A Comfortable Wife (Regencies 8)

She felt him glance down at her. She looked up, only to discover his lips mere inches away; her gaze, beyond her control, focused on them. They twisted wryly. "Relax. You're stiff as a poker."

The comment, spoken in a tone that was clearly private, only made her stiffen further. Forcing her gaze upwards, she met his gaze. She watched a frown gather in his eyes.

She had no idea how to explain, how to describe the panic mushrooming within her. This was the first waltz of the Little Season, her first public waltz with him—and any second she was going to stumble.

Instinctively, Philip gathered her closer, his hand at her waist reassuringly caressing her spine as he guided her into a turn.

Like a brand, the heat of his hand seared Antonia, excit­ing skin not accustomed to his touch. At the same moment, his thigh parted hers in the turn, hard muscle impressing itself against her softer flesh.

Her breath caught on a stifled gasp; her feet missed a step.

Philip caught her to him, preventing her stumble. Frown­ing, very aware of her distress, he deftly stepped clear of the circle of dancers rounding the end of the room. Smoothly releasing Antonia, he took her hand and ushered her before him towards the doors standing open to the ter­race, his shoulders effectively screening her from any in­terested stares. Pale, she cast a wide-eyed glance up at him; he met it with a superficial smile. "This crowd is impossible—a little fresh air will clear your head."

Antonia hoped it would. She felt dreadful; her head had started to throb. She felt immeasurably grateful when Philip propelled her irresistibly out of the door.

The cool night air hit her like a slap; she stopped dead. "Wait! We can't—"

"There's nothing the least improper in our being out here." Philip's accents, warningly clipped, came from di­rectly behind her. "We are, after all, hardly private."

Glancing about, Antonia discovered he was right. The terrace was a wide, stone-flagged extension of the ballroom floor; other couples, like them, had sought refuge on its uncluttered expanse. There were sufficient others present, strolling and chatting in groups, to nullify any question of impropriety. None, however, were close enough to overhear their conversation.

"Now." Capturing Antonia's attention by the simple ex­pedient of putting one finger under her chin and turning her face to him, Philip raised a commanding brow. "What's wrong?''

Antonia met his gaze, then lifted her chin free of his finger. Her stomach had knotted tight. "I. . . simply had trou­ble with the waltz."

Philip couldn't help himself. "Strange. I was under the impression you considered yourself something of an expert—certainly in no need of further lessons." The morn­ing after Lady Griswald's musical soiree, she had failed to appear in the ballroom. Geoffrey, too, had not shown; when questioned in suitably nonchalant vein, Geoffrey had let fall that his sister had somewhat waspishly informed him that she had learned quite enough.

Antonia risked a glance from beneath her lashes, then, tilting her chin, fixed her gaze on the gardens. "I did not feel it right to take so much of your time. You've been very generous—I did not wish you to feel duty-bound."

Philip managed not to growl. “I never saw teaching you to waltz as a duty." A pleasant distraction, yes—one he had missed. "And it's quite obvious you need further les­sons." The startled glance she threw him was some small consolation. "We'll start again tomorrow. But aside from all that, I'm a great deal more than seven, you know."

Startled by the change in his tone, Antonia glanced up; Philip trapped her gaze. "I've taught you well enough and you learn like a sponge—it wasn't the steps of the waltz that brought you undone." His gaze sharpened. "What was it? Has anyone done anything to upset you?"

His second question and the tension behind it convinced Antonia prevarication would not be wise. She hesitated, then drew in a strengthening breath and, her gaze unfo­cused, admitted, "I find I have great difficulty keeping a proper distance."

Philip frowned. “The distance between us was perfectly proper. I'm far too old a hand to step over the line during the first waltz of the season."

Antonia threw him an exasperated look. “That's not what I meant."

Philip looked down at her. “Then what did you mean?''

Antonia glared. "You know perfectly well what I mean. And it's not at all helpful to tease me about it." Her voice caught; swinging around, she quickly crossed to the bal­ustrade.

Eyes narrowing, Philip watched her, then followed at a more leisurely pace. When he stopped beside her, she was staring into the darkness, her hands clasped tightly before her. "I vaguely recall having this conversation before. While I'm naturally flattered that you persist in thinking me omniscient, I must confess that what you apparently find obvious is very frequently far from obvious to me."

She hesitated, then slowly turned to face him.

Antonia met his gaze with one of her very direct looks. What she saw in his eyes reassured her. "I—" She broke off, frowning, then, lifting her head, swung to face the gar­dens. "I find the. . .sensations of waltzing with you so dis­tracting that I.. . In short, I cannot be sure I will not commit some indiscretion."

Tilting his head, Philip studied her face. "While waltz­ing?"

Her gaze on the shadows, Antonia nodded.

A slow smile broke across Philip's face. Then he recalled that he did not always read her aright. "I take it," he said, carefully composing his features, "that you would not feel. . .compelled to indiscretion while waltzing with anyone else?"

Antonia frowned at him. "Of course not." She studied his face. "I had thought I could cope but. . ." She gestured vaguely.

Philip caught her hand; he waited until she met his eyes before raising it to his lips. He paused, studying her wide eyes, aware of the slim fingers resting in his, aware of the demon too close to his surface. “Geoffrey said you had told him he could trust my advice unreservedly." He raised a brow. "Will you, too, place your trust in me?"