Page 34 of To Tempt a Troubled Earl
Kit’s lips found the narrow column of his nape as Lando drifted against the rise and fall of Kit’s solid chest, the cadence of his heartbeat, the shared warmth.
A minute passed, maybe longer, and then Lando turned elegantly as if already in tune with unheard music. He studied Kit’s arms, still embracing his waist, unspent tears still filling his eyes.
“At Rossingley, our winters also stretched. Neither Charles nor I played cards. Though we were well occupied.”
“I’m so, so sorry for your loss.” Kit placed a light kiss on Lando’s forehead, resting his mouth there. “I fear I possess two left feet, but may I offer myself as a poor substitute?” Stepping back, he smiled down at Lando before wiping at an escaping tear with the tip of his thumb. Such an intimate, tender gesture; no wonder another swiftly took its place.
Lightly, Lando brushed his hands along the length of Kit’s arms. “You are far from that, Kit. I…I admit I do not know what this is between us. I cannot explain it. But whatever it is, it calms my soul. You are…you are not Charles. You are…you. And you have made me feel more alive than I ever believed I would again. I am…grateful.”
He dipped his chin so Kit wouldn’t see the flush of colour painting his cheeks. “Forgive me. I’ve said too much. Men do not speak to other men in such a way.”
Kit barked a laugh. “They do not, I agree. But then you are not like any other man I have ever known.” He lifted Lando’s face up to his. “And I can’t explain it either. Nor can I keep away or stay cross with you any longer. Not even when my trust in you hangs by a thread. You…you scare me, Lando.” He shook his head, glancing up at the shadowy sky beyond the window. “And I would not admit to that were it not dawn at the end of a very long and trying evening. You have me at a weak moment.”
Lando’s watery gaze locked onto Kit’s. “Then we are both of us having weak moments. I would not shed tears or be so maudlin if I’d partaken of a hearty supper.”
“I have yet to see you eat more than a few morsels.”
“I…no.” Lando sighed. “It is a family affliction, I think. In unhappy times. I cannot explain it. My mother also suffered.”
Kit planted another kiss on his forehead and chuckled. “Then I shall endeavour to make you happy. And turn you into a plump cushion.”
Lando smiled. “And you believe your waltz will achieve that?”
“I very much doubt it. But shall we find out?”
Relinquishing Kit’s hold, Lando examined his dance partner’s posture with pursed lips. “I’m a little out of touch, but both of your arms around my waist isn’t the traditional stance. Theton’s decorum hasn’t slipped that much in my absence.”
“A great pity.”
Trying not to laugh, Lando raised Kit’s left arm, placing his own around Kit’s broad back. “This hand belongs here, resting on my upper arm, almost on my shoulder. And your right hand rests as so, clasped in my left.”
A puzzled frown pinched Kit’s brow as he examined the position of his left hand. “You’re leading.”
“Yes. I am.” Lando smiled again, an inviting, half-seductive and half-challenging sort of smile. “Although, when the mood takes me, I have been known to let other men take the lead,” he added in a silky tone as he guided Kit across the dance floor.
“If not for the hard soles of our boots ringing out, I would hardly notice we’re dancing,” Kit murmured. “Charles was right. You are grace in physical form.”
“And your feet are far nimbler than you led me to believe.”
“If they are, then it is because you make them so.”
When they reached a wall, Lando swept Kit in a turn, smoothly carrying the bigger man along. Kit had been correct about one thing, Lando mused. Music would have been superfluous as the fast beat of his own heart provided a rare old tune.
“You say you let other men take the lead,” Kit began, his sinful gaze latched onto Lando’s.
“Not all men,” Lando corrected, then hesitated. “But I would allow you.”
“You are both flower and gardener,” Kit blurted, cheeks suffused with colour. And he promptly tripped over nothing.
“Nicely put.” Lando laughed. “I am indeed. But your left foot should be mirroring my right. When mine moves forward a pace, yours steps back.”
Staggering to straighten himself, Kit cursed. “I was right not to trust you. You lied! Your waltz is so much more than adequate.”
With a brief pause before setting off again, Lando arranged him back in his hold. “Modesty becomes me. Now, pull your shoulders up and your chest out and stop looking down at those disobedient feet. Make them dance to your tune, not the other way around.”
Kit found a rhythm and soon enough, they were tripping around the ballroom as if lighter than air. His confidence grew with it, enough to add light kisses on Lando’s cheeks whenever they slowed for a turn. Then he abandoned the traditional hold altogether to shamelessly grasp Lando once more around his middle.
“I am picturing an imaginary audience of horrified snooty mamas,” Lando said, amused. “This scandalous embrace would be the talk of theton.”
