Page 35 of Surrender to the Earl (Brides of Redemption #2)

“They did.” He spoke in measured tones, as if he were trying not to sound victorious.

Audrey gritted her teeth—and then truly looked into her soul.

Was she going to sit in a corner asking for sympathy just because she didn’t want to risk being made a fool?

Or was her concern more about being held in Robert’s arms and fighting away all the emotions and passion his very touch inspired?

She had to conquer that, and delaying it would only make everything worse.

“Very well, I shall dance,” Audrey promised coolly. “Thank you for the invitation, my lord.”

“Oh good!” Blythe said, her voice practically gleeful. “And I promised this dance to the vicar’s son. He is quite too kind and good for me, but he looks like he can dance most excellently. Have a wonderful waltz!” Her slippers tapped quickly as she moved away.

Even as Audrey smiled, she heard Robert chuckle.

“I quite like the woman your sister is turning out to be,” he said.

“As do I. Miracles truly happen.”

“Then I’ll keep hoping.”

She ignored him, pretending she didn’t understand what he meant. And then he took her gloved hand in his as the opening bars of the music swelled.

“You’re trembling,” he murmured.

“It’s not as if I have ever danced in public before.”

“You will master this as you master everything you attempt. I have never admired anyone more in my life.”

She knew he was exaggerating but could not stop her blush. “Robert, this flirtation will get you nowhere.”

“Speaking the truth is always to be commended. Now come into my arms, Mrs. Blake, and relax.”

As if she could possibly relax, with his gloved hand holding hers, his big palm in the center of her back, each subtle pressure moving her about. She stumbled over his foot once or twice, but he held her up so effortlessly, she wasn’t certain anyone would have noticed her mistakes.

“Relax,” he breathed. “Smile.”

A genuine one came to her, and he gave her hand a squeeze.

“Feel the music,” he said. “I’ve heard you play, and music is in your very soul.”

She did relax then, letting him sweep her away into a swirl of dancers.

She felt the very movement of the air as the women’s swirling skirts passed her by.

She was dancing, actually dancing, in the arms of the most handsome man in the room, surely.

She felt like every other woman at that moment, no different, no better or worse.

She was dancing, trusting in Robert’s every movement.

Until the music seemed to fade behind her, and a cool evening breeze raised gooseflesh on her bare arms.

“Robert, where are we?”

“It was overly warm in there. I thought you might appreciate a moment to collect yourself after your first successful dance.”

“But where are we?”

“The terrace. It’s lit with torches in the corners, but there are suitable shadows where an engaged couple can quietly … speak.”

“Quietly speak?” she echoed dryly. “And what would you like to speak of?”

“Are you enjoying the evening thus far?”

She put her hands on the stone balustrade and tried to imagine the dark night, and perhaps the moon peering down on them. It could be a peaceful scene—but she did not feel peaceful with Robert’s sleeve brushing her.

“The evening is lovely, and my new neighbors are gracious and understanding. But you? You are not taking rejection well.”

He gave a low chuckle. “And I don’t plan to.”

Now his hand touched hers, side by side on the balustrade. She moved hers away, and when he followed, she gave up with a sigh and allowed it.

“You are being childish,” she said.

“I am courting you. If you let me kiss you, we’ll return to the dancing for the next waltz.”

“Then kiss me and be done with it, for your skill will not persuade me.”

“Skill? I am flattered.”

He drew her into his arms, her breasts to the hard planes of his chest, her skirts entwined with his legs. Her heartbeat quickened, and it was as if she couldn’t get enough air—all in reaction to his simplest touch. Why?

And then his lips met hers, soft and coaxing one moment, firm and commanding the next, demanding entrance to her mouth and insisting that she meet him in passion. And to her regret, she did, with an enthusiasm that was embarrassing and exhilarating at the same time.

At last he lifted his head, and she managed to say in a breathless voice, “There, we have scandalized our hostess enough.”

“Or made her sigh with the romance of it all.”

He was probably more correct than she was.

“But what if no one knows what we’re doing out here,” he continued, his arms still holding her firm against him, “and we’re discovered? You would have to marry me then.”

“I am a widow, Robert, given far more freedom than any maiden to have an affair. I cannot be forced into marriage by this sort of scandal.”

“Then we may have an affair?”

She groaned. “Not this again. You must let go of this fantasy of us together.”

“No.”

He wasn’t teasing now, she could hear it in his voice. He was determined, and for the first time, she wondered if he could defeat all of her promises to herself.

No, she wouldn’t let that happen. “Take me inside, please. I’m cold.”