Page 24 of The Earl's Disguised Governess
“I am her cousin,” he answered. “It would be improper.”
“It is merely a dance lesson,” Mademoiselle Trevoux countered. “And you shall be helping her prospects for marriage.” The woman, whose ringleted hair was done up in a beautiful fashion to expose her long, elegant neck, looked at him with such hope.
His eyes flicked to Miss Gundry, who bit her lip against a smile. Her hair was loosened today, curling down her back in those waves that she often had to keep pinned back for her work. The tendrils were tied up with a bow, pulling parts of her hairback from her face. As always, a few strands framed her features. The errant locks caused her eyes to twinkle a bit further.
He gave her a smile, hoping it was convincing and did not speak of his guilt at putting his friend off visiting.
Miss Gundry approached him. “Come and join us, Lord Bannerdown.” Her eyes lit up in mischief. “It shall be my repayment for attending the play with you, and I am sure Lady Florence will be ever so grateful to see the waltz performed as intended.”
She glanced back at his cousin, who nodded. “Ever so grateful, Cousin.”
Ernest did not know a lot about women, but he knew when they were outnumbering him. The three of them all looked at him expectantly. He glanced both left and right down the hallway to check that his mother’s voice was nowhere near the room before nodding.
“If you all insist, then I shall be of service,” he said, laughing nervously as he strode into the room. “But I will warn you all that I am a terrible dancer.”
“I am sure you are not,” Miss Gundry teased.
Oh, you will find out soon enough, Miss Gundry, he thought as Mademoiselle Trevoux gestured for them tocome together with a wave of her hands. Awkwardly, Ernest approached his cousin’s governess.
“You shall show Lady Florence how the waltz is performed,” she instructed. “Come now. You both know the steps, yes?”
Ernest nodded despite not being a good dancer. His mother had taught him a great deal as a boy allowed to languish away from the societal propriety of noblemen. She taught him in the garden of their home in London while his father was at work, and her smiles had been content and wide, and Ernest longed for those days.
He was snapped back to the present when Miss Gundry’s hand sought his, and her other one rested on his shoulder.
“Lord Bannerdown, your hand should seek Miss Gundry’s waist,” Mademoiselle Trevoux hinted, her eyebrows lifting. She looked excited to pair them together. Even Lady Florence, who stood near the pianoforte, watched in excitement.
“Of course,” he said. “I apologize, Miss Gundry, for I am a most clumsy dancer.”
She merely waved him off. Mademoiselle Trevoux strolled towards the pianoforte, sat down, and began to play. Ernest dipped Miss Gundry into the start of the waltz and tried to lead despite his own nervousness.
“You have not danced with a lady before?” the governess asked, arching a brow at him in question as they crossed the length of the room.
“Not a lot,” he admitted. “My mother, mostly. She is the one who taught me these dances. I have not had the chance to embarrass myself formally in public yet.”
Miss Gundry laughed. She twirled as he guided her, and just his hand on her waist made Ernest feel as though he was doing something wrong, even as he convinced himself that this was what the dance demanded.
Her hand on his shoulder burned an imprint that he swore he would still feel later.
“Where did you learn such dances?” he couldn’t help asking her. She was a beautiful dancer, elegant and graceful, her limbs extending perfectly every time he spun her out and away from him, only to spin deftly right back into his side.
Her face was blank for a moment, confusing him, but she quickly answered, “I taught myself.” Did he fabricate a tremble in her voice? “I knew that if I were to be a governess, then I might need to tutor any ward. And see, that time has come.”
She laughed, and the sound was shaky as she struggled to meet his gaze. Still, they danced and danced, and Ernest slowlyfelt himself melting into the steps. The eyes of Mademoiselle Trevoux and his cousin faded away, and he became quite unaware of anything but Miss Gundry as they spun around the room.
Her gaze did not break from his.
“You are very adept,” he murmured. She blushed, and he found that he wished to thumb over the spread of pink on her cheeks. He tightened his hold on her waist and her other hand.
“What is the meaning of this?”
His mother’s shrilly voice had Ernest startling, breaking away from Miss Gundry with a sense of urgency. His panicked gaze sought out his mother, who stood in the doorway to the music room, her face twisted in disgust at him and the governess.
“You are dancing with—with a commoner?” Her screech made him wince. Mademoiselle Trevoux rushed to her feet.
“Lady Bannerdown, please forgive me, for it is my fault. I encouraged his lordship to dance with Miss Gundry to better show Lady Florence how the waltz is conducted. It is entirely my responsibility.”
“I hired you to teach my niece how to dance so she may have a better chance at finding a suitor.” Lady Katherine’s voicewas sharp and venomous. “Not to enable my son to dance with Lady Florence’s governess!”
