Page 76 of Some Like It Scot
This opportunity would prove a test.
And that was all.
My attention traveled back to Katie, who stood beside me as my dance partner, since Mark the Eejit had rewounded his ankle by trying to slide down the stair railing.
He injured more than his leg. Men weren’t meant to straddle railings and slide down them.
However, it assured me of my solid building skills, because the new railing didn’t so much as shake.
Would Katie’s eyes hold the same fascination at watching me create the sculptures as they had when she viewed the completed projects in my cottage? Holding her in my arms again was no hardship. This time we danced a quadrille, which I’d only seen on YouTube last night after some subtle questions to Lennox about the dances for today. The waltz, I knew. Greer had taught me.
Which made the idea of dancing it a little sweeter.
And she’d have gotten a laugh at the idea of me, dressed as an Edwardian butler, dancing it with an accident-prone American. Actually, I could almost hear her laughing as Lennox droned on about the history of the dances.
Greer would have found the language of fans class humorous as well. The only two moves I cared to remember were the ones that communicated “kiss me” and “I fancy you.” At one point, Katie’s eyes met mine as I waited by the door at my butler station and her fan flashed wide. She began raising it to her lips in the signal for “kiss me,” when Miss Dupont slapped Mark the Eejit because evidently he’d given off some rather unflattering message.
But had she fancied a kiss? Because the more I spent time with her—and with each dance—the kissing idea had grown into a full-on need.
So as the next dancing lesson began, Miss Dupont was paired with Logan, and if my fan-reading skills proved acute (a thought I actually hated to have floating around in my mind), she kept repeating the phrase “I fancy you.” Either that or she had an itch on her cheek.
Logan appeared either unfazed or unaware of her message, but the too-serious man acted like he was long overdue for a date. Miss Dupont might not prove to be the right choice, but someone needed to help the poor lad.
“For this dancing lesson, we will be learning the quadrille and the waltz.” Mrs. Lennox scanned the room, as proud as the peacockwho gave up his feathers for her hat. “I see you’ve already found your partners.”
Katie raised a brow as if in challenge, so I sent the same look back to her, bringing on her smile. And fool that I was, I wanted to keep seeing it again and again. The fact that I brought it out of her only made it better.
“Face your partners, everyone.” Lennox went around placing people in position. “Yes. That’s right. Now gentlemen bow and ladies curtsy.”
I folded my arm across my waist and offered an exaggerated bow, while Katie dipped into a slight curtsy, her smile quivering as if she wanted to laugh. “What a heroic bow, Mr. MacKerrow!”
“Only the best for my dance partner, Miss Campbell.”
Wake grinned at the other corner of the little box we’d made with the two couples. Maybe he saw something betwixt me and Katie. Maybe not. At the moment, I didn’t care.
“Now, bow or curtsy to the person at your other corner,” Lennox continued. “No, Miss Dupont, not Lady Lennox. You will bow to Lord Wake. Yes.”
And that was only the beginning of our muddled attempt at the quadrille.
We began with a few moments of stumbling since the partners crossed other partners over and over again. At one point, Logan tripped over Wake’s shoe, hitting Miss Dupont and sending her off-balance. Katie lurched forward to grab the smaller woman to keep her from crashing to the floor, which sent them both teetering. I was able to rescue them from actually hitting the floor, but I heard someone’s clothing rip. I couldn’t figure out where, and I really didn’t want to know, but Katie’s wide-eyed gaze shot to mine. She’d heard it too.
And I almost laughed. This entire production needed a solid laugh. Lennox took it much too seriously for anyone with half a brain. We were a mess.
As if for proof—and never one to allow the ridiculousness to pass her by—Ana “tripped” over the air and landed quite decorously in Wake’s arms, adding a hand to her forehead in a swoon. Wake looked at Lennox for help.
The woman quickly clapped her hands together. “I believe we shall move on to the waltz, everyone. Perhaps it will prove less... injurious.”
Now this one I’d been hoping for because, unlike the quadrille, where Katie left my arms in the dance, the waltz was meant for two. The same two. In fairly close proximity.
“I havenae danced the waltz in a long time, so I’m giving you fair warning.” My palm slid to the waist of her yellow gown well before Lennox encouraged pairs to take their positions.
The slightest hitch in her breath at my touch sent a little uptick to my heartbeat. This woman was driving me mad, and I was willingly along for the ride.
She kept her eyes on mine as she slid her palm over my shoulder, causing my own breath to falter. There was no denying the draw between us. It glared as brightly as Ana Lennox’s pink dress.
With a raised brow, Katie leaned close, filling my lungs with honeysuckle and sea. “It’s a good thing I’ve danced the waltz regularly for the past few years then.”
Ah, a bit of competition? She wanted to play this game, did she?
