Chapter 18 Graceful Dance
Suddenly very attentive, he nodded and complied. Gently, he placed his arm around her waist… He had never noticed before, but the duchess was shorter than he was. She had always seemed taller — far taller — yet he stood at least a head above her.
Despite himself, Oscar smiled. He took a few steps forward, careful not to step on her feet, before being sharply corrected.
“My Lord,” Lady Brynn said, “we are not enemies. Stop fleeing from me.”
He blushed, embarrassed.
“Oh no, I—I merely wished to avoid stepping on your feet.”
Madame Brown interjected at once.
“Young Master, you must dance with your partner — become one together in the dance. Stop focusing on Her Grace’s feet and move with more intent, will you.”
He nodded; easier said than done.
He felt the duchess take the lead, and soon enough they were tracing a few cautious, exceedingly slow steps. That suited him just fine. He focused first on his feet; then, noticing how gracefully she moved, he began to follow her rhythm. It was more pleasant than he had expected — far more so than practising with Madame Brown.
Against him, heart to heart, he felt the warmth of her body pressing against his. The folds of her dress swirled around him, and their legs crossed, embraced, then separated in a ceaseless dance. The room ceased to exist; he heard only their two breaths, like a whispered song.
They continued to dance; the duchess even increased the pace slightly. Oscar followed. As the minutes passed, he began noticing details. He could see more clearly the brooch holding the duchess’s hair — a butterfly brooch set with a few precious stones. It appeared rather plain at first glance, but he now perceived its true value. Another elegant detail to add to the image he held of her. As they continued, he caught her scent — rose, perhaps with a hint of jasmine. A classic fragrance, yet it suited her well, perfectly even. And he could not recall having smelled it on other women before—not that he had smelled many women at all.
The dance went on, her cherry hair swirling through the air as she clung to his arm. From so close, she was even more beautiful. Why had she never had suitors before? Surely there had been no shortage of young men ready to fall under her spell, odd habits notwithstanding.
As he imagined other men gathering beneath the duchess’s windows, declaiming insipid love letters with bouquets of wilted flowers, Oscar felt his chest tighten. Surely it was the dance.
Brynn offered him a light — slightly teasing — smile.
“My Lord, you are stepping on my foot.”
The fatal mistake — the very one he wished to avoid — had happened. He released her at once, apologising profusely, even offering a deeper bow than usual.
“I am truly sorry!”
She laughed softly, lifting her fan to cool herself.
“You dance rather well, even if I could feel you were distracted.”
In the background, Madame Brown shook her head, muttering pointed remarks under her breath.
The duchess turned toward the old woman and made an amused face.
“Still, my Lord, your dancing would be far better if you relaxed. You were stiff as a post—it was rather like dancing with a tree trunk…” She paused. “I do not mind, but it would be far more pleasant for you if you learned to follow the rhythm. Otherwise, you risk tiring yourself out far too quickly. Though…” She studied Oscar from head to toe. He felt a rush of heat rise to his cheeks. Damn this dance.
“You are remarkably resilient. Madame Brown told me she worked you to the bone yesterday, and now she has seen you enduring Sir Rossi’s blows… You are truly very enduring, and I should not worry about pushing you a little further in dance lessons.”
Unable to stop himself, he grimaced. She laughed behind her fan.
“You are not particularly fond of it, I see. I cannot fault you for that—but it is important, for you as much as for me.”
She seemed to reflect for a moment, her gaze drifting toward the window.
“If it is only dance—among other details—that you lack, I shall allow myself to join you. After all, if you are already accustomed to dancing with me, it will no doubt be easier for you on the day of the ball.”
“Every day?”
“Absolutely. It is the best way to improve.”
For reasons he could not explain, he felt his cheeks flush once more… He needed air.
They resumed dancing for another twenty minutes or so. Oscar did not complain. After a while, it was time for lunch — and quite naturally, the duchess invited him to accompany her.