled so charmingly that she caught her breath.
“Miss Shelby, you are a wonderful dancer.” His voice was smooth and flowing, and did things to her insides that she had no name for.
Trying to remember her skepticism, she said, “Thank you, my lord.”
“I hear you’re a woman of many talents.”
“I do play the piano.” She didn’t understand what he was trying to say. It all sounded so normal—although said in his most elegant, charming way.
“Do you play the flute?”
“No, but I’ve always wanted to learn.”
“Then I’ll have to make sure you do.” With a sigh, he leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest.
It took her a moment to get over the spell of his attention. “What?” she demanded.
“There are some men, when they say they’ve heard that you’re a woman of many talents, are implying something…sordid.”
She gaped at him. “Talents as in…”
“In the bedroom.”
She felt her face flame. “That can’t be so.”
“And talking about making sure you learn to use a flute?”
“Yes?” She tensed.
“That can be an allusion to a man’s genitalia.”
She inhaled swiftly, and didn’t seem to know what to do with her hands. Thank God he couldn’t see her. “Really?” she whispered.
“Really. I’ve seen groups of men employ this technique just to amuse themselves for the evening.”
“Such scandalous men aren’t worth knowing,” she said primly.
“My point exactly. And in conversation, a woman needs to learn how to tell the difference. So often it’s in his expressions, in the way he holds his mouth, or glances to the side at his friends.
”
“Or by reputation?”
Simon hesitated. “There is that. One can never be too careful.” He rose to his feet, picking up his cane. “Manvil?”
His valet entered and came to his side.
“Think on what I’ve said, Louisa.” Simon put his hand on Manvil’s shoulder.
“How can I disillusion her?” she said, standing up to block his way. “She’s frightened enough. If I give her such knowledge, she’ll only speak to old ladies. I was never told such things, and I was just fine.”
He shrugged. “Were you? Or maybe you didn’t know what was going on. Good night, Louisa.”
She watched him leave, and inside, her nerves made her stomach ache. Had she had conversations where she didn’t understand the real meaning? She didn’t like how that could twist her memories. It just couldn’t be true.
Late that night, Simon couldn’t stay in his room any longer. He took to walking the corridors in frustration. He shouldn’t have explained the innuendoes to Louisa. She’d sounded genuinely horrified. How could someone acquire such a fast reputation and not know the intricacies of flirting with a rake?
He still hadn’t deciphered her motives for teaching Georgie. How could she simply want to help people? So she’d lost some friends when she’d come down in the world—hell, he knew all about that. But why give up London Society if one didn’t have to? Other women found ways to entertain themselves. Did she need someone to do it for her? Those kinds of women used to appeal to him. He’d always loved to entertain, and had enjoyed their attentions in return. But now he found that sort of helpless woman needy. He was no longer ”the entertainer,” a position he’d so valued his entire life. From childhood, he was the one who could make his parents laugh, and it took him many years to realize that it was the only time they seemed happy together.
Louisa had never struck him as the sort of woman who needed someone else to make her feel complete. Why was he so drawn to her? All right, he enjoyed the husky sound of her voice. He was grateful for the compassion she showed his grandmother and sister. And that perfume that lingered everywhere she’d been was enough to drive him wild.
