Page 10 of A Duchess in Ten Days (Icy Dukes #2)

CHAPTER FIVE

" L avinia, you're late."

Andrew's voice carried across the room with its usual commanding tone, making Lavinia flinch. Her pulse raced as she stepped into the room, her slippers soundless against the polished wooden floor. She shut the door behind her, leaning against it for a moment as she tried to steady her breathing.

"We cannot be seen like this, Your Grace," she whispered, her voice low and urgent. "We are guests of the Pembrokes. Couldn't this lesson wait until after the house party comes to an end?"

"Absolutely not," he said. "Time is of the essence, Lavinia, and so is your progress. Come."

Lavinia stared at his outstretched hand, her stomach knotting with a mix of apprehension and indignation. "This feels reckless," she murmured, though she didn't move. Her eyes darted to the door again, her heart hammering at the thought of someone walking in.

"Lavinia, come."

"What if someone walks in?"

"No one is going to walk in," he answered. "Can we start? Or would you rather chase Lord Grove away with your poor dancing skills?"

Reluctantly, she shook her head. Deep down, she knew the lessons were important, but was it worth the risk of being seen with Andrew when rumors had started about her and Lord Grove's budding romance?

"All right," she finally said. Her body remained stiff and her movements jerky as she positioned herself in front of him. "But if we get caught together you better have a good explanation ready to go."

"Relax," he said, reaching for her waist. "This should be quick. I only have a few pointers."

Lavinia's breath caught as Andrew's hand settled on her back, his finger brushing against her in a light, almost imperceptible touch. Her eyebrows furrowed and she instinctively stepped back, confused by her own reaction to his touch.

"What is it?" he asked, searching her eyes.

"Nothing," she answered and managed to clear her throat. "I just...I wasn't ready."

He reached again, and this time, his hand stood firm around her waist as he guided her into the first step. The proximity between them was so intimate it made her stomach flutter, and when his finger brushed lightly against her back again, she jolted as though struck by lightning.

"Step here," he instructed, staring at her right leg. His voice was oddly calm considering the closeness of their bodies in the quiet room.

She did as he said, her foot moving where his hand indicated, but the distance between them seemed to shrink with each passing moment.

She tried not to stare at him, to just listen to his prompts as he guided her.

But it was difficult to ignore his effect when she could feel his breathing on her neck.

His hand at her waist was firm, and she couldn't help but be acutely aware of it. ..almost too aware.

It had not been like this the day before when they danced at the evening ball.

"Your steps are too hesitant," Andrew said and paused mid step. "Try to flow with the music...I know there's no music right now, but you still need to flow. Watch me, and follow my lead. There is no rush. Relax your body."

She tried again, but the tension in her limbs refused to ease. She stumbled slightly, catching herself just in time. "Apologies, Your Grace."

His hand shifted on her waist, his grip more insistent as he guided her closer to him.

Lavinia felt a rush of warmth at the proximity, her breath catching.

"Footwork first. Keep your weight centered over your feet.

The waltz isn't about speed, it's about grace.

You must glide," he said. He moved his hand to her lower back, pulling her slightly closer, his touch firm but not unkind.

The shift in position sent a ripple of awareness through her, and she stiffened, trying not to let it show.

"You're stiff again," he noted.

"I'm not a very good dancer."

He raised an eyebrow, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Clearly," he teased. "You've been attending balls for years, your moves shouldn't be this rusty."

"I don't dance at balls," she mumbled, but loud enough for him to hear.

"Then what do you do at balls?" he questioned.

"I stand by the wall," she said quietly, her gaze now fixed on the floor.

"Ah, a wallflower," he said with a slight chuckle, his hand still gently guiding her through the steps. "That's a dangerous habit, Lavinia. Standing on the sidelines, waiting for something to happen to you."

She shook her head. "It's not dangerous. It's safer that way."

"Safer?" he repeated, his voice tinged with amusement. "You really think standing back and letting life pass you by is safe? Tell me, what's so frightening about stepping forward?"

