kneeled and removed her dancing slippers. “What are you doing?” she hissed.
“ Taking off your slippers. What did you think I was doing?” He had noted earlier that she was not wearing her usual boots which were attached to her leg braces. These braces attached at the ankle and they looked rather uncomfortable.
“ I do not know. I can feel nothing in my feet.”
“ Nothing?”
“ Absolutely nothing. You could chop them off and I would not wince.”
“ Oh I see.” He stood. “Hold onto my neck and when I help you down, your feet will be on my shoes.”
He placed his hand under her pert bottom and drew her off the balustrade. When he knew her feet were nearly at the ground, he moved his own feet until he felt the warmth of her soles touch his own stockings.
“This is ridiculous, Nathaniel,” she breathed. Devil take it, she was so close.
“ Most likely, but you wanted to dance.” He grabbed her skirts, assuring his fingers had caught her leg brace, moving one leg so her foot sat more securely on his, and then he did the same with the other leg. He placed one hand at the small of her back and caught up her hand in his. Instinctively she grasped hold of his shoulder. “Next time it shall be easier.”
“ Next time?”
He ignored her question because he had no idea if he could even do this. He had memories of his uncle doing this with his cousin, dancing her around a village assembly when no one else was looking. But an eight-year-old child was very different to a pretty, breast-heaving woman with a broken back. And those breast s were heaving against his chest and doing things to his body that were just not proper.
“ Think in triple beats. One two three, one two three, one two three,” he intoned as he moved them away from the balustrade. He quickly adjusted his grip on her spine and she steadied. He missed his step and had to catch the rhythm of the music again, but the glint of her teeth in the moonlight showed she was smiling.
“ I am dancing,” she whispered, her voice full of awe and wonder. They danced a few more bars before he lost the tempo again. He was a good dancer but this was a test, even of his skill.
He began to settle into the music , and they twirled slowly around their own little part of the balcony. He knew it was not the most graceful dance but her glinting eyes told him she was happy to be dancing.
He did not know who was more disappointed, Sarah or himself when he stumbled and had to catch them both against the stone balustrade with his forearm. He groaned. It hurt like the very devil. Sarah squeaked and clung to him, trusting him implicitly. He righted them both and smiled ruefully.
“I believe we shall have to practice before we make our dancing debut on the social scene, my love.” He quickly lifted her back onto the balustrade and retrieved her slippers, placing them on her feet, marvelling at the complete lack of movement when he did so. No wriggling of toes or coquettish giggles caused by ticklishness.
“ Is your arm hurt?” she asked as he straightened.
“ No. It is fine,” he lied. It was going to be badly bruised, but he did not want her to feel responsible. Not for the bruise at least. That said, had she not sent her father to dupe some unsuspecting peer to offer for her, he’d be sitting in White’s getting resoundingly foxed.
“ We should go back into the ball or everyone will think you have ravished me,” she said simply.
He pressed his lips to hers, short and very sweet, but enough to show her that he wanted more—much more. He hoped she understood how much he truly wanted her. He could learn to forgive the treacherous beginnings of their courtship but could not go through a marriage where she believed he bedded her out of duty. A perfunctory sex life was no sex life at all.
He must be able to fulfil her sexual needs properly. Surely it was just a case of finding the right angles, the right erogenous zones.
He had no wish to be an unfaithful
“ Taking off your slippers. What did you think I was doing?” He had noted earlier that she was not wearing her usual boots which were attached to her leg braces. These braces attached at the ankle and they looked rather uncomfortable.
“ I do not know. I can feel nothing in my feet.”
“ Nothing?”
“ Absolutely nothing. You could chop them off and I would not wince.”
“ Oh I see.” He stood. “Hold onto my neck and when I help you down, your feet will be on my shoes.”
He placed his hand under her pert bottom and drew her off the balustrade. When he knew her feet were nearly at the ground, he moved his own feet until he felt the warmth of her soles touch his own stockings.
“This is ridiculous, Nathaniel,” she breathed. Devil take it, she was so close.
“ Most likely, but you wanted to dance.” He grabbed her skirts, assuring his fingers had caught her leg brace, moving one leg so her foot sat more securely on his, and then he did the same with the other leg. He placed one hand at the small of her back and caught up her hand in his. Instinctively she grasped hold of his shoulder. “Next time it shall be easier.”
“ Next time?”
He ignored her question because he had no idea if he could even do this. He had memories of his uncle doing this with his cousin, dancing her around a village assembly when no one else was looking. But an eight-year-old child was very different to a pretty, breast-heaving woman with a broken back. And those breast s were heaving against his chest and doing things to his body that were just not proper.
“ Think in triple beats. One two three, one two three, one two three,” he intoned as he moved them away from the balustrade. He quickly adjusted his grip on her spine and she steadied. He missed his step and had to catch the rhythm of the music again, but the glint of her teeth in the moonlight showed she was smiling.
“ I am dancing,” she whispered, her voice full of awe and wonder. They danced a few more bars before he lost the tempo again. He was a good dancer but this was a test, even of his skill.
He began to settle into the music , and they twirled slowly around their own little part of the balcony. He knew it was not the most graceful dance but her glinting eyes told him she was happy to be dancing.
He did not know who was more disappointed, Sarah or himself when he stumbled and had to catch them both against the stone balustrade with his forearm. He groaned. It hurt like the very devil. Sarah squeaked and clung to him, trusting him implicitly. He righted them both and smiled ruefully.
“I believe we shall have to practice before we make our dancing debut on the social scene, my love.” He quickly lifted her back onto the balustrade and retrieved her slippers, placing them on her feet, marvelling at the complete lack of movement when he did so. No wriggling of toes or coquettish giggles caused by ticklishness.
“ Is your arm hurt?” she asked as he straightened.
“ No. It is fine,” he lied. It was going to be badly bruised, but he did not want her to feel responsible. Not for the bruise at least. That said, had she not sent her father to dupe some unsuspecting peer to offer for her, he’d be sitting in White’s getting resoundingly foxed.
“ We should go back into the ball or everyone will think you have ravished me,” she said simply.
He pressed his lips to hers, short and very sweet, but enough to show her that he wanted more—much more. He hoped she understood how much he truly wanted her. He could learn to forgive the treacherous beginnings of their courtship but could not go through a marriage where she believed he bedded her out of duty. A perfunctory sex life was no sex life at all.
He must be able to fulfil her sexual needs properly. Surely it was just a case of finding the right angles, the right erogenous zones.
He had no wish to be an unfaithful
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