Captain Amberton's Inherited Bride

‘Dance?’ She looked as if he’d just suggested something indecent. ‘Oh, no, I couldn’t.’

‘Why not?’ He made a pretence of looking around. ‘This is a ball, if I’m not mistaken.’

‘I’m just not very good. That is, I’ve had lessons, but only with women and never in public. I really don’t think that I could.’

‘You mean you’ve never danced with a man before?’

‘No. My father says—’

‘But this is perfect! You have to start some time.’

He grabbed hold of her hand impetuously, ignoring her father’s furious glare as he pulled her on to the floor. The idea of being her first anything was strangely appealing, even if it was only a dance, and there was no harm in getting to know his potential sister-in-law. It wasn’t as if he was flirting with her, no more than came naturally anyway, and it wasn’t like Arthur would care—or even notice. Judging by the heated discussion taking place on the edge of the dance floor, his brother had chosen the most public of venues to finally make a stand. It didn’t look as if that was going to end any time soon. In which case, the longer he distracted the subject of that discussion, the better. It was almost selfless of him really...

‘No!’ She dug her heels in and tore her hand away abruptly.

‘Miss Harper?’

He swung round in surprise. She looked defiant all of a sudden, like a cat arching her back, flashing her eyes and hissing at him. The effect was as impressive as it was disarming, and he felt a dawning sense of respect. Apparently she wasn’t as obedient as he’d assumed, wouldn’t be charmed or cajoled or bullied on to the dance floor. There were claws behind that small, soft-looking facade. Damned if that didn’t make her even more attractive!

‘I apologise for my forthrightness, Miss Harper.’ He bowed in an attempt to look suitably chastised. ‘I can only blame overenthusiasm.’

‘I told you, I’m not good enough to dance.’

‘But I am, though I say so myself. I haven’t dropped anyone for a good half hour.’ He moved back towards her, putting a hand over his heart with mock solemnity. ‘But I promise I won’t let you fall. If you’ll do me the honour of accepting this dance, that is?’

Her eyes widened slightly, as if she wasn’t sure how to react, and he found himself willing her to say yes. Out of the corner of his eye he could see her father bearing down on them, coming to drag her away most likely, and by the slight tilt of her head he had the distinct impression she’d just noticed him, too. To Lance’s surprise, the sight seemed to decide her. After a moment’s hesitation, she took his arm, following him out into the middle of the dance floor.

The orchestra struck up a tune and he smiled with satisfaction. It was a polka, a livelier dance than the waltz, but still one that allowed him to face her, to place one hand on her shoulder blade while he clasped her gloved fingers in the other.

‘My father told me not to dance with anyone except your brother.’ She tensed as his hand skimmed across the small of her back.

‘Then you’re more rebellious than I thought, Miss Harper.’

‘I’m not rebellious at all.’ Her expression shifted subtly. ‘Though sometimes I think I’d like to be.’

‘Indeed? Then you’ve come to the right man. I’d be more than happy to help.’

‘Oh.’ Her brow furrowed with a look of confusion. ‘Thank you.’

He bit back a laugh, flirting by habit, though in truth, he was surprised by the variety of ideas that sprang to mind, none of which were remotely suitable in relation to his brother’s future wife. Over the top of her head he could see Cordelia Braithwaite pouting at him, though the sight left him cold. For some inexplicable reason, he preferred the unworldly, unusual Miss Harper.

‘The music’s very fast.’ She sounded nervous.

‘Just follow my lead.’

He squeezed her fingers reassuringly as he led them off, sweeping her in a series of increasingly wide circles around the dance floor. She stumbled slightly at first, but quickly caught up with the rhythm, gradually relaxing in his arms as she adapted to the lively pace of the music. Contrary to what he’d expected, it was surprisingly easy to dance with her. He didn’t have any backache at all. She was so light that he found himself actually lifting her off her feet with every hop, her natural poise making her float like a feather in his arms.

‘I didn’t peg you for a liar, Miss Harper.’ He arched an eyebrow accusingly.

‘What do you mean?’ She looked startled again.

‘You said you weren’t a good dancer. You’re a natural.’

Her whole face seemed to light up as she smiled. ‘I do enjoy it. We have a ballroom at home, though we’ve never had a ball.’

‘What a waste.’

‘Sometimes I dance there by myself.’

‘Without music?’

‘I sing.’ She bit her lip suddenly as if regretting the admission. ‘I suppose that sounds ridiculous.’

‘On the contrary, I’m sure you make quite a charming picture. I’d like to see and hear it.’

She smiled again and he tightened his grip on her shoulder, amused and intrigued in equal measure. He’d never visited the Harpers’ mansion in Whitby, though it was rumoured to be immense and as chilling in appearance as its owner was in reality. The daughter really was straight out of a fairy tale. At this point he wouldn’t have been surprised to learn that she’d grown up in an ivory tower.

‘This is your first ball, I understand?’

She nodded enthusiastically. ‘It’s my first anything. I’ve never seen so many people in one place. The ladies all look so beautiful.’

‘I suppose so.’ He glanced around, though the rest of the room seemed to have lost some of its lustre. All the other women looked drab by comparison.

‘Would you introduce me to some of them?’

‘The ladies?’ He raised both eyebrows this time. ‘Don’t you know anyone?’

‘The only people I know here are my father and yours, and now you. I don’t have many acquaintances.’

‘Not even in Whitby?’

‘No.’ She looked vaguely apologetic. ‘My father doesn’t like to make calls and he doesn’t approve of me going out on my own.’

‘Indeed?’ He felt a flicker of anger towards her father. Had she really been a prisoner, then? And yet she spoke matter-of-factly, as if she didn’t expect anything else. ‘In that case I’d be glad to make some introductions. Then perhaps you could encourage your father to throw his own ball? So that you can dance in your own house, I mean.’

‘Father?’ Her laugh sounded like a bell tinkling. ‘I can’t imagine that ever happening.’

‘Not even for your coming out?’ He felt a sudden impulse to test her, to see if she suspected anything of their fathers’ scheming. ‘I’m sure you’d find plenty of suitors.’

The silvery glow that had seemed to envelop her faded, as if a shadow had just fallen over her face. ‘My father doesn’t approve of suitors.’

‘Maybe not, but after tonight I’m sure there’ll be plenty of young men eager to renew your acquaintance.’

‘Eager for my father’s money, you mean?’

He almost tripped over his feet, taken aback by her bluntness. It was an unfortunate truth that in the eyes of the world her fortune would constitute her most attractive feature. She was too unusual looking to be called beautiful—he wouldn’t be surprised if his father actually saw coins when he looked at her—but such things weren’t usually spoken about out loud.

‘I see.’ Something of his thoughts must have shown on his face because an expression of hurt swept over hers. ‘I think I’d like to stop dancing now.’