Strictly Taboo(102)

Grace nodded.

“I'll be just fine here alone.” Grace said out loud. “I'm sure that Art here, wouldn't mind walking me home after the dance?” She looked at Art who snapped to attention as soon as he heard his name.

“What's that? Oh, no ma’am, I wouldn't mind at all, in fact, it'd be my pleasure.” He drawled. Winnie nodded at him quickly, too preoccupied with her drunk husband’s presence to give much thought to the fact that neither she, nor Grace, knew Art at all.

“Goodnight, then!” Winnie said quickly before making a beeline for Tom who was already getting a little too familiar with the young girl selling raffle tickets.



“Your sister sure does care for you.” Art said, giving Grace a friendly smile.

“Yes, she does. I am very lucky to have Winnie.” Grace returned the smile.

“I'd offer you some more punch, but I'm afraid you might just float away if I did that.” Art said with a chuckle. Grace looked down at her glass.

“I have had quite a bit already, haven't I? Lucky for me it's just fruit in there!” She said, setting her glass down on the table. As she set her glass down, the small band on the stage at the far end of the barn, began to play. Grace looked at them and then back to Art. “Art? Would you care to dance?” She asked. She wasn't usually such a straight forward person, but Winnie’s exchange with Everett had bolstered her.

“Ain't it supposed to be the gentleman that asks the lady to dance?” Art said, one eyebrow raised.

“Well, if I see a gentleman in here, I'll remind him of that!” Grace gave him a mischievous grin and he shook his head.

“You sure are somethin’, Miss. Grace!” Art held out his hand for Grace’s and led her to the dance floor.

Art certainly wasn't any Everett D. Rockefeller, but he knew how to dance. By midway through the second song, Grace was smiling and laughing so much that she barely noticed Everett glaring at her and Art from the side of the room. When she did catch a glance of him staring at them, Grace was far too busy enjoying Art’s company to care.

By the end of the third song, Grace was breathing heavily. She found it quite difficult to remain ladylike while still trying to catch her breath.

“I think…” She panted, “I should take a moment, if you don't mind.” Just as Art was leading her from the dance floor, Everett appeared in their path. Grace wasn't sure how he kept popping up out of nowhere, but she didn't much care for it.

“Might I have the next dance?” Everett held out his hand to Grace.

“We were just about to take a short break from dancin’” Art said politely. “Perhaps once Miss Grace here has caught her breath she would consider givin’ you the next dance.” Everett glared at Art and then returned his focus to Grace.

“Is that so, Grace?” He asked, speaking as though he dared Grace to deny him.

“Well, I am quite tired and I would certainly appreciate a moment to catch my breath.” She said hesitantly. She hated how Everett made her feel so powerless.

“That's the second refusal of the night, I'm beginning to think that you don't much care for my company…” Everett said. Grace wished that Winnie were there, she would have told him that that was exactly the reason why she was ducking him.

“Regardless of what you might think, friend, the lady has said no. Now, if you will excuse us.” Art pulled Grace gently from the edge of the dance floor and led her back towards the drinks table. Everett remained in place, his face reddening with a mix of embarrassment and fury. “Let me get you a fresh drink, why don't you take a seat?” Art nodded to a couple of wooden chairs in the corner.

“Thank you.” She said quietly. She wasn't sure if she was thanking him for the drink, the offer to sit down, the interference with Everett or everything at once. Walking to the corner, Grace took a seat. She was grateful to get off her feet. She brushed her palms across the front of her dress, flattening out a few unsightly wrinkles. As she focused on one crease in particular, she didn't notice the shadow of a figure appear beside her.

“Seems to me you ought to be grateful when a man in my position offers to dance with you.” Without looking up Grace knew Everett’s voice. She glanced quickly at the drinks table where Art was still filling their cups. She lifted her head to look at Everett.

“While I certainly appreciate your affections, Mr. Roosevelt, I am quite tired.” She said politely. Everett sneered.

“Tired from dancin’ with that farmhand?” He asked. Grace nodded.

“I don't see what his position as a farmhand has to do with anything, Mr. Roosevelt.” Grace pushed herself to be blunt. She was going to have to be more forceful if she wanted him to listen because being polite was obviously having no effect.