Lavinia hesitated. She didn't want to explain herself, but she knew that if she remained quiet, Andrew was going to see right through her and he would tease her about it. He had done it before.

"Let me guess," Andrew said, tilting his head to the side.

"Don't," she interrupted him. "I don't belong on the dance floor," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm not...I'm not like the other ladies. I've tried, but I don't know how to be. It's been plaguing me for years."

Andrew was quiet for a moment, and she was tempted to lift her head and look up at him, but she didn't. "Everyone belongs, Lavinia. What you lack is the courage to believe it. You don't need to be like anyone else. You just need to step into the moment."

Lavinia felt his hand press more firmly against her back, guiding her forward with a gentleness that only seemed to heighten the tension between them.

"Not everyone has your confidence, Your Grace," she managed to say. "It's admirable, but not everyone can just...believe and it'll magically be."

"It's not magic. It's a choice, Lavinia. You choose to believe in yourself, or you let fear decide for you."

Lavinia's eyes flickered up to meet his for the first time in their dance. His gaze was unwavering, as though he could see right through her, into the doubts and insecurities she had hidden away for so long. Her chest tightened, but she refused to look away.

"Like right now, you're choosing to look me in the eye when you clearly have trouble with eye contact," he whispered.

Lavinia froze, taken aback by the intensity in his voice. Her heart skipped a beat, and she accidentally stepped on his foot again, causing him to wince. Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but she tried to hide it.

"Sorry," she said under her breath, hoping the awkwardness would pass.

Andrew's lips twitched in amusement. "Are you nervous, Lavinia?"

She was taken aback by the question. Nervous? Of course she was nervous! Everything about this was unfamiliar and unsettling. But she refused to admit it. Instead, she gave him a sharp, defiant look.

"No," she said, a bit too quickly. "I'm not nervous. I'm not interested in you, so there's no reason to be nervous. I told you, I'm a bad dancer."

Andrew smiled brightly. "Really? You're not?"

"Not at all," she answered, trying to brush off the lingering tension. She didn't want to get caught in any of his games.

"So, what would make you nervous?" he asked, his head tilted slightly, studying her intently. His curiosity was genuine, but there was also something more teasing in his gaze.

"Marriage," she admitted quietly, her gaze falling to the floor for a moment. "The idea of it makes me nervous if I am totally honest."

Andrew's gaze shifted and he squinted his eyes. "The idea of marriage makes you nervous? How? I thought you wanted to get married."

"I do," she answered. "But...I keep thinking of the ‘how' and not the act in itself. How am I going to get married? Would it be for love, or out of necessity?"

"Ah," he said and smiled. "I remember. You want love."

"It's not wrong, Your Grace," Lavinia said.

"You might think it's silly, but it was all I ever wanted.

Love above all else. It didn't matter who the gentleman was, I just had to be in love with him for me to marry him.

I've always imagined what it would be like to have a loving family.

A home filled with warmth, with someone who truly cares.

To belong somewhere...to someone. It's not wrong to want that. "

"But marriage is never simple, Lavinia. There's always an element of necessity. Whether it's for status, security, or companionship, the idea of love can get lost in the mix," Andrew said.

Lavinia shook her head. "You speak just like my father."

Andrew's expression hardened slightly, but his tone remained calm. "I am being realistic, Lavinia. I know what hope does to people."

"I know," she said. "I also know that I am desperate, so I can't really pick and choose. I just don't want to end up settling for someone because it's what's expected of me. I want to feel like I'm choosing him. Not just...falling into it because I have no other option."

"You will have that choice," he said to her. "That's why I'm here. To give you options."

Lavinia smiled, a small but genuine curve of her lips. She didn't know why, but something in his words made her feel confident. He looked certain, so she felt certain.

As they continued to dance, her steps grew less hesitant, more fluid, like her body was starting to trust him more. Lavinia's gaze met his and she didn't look away. It had stopped being awkward.