"Dare I hope no less?" he said gravely. "I did not wish to offend you."
Perhaps it was dangerous to be his friend. Yet what had he done but give her the lightest and most harmless of kisses? The problem was not with him, but with her. She raised the fan and rested it against her right cheek in the gesture of assent. Yes, I will be your friend.
"Good." He nodded toward the ballroom, where there was a temporary lull in the music. "Are you prepared to dance again, this time in front of other people?"
As he spoke, the alarming current of attraction cut off as abruptly as a snuffed candle. For a moment Sara wondered if her wits had been wandering and only just returned. Once again the prince was just a man; admittedly a remarkably appealing one, but resistible. She sighed with relief. She had been suffering from no more than a few moments of moon madness, and now she was recovered. "I am game if you are, Your Highness."
He held the French door open for her and she went inside, blinking at the glittering light refracting through the prisms of the chandeliers. On the far side of the room she saw Charles, looking surprised and not pleased by the sight of her with Prince Peregrine. Then she dismissed the thought as the music struck up again, and the Kafir led her into another waltz.
This dance was as delightful as the previous one, and was unaccompanied by perilous longings. When the music stopped, Peregrine bowed to her, a picture of propriety. He, too, must have suffered from moon madness on the balcony, and was now recovered. "You must brace yourself, Lady Sara. Every man in the room will now wish to partner you."
Even as she laughed, Ross appeared by her side. "I've come to claim my cousin, Mikahl."
As the music struck up again, Ross swept her into another waltz. His voice full of teasing affection, he said, "Sara, you wretch, why would you dance for him and not for me?"
"He didn't allow me time to decline his invitation," she explained. "Then, once I started dancing, I realized that I didn't want to stop." As Ross deftly steered them away from imminent collision with another couple, she went on, "He has persuaded me to ride again as well."
Her cousin gave a soft whistle of astonishment. Better than anyone save Sara herself, he knew how much pain and fear lay behind her light words. "How did he do that?"
"I'm not quite sure," she admitted. "He just makes things seem..." she searched for a word, "possible."
His eyes intent, Ross said, "You like him?"
"Very much." Just how much, she would not admit. "As you said, Prince Peregrine is not like anyone else." Then Sara grinned, relaxed as she was only with Ross. "I think that's just as well. I don't think London could survive too many like him."
Besides being the handsomest man in the room, Ross was a superb dancer, and Sara felt as safe in his arms as she had in Peregrine's. Later, with other partners, she had a few minor problems, once stumbling with all the awkwardness she had feared, but she did not let the incident spoil her pleasure in her rediscovered ability.
She danced every dance for the rest of the evening, and by the time they left, she was in a state of happy exhaustion. As Charles took her home in his carriage, she rested her head against the soft leather upholstery, half asleep.
"You seemed to be enjoying yourself, my dear," Charles said as the vehicle began rumbling along the cobbled street. "I did not realize that your crippled leg would permit dancing."
Sara was too much in charity with the world to take offense at his tactlessness. Mildly she said, "Neither did I. It was Prince Peregrine who persuaded me to try."
"Ah, yes, the Kafir prince." A note of disapproval sounded in his voice. "I saw that you spent time alone with him on the balcony. I'm surprised at you, Sara."
"It was chance, not prearrangement, Charles." Fully awake, Sara raised her head from the seat back. "What do you suspect I was doing out there with him?" She was not used to having her actions questioned, and the lingering sense of guilt she felt at her shameless behavior was drowned by irritation at his tone.
"Of course I know that you would never behave improperly, my dear," he assured her, clearly surprised at how she had interpreted his remark. "But one must be wary of appearances. He is a foreigner, after all, and of dubious morals."
"You yourself suggested that I cultivate his acquaintance," she pointed out acerbically. "Have you changed your mind about wanting to do business with him?"
"Not at all. We had dinner last night, and he is most interested in a proposal I made. I have hopes that he will join me in a promising venture." After a pause, Charles continued, "But I have... heard things that suggest that he is not an appropriate companion for a female of refinement."