“Yes, lots of people I’ll not know.”
“You’ll come to know them. And best of all, we shall dance.” He strolled into the room and held out his hand. “Dance with me now.”
She snapped her head up. “Are you daft?”
“Probably. But I want very desperately to dance with you.”
“But there’s no music—”
“I can hum.”
Whatever was wrong with him? Why was this need to dance with her so strong?
Laughing sweetly, she rose. “Very well.”
She came around her desk. “As I recall, I’m supposed to stand on your toes.”
He chuckled. It was the way the old gent had danced with her. He’d seen that they had lessons, so many lessons. Why did Frannie feel as though she needed more now? Surely she’d not forgotten everything they’d been taught.
“The movements are the same but you keep your feet on the floor.” He placed one of her hands on his shoulder, took the other in his, settled his free hand on her waist.
He began to hum the tune that had been playing while he’d danced with Catherine. And he moved Frannie in rhythm to his horrendous humming. The space was small. He couldn’t sweep her across the area, but it was enough.
With Frannie in his arms, his body didn’t tighten, his mind didn’t bring forth carnal images. He told himself it was because when he looked down on her, all he saw was buttons and cloth. When he looked down on Catherine, an entirely different portrait emerged. He saw clearly the swell of her breasts, the gentle slope of her throat. He saw her smile. The joy reflected in her blue eyes.
He stopped waltzing and very subtlety drew Frannie a fraction nearer. He cradled her chin as though it was made of the finest porcelain, as though it could so easily shatter. He watched as her eyes widened slightly, as her tongue darted out to dampen her lower lip. He felt a pleasant thrumming low in his belly.
He lowered his head, her eyes slid closed, and he, very gently, brushed his lips over hers, before drawing back.
“There, that wasn’t so bad was it?” he asked.
Nor was it particularly satisfying, but that would come in time, as she became more familiar with the physical nature of men.
She shook her head. “No, not at all.”
“I adore you.”
“I know.”
He stroked his thumb over her bottom lip. He should want to lean back in for another kiss. Lord knew he could never seem to get enough of the taste of Catherine. And yet what he and Frannie had shared seemed to be quite…adequate.
Adequete. Not passionate, not fiery, not all-consuming.
Civilized. Not barbaric, not beastly, not untamed.
Proper. Not scandalous, not to be whispered about, not disgraceful.
“What’s wrong?” Frannie asked.
And he realized he was scowling, his brow furrowed so deeply he was going to give himself another one of his blinding headaches.
Shaking his head, he released her and stepped back. “Nothing. Nothing at all.”
But something was terribly wrong, because he was doubting his affection for Frannie, something he’d never done.
“Was Catherine at the ball?” Frannie asked.
“She was.”
“Did you dance with her?”
He turned away slightly. “I did.”
Why did he feel guilty? It wasn’t as though he’d bedded her. It had been an innocent dance. But it hadn’t felt innocent.
“What was she wearing?”
“What all ladies wear. A ball gown.”
“You’d make a horrendous society writer.” Frannie returned to her chair behind her desk. “I’ll wager she looked beautiful.”
“I’ll not take you up on that wager as she always looks beautiful.”
“Why has she not married, do you think?”
“Because she is too opinionated, willful, argumentative. A man wants peace in his household, and with her, a man would never find peace.”
“So you think marriage to me would be peaceful?”
“I do.”
“And that’s what you want? Peace?”
“I want contentment.”
“Do you find me boring?”
“Of course not.”
“Sometimes I wonder, sometimes I fear that I am. I sit here with all these numbers, and they seem so unexciting.”
“Nothing about you is unexciting. I look forward to the time we spend together.” He sat in the chair across from her. “There just seems to be so little of it of late.”
As though to punctuate his words a rap on the door sounded. Luke glanced over his shoulder to see Jim standing uncertainly in the doorway. “Didn’t mean to interrupt, but Jack said he couldn’t get your attention earlier, and I’ve got something I thought you might be interested in.”