She’d managed to stall work on the lock and back him into a corner where his next move could only be asking for an act of Parliament. A move he certainly didn’t want to take, preferring willing cooperation over legal edicts. But if the lock wasn’t built soon, the canal wouldn’t go through. All of his planning and work would come to naught, and he’d be left with nothing more to do, no work to engage in. It would kill him.
White flashed at the top of the stairs. His gaze darted to the landing—
A low tingle rose inside him as he watched her give her invitation to the Master of Ceremonies. His breath hitched with nervous anticipation despite a soft chuckle to himself as her name was announced.
Her gaze moved over the ballroom below as she slowly descended. Halfway down the stairs, she found him and stopped.
Holding her gaze across the room, he held out his hand toward her in invitation, as if she were only a few feet from him rather than across the grand ballroom. The party faded away around them until it was only the two of them. No one else in the room mattered.
She drew in a nervous breath, her slender shoulders stiff. Then a smile spread beneath her white satin half-mask, and she moved on, gliding down the remaining stairs and into the crowd which parted around her as she came to him.
As she reached him, the musicians struck up the opening notes of a waltz.
Wordlessly, she slipped her trembling hand into his. He raised it to his lips, unable to resist this small kiss, then led her forward to the dance floor, to take her into his arms and twirl her into the waltz.
CORA LAUGHED as happiness bubbled through her, the soft sound rising and falling with the music that swirled around them. He led her through the steps, and they moved together as if they were one, oblivious to the party around them. She knew only the warmth of his brown eyes as he held her captive beneath his gaze from behind