Free Shall We Dance? by Kasey Michaels

seen each other in years.”
    Nate tipped his head and looked at her with blatantly teasing scrutiny. “Anything else, Georgie?”
    â€œYes. Don’t call me Georgie. I hate it.”
    â€œWell, that puts me in my place. So sorry, Georgiana.”
    â€œThat’s much better, thank you.” Georgiana struggled for something else to say, wondering what was keepingAmelia. They’d been waiting a good quarter hour now, and no one had so much as brought in a tea tray.
    â€œAnd you’ll allow me to send your carriage home while you accompany me to meet my aunt Rowena?”
    â€œI said I would, didn’t I?” Georgiana snapped, then immediately apologized. “I’m…I’m not very good at all of this, you know. They only just opened my cage and set me free from the country a month ago.”
    â€œKeep you locked up, do they? Somehow that doesn’t boggle my mind as much as it probably ought.”
    â€œOh, shut up,” Georgiana said, very much at home with this strange man, which probably only proved that she was not fit for Polite Society. The man had a title, for goodness sake! “No, don’t do that. Tell me again how very respected your family is, and how my stepfather will be throwing himself at your shoetops in gratitude that you’ve deigned to look my way.”
    â€œPleases you, that part, doesn’t it? I’d noticed that. In fact, if it weren’t for knowing that this whole sham was my idea, I’d think it was yours.”
    Georgiana smiled. “Could we just call it serendipity?”
    â€œAmong other things, yes,” Nate said, abandoning his position at the fireplace, to sit beside her on the couch. “Georgie—Georgiana,” he said, taking her hand in both of his, “I think we’re going to be very good friends.”
    Georgiana pulled her hand free, and sniffed at him—yes, sniffed—for she was above all things a practical young woman. “Careful, Nate, or else Mr. Bateman will be posting the banns. You have a mission, remember? To save the queen?”
    â€œWrong. To save my own skin. The queen’s in no real danger. Even our king isn’t that harebrained. You’ll understand more when we leave here and travel to my family home.”
    â€œI thought you said we were going to visit your aunt Rowena.”
    â€œYes, I did. She lives with her sister—my mother—and my poor, beleaguered father. He’s the one who is going to be kissing your shoetops when he learns that you are to be my entry to this establishment. Anything to placate my aunt and, most important, silence her.”
    â€œThen we’ll return to Mr. Bateman’s house, and you’ll meet my mother and Mr. Bateman? You did promise, remember?”
    â€œLies upon lies. I remember. I’m not precisely sure why I’m feeling so jolly about all these lies, but I am. Do you need those spectacles, Georgiana?”
    The question surprised her. “No, of course not. I only wear them when I want to look bookish, and a horrid bluestocking into the bargain. And when I want to see what I’m looking at,” she told him, leaning back slightly against the cushions on the suddenly small sofa. “Why? Mama says I’m lucky to get a third or fourth son, because of the spectacles. And the very slight dowry my late father arranged for me. Are they that awful?”
    â€œNot as terrible as leaving them on your dressing table for vanity’s sake, then finding yourself talking up a potted palm at some party, no,” Nate said. “But I do believe we could seek out something not half so horrible. That is, more becoming to your face. Spectacles that at least fit.”
    â€œThey’re just heavy.” Georgiana slammed the offending spectacles back up on her nose. “Don’t all spectacles slip like this?”
    â€œNo. They don’t. I’m surprised you don’t knock yourself