Free A Lady of Esteem by Kristi Ann Hunter

where his old life had flourished, and he looked forward to finding a wife and retreating back to the country where things were simpler. If loaning a book brought him a little closer to that goal, then he’d willingly pack up the whole library.

    Amelia and Miss Ryan tripped over their feet. Again. Amelia stifled a giggle as Miss Ryan frowned. They’d cleared the drawing room of most of the furniture and were attempting to dance. Miss Ryan’s efforts to remember the dance steps her friend had taught her were admirable, but Amelia knew she would never feel confident enough to step onto the floor of a London ballroom.
    Still, she loved Miss Ryan for trying.
    “Now I believe that you and the gentleman place your hands on each other’s shoulders.” Amelia and Miss Ryan awkwardly tried to hold each other’s shoulder with a low degree of success.
    “This cannot be right,” Miss Ryan muttered.
    Amelia laughed. “I don’t think it will matter if I know how to waltz or not. I doubt I’ll even dance. The experience of a London ball will be enough.”
    “Pish posh!” cried Miss Ryan. “You listen to me, young lady. I’ve seen you in that new gown, and I know that some young buck is going to ask you to dance. Why, those two young lords who have been escorting you around town will ask for certain. Let’s try again.”
    Since it made Miss Ryan happy, Amelia returned to the middle of the floor.
    “May I be of assistance?” a deep male voice inquired from the doorway.
    Amelia whirled to find Anthony handing over his hat to a grinning Fenton, a book tucked under his arm. Her neck began to flush, and she prayed that it would not spread over her cheeks. She forever found herself blushing in front of this man.
    “We are learning to waltz.” Amelia’s voice was so soft she wasn’t sure he heard her.
    “It is quite difficult when neither of us is aware of the proper forms.” Miss Ryan relinquished her spot on the impromptu dance floor.
    “How fortunate that I came along, then.” Anthony’s eyes never left Amelia’s. The anticipation of being held in his arms made her skin prickle. Even when she dared to dream that he’d ask her to dance, it hadn’t been for a waltz.
    He held the book out. “Have you read Gulliver ’s Travels ?”
    She shook her head and reached out a hand to accept the volume. “I’m sure it will be delightful.”
    Miss Ryan swept by, snatching the book as she crossed to the settee by the fireplace. Fenton stood in the doorway with a twinkle in his eye.
    Anthony took Amelia’s hands in his own. “Your hand does go on my shoulder.” His voice was low, causing Amelia to lean in to hear him. “Mine rests at your back. I hold your right hand in mine.”
    Amelia stared at their joined hands. How long since she’d been in the arms of a male? Fenton had never been much for hugging, but he had stopped entirely when she turned fifteen. She had forgotten the sensation of being protected and cared for that a man’s arms could project.
    “Now we twirl about the room.” Anthony began to hum a tune.
    He guided Amelia in the steps of the waltz, occasionally correcting the placement of her feet. “No, when I step in this direction, you will step to the other side and our arms will meet here, above our heads.”
    Amelia tried to follow and ended up stepping on her own foot. As she strove to catch herself, her toe caught and shifted her slipper off of her heel. The following step sent the slipper skittering across the floor to bump against the wall.
    She froze, staring at the offending shoe, unsure what the correct etiquette was for returning a slipper to one’s foot when in the presence of a man. “I believe, my lord, that I am destined to embarrass myself at every one of our meetings.”
    Sighing, she maneuvered herself into the corner of the wall, holding her skirts to retain her modesty while she wiggled her foot back into her slipper. When she turned to face him, Anthony was grinning.
    And alone.