Chapter One
"London
1880
"Dance with me."
Beside her, Lady Ornov huffed in shock, but Lily was so taken by the shape and beauty of the hand held out to her that she was barely aware of the effrontery of the request. He was not wearing evening gloves, this man who'd approached her from out of the crush of the crowded ballroom. It was an utterly masculine hand, but long and slender-fingered, made for elegant, graceful gestures, yet without concealing inherent strength. Her fanciful imagination told her that this was a hand that was as at ease holding a weapon as it was being held out in a gesture of request.
"Dance with me," he repeated.
As no one had ever asked Lily to dance before, the words seemed almost foreign to her, but the rich timbre of the stranger's voice sent a deep shockwave through her. She'd run through quite a gamut of emotions recently, among them grief, fear, and helpless fury, but her reaction to the man's voice was certainly something new. And she liked it, strong and vivid though it was.
She couldn't help but smile. She couldn't help but look up into dark, dark eyes, and say, "Gladly."
Lily shifted her gaze quickly after that bit of boldness, but she didn't back out of the agreement to dance, though she knew the action might cost her. She thought Lady Ornov might actually grab her by the back of her ball gown to keep her from stepping away from the wall, for the lady took her position as chaperone very seriously. Whatever her chaperone might have done was quite swiftly moot, for the stranger whisked her onto the dance floor with a grace that masked the amazing speed of the movement. When they began to whirl in time with the music, it wasmagical.
Well, it would have been more magical if she had not stepped on her partner's foot first thing.
"You dance beautifully." Her partner lied without even a wince.
"I hope I didn't hurt your toes too badly."
"A tiny thing like you? Doubt you even scuffed the shoe leather, my dear." His fingers shifted subtly on her waist, to control her movements better, Lily supposed.
Though she was slender, she hardly thought of herself as little, for she was rather tall for a woman. Willowy, was the term her mother used, countering her father's contention that Lily's stature was regal. Her cousin Gregory called her a skinny roan colt, which she didn't mind hearing from him at all. She didn't want compliments from King Gregory of Bororavia.
"You look suddenly sad." Her partner's concerned voice broke into her thoughts. "Are you worrying about my shoes? I beg you not to give them another thought."
"I was not thinking about your shoes," she answered, trying to adopt his teasing tone while cursing her inability to hide her emotions. She had thought she was quite good at schooling her features to keep her thoughts to herself until this moment. Perhaps her partner was more discerning than most, or his charm made her guard slip. She'd have to be more careful. "I'm not used to dancing so quickly," she answered as they twirled deeper into the swift-moving crowd.
"You've never waltzed before?"
"Oh, yes. But never with anyone under sixty," she confessed.
"How do you know I'm under sixty if you won't look at me."
"I suppose I could be wrong in my estimation, but you don't feel ... wrinkled."
He laughed, and the infectious sound drew Lily's gaze to his face for the firsttime. If she'd thought his hands, eyes, and voice attractive, they paled in comparison to the entirety of the smiling countenance before her. How dark eyes could be so bright, she did not know, nor did she understand the thrill of excitement they communicated to her. The twinkle of roguish merriment lit up his whole face. It was a long face, with sharp, chiseled cheekbones and a wide, mobile mouth. His hair was a rich, dark brown with a hint of red in it, very thick and a bit too long for fashion. It was probably auburn in the sunlight.
His smile flashed bright white teeth, and he asked, "Whatever are you thinking, my dear?"
"That you do not look quite reputable," Lily answered, speaking her mind before she could stop herself.
"Quite correct," he replied before she could draw breath to apologize for such an outlandish statement. "Very discerning of you."
Lily wanted more than anything to laugh, but she managed to control the impulse. Still, she was a bit breathless when she said, "First I trod on you, now I've insulted you. You really don't have to put up with this."
His smile was mellow and warm, as was his voice when he answered. "Every action has a price, my pretty. I didn't expect to dance for free."
Lily did not at all know how to take this Comment. Was this handsome stranger insulting her? Teasing her? She was a person used to plain talk and plain actions. That she now had to navigate her way through a world that was anything but plain and simple did not exactly confuse her, but she often found the necessity of always being on her guard quite irritating. Once one learned guile, how did one unlearn it?
She did agree that this dance came with a price for her,but a scolding from Lady Ornov was a fair enough punishment for this small act of rebellion. She felt as if she hadn't moved in weeks, but now she was being rushed along into a new world of warmth and color ...
Susan Sizemore's life and interests include such varied activities as medieval costuming and embroidery, being a chef, and working in the defense industry.She is owned by her spoiled rotten, beloved mutt dog, rather than the other way around, and this is just fine with her.Current hobbies include hiking and studying t'ai chi. She travels whenever she can, loves history, loud music, movies, good coffee, and writes constantly.She hopes readers enjoy her stories as much as she enjoys writing them.She has won the Romance Writers of America's Golden Heart Award and has been nominated for two Romantic Times awards.