The Scandalous Lady Sandford (Lost Ladies of London 3)

“He has plenty more tricks up his sleeve if you pardon the pun.”

The festivities continued. Isaac juggled apples, much to Mrs Bell’s annoyance. The women came together and sang an old country tune: a heartrending tale of a sailor separated from his one true love.

Lillian sniffed numerous times, dabbed her eyes and sipped her wine. When the song came to an end, she breathed a sigh of relief, and he couldn’t help but feel she had a lost love somewhere.

His gaze drifted to the locket at her throat, and he fought the urge to ask to see the portrait of the gentleman inside.

After listening to a tune played on glass bottles, Fabian glanced at Mackenzie. “And what have you next, an imp who can raise snakes from a basket?”

Mackenzie chuckled. “From the breadth of your chest, I’d say you’re no imp, my lord, and some might say you make a noise loud enough to send the snakes slithering.” Mackenzie reached under the table and produced a fiddle.

Lord, no! “Surely you don’t expect me to play on my wedding day?”

“Aye, I imagine your bride would like to witness your skill with a bow.”

Lillian touched his arm again. “Please play for me, Fabian.”

He met her gaze. What was it about those enchanting hazel eyes that made a man eager to do her bidding? How the hell could he refuse?

Fabian pushed out of his throne chair. “Very well. But if I’m to play, then you will all dance.” He held out his hand to Lillian. “Come. Mackenzie will partner you, though you must follow his lead. I’ve tried to teach them various dances over the years, but the men have trouble following routine steps. Indeed, I doubt their movements will resemble any dances you know.”

Her eyes brightened as she placed her hand in his. “You mean there’s no one here to berate me for a misstep?”

“I told you, no one here will judge you.” For some unknown reason, he bent his head and brushed his lips over her knuckles. “You’re free to do whatever you please.”

“Then lead the way, my lord.”

While the men set about finding a woman to partner, Fabian left Lillian in Mackenzie’s capable hands. Mackenzie tapped a tune with his foot and twirled Lillian around as he tried to explain the basic moves of the dance. Fabian warmed up his fiddle by performing a series of short bows on each string, though the task proved difficult when his wife’s chuckles drew his attention.

The sound of the first few chords forced the crowd to stop their antics and fix their gazes on him. Fabian’s heart pounded in his throat. Not because he doubted his skill for playing and entertaining, but when Lillian stared at him, he glimpsed a look of wonder and admiration flashing in her eyes.

Mackenzie bowed to Lillian, took her hand and then the ten or so couples took to moving in time to the music. The steps were more akin to excited leaps and skips than any set pattern. They linked arms, swung each other around until dizzy. Their breathless chuckles were the perfect accompaniment to his tune.

“Make a circle,” Mackenzie shouted, and everyone rushed to find their place and grab their neighbour’s shoulder.

The faster Fabian played, the quicker their feet shuffled around and around the flagstone floor. Fabian watched Lillian. His wife laughed until she couldn’t catch her breath. A few locks of ebony hair came loose from her coiffure to bounce at her flushed cheeks. The muscles in his abdomen tightened, unfulfilled lust leaving a heavy ache in his groin.

Lord, had he expected to marry her and feel nothing?

Eyes wide with exhilaration, her gaze met his. Like a bolt from the heavens, the power of it made him play the wrong note. In the midst of their merriment, no one noticed. Still, in his eagerness to gain his wife’s attention, he skipped to the end and stroked his last note.

Everyone clapped and cheered, oblivious to his selfish act.

Lillian touched Mackenzie on the upper arm in a gesture of appreciation. Fabian strode over to them, weaving through the crowd who rewarded his efforts with a cheer or a curtsy.

“You were remarkable.” Lillian’s vibrant eyes settled on him. Only moments earlier he’d wished he was worthy of her esteem. And yet her praise wasn’t enough to satisfy the clawing need within.

“When one spends months aboard a ship, one must find something to do of an evening.” What might his nights have been like had he returned to his cabin to find Lillian waiting for him in bed? “Perhaps you might care to join me on my next voyage.”

“Perhaps.”

The brief silence made him acutely aware of his own erratic heartbeat thumping in his ears.

She placed her hand on her chest, the rapid rise and fall drew his gaze. “Heavens, I think I need to rest. It’s been an age since I’ve danced.”

“I doubt you’ve ever danced like that.”

A chuckle escaped. “You’re right, though I would rather a folk dance than the rigid, stifled steps one sees in the ballroom.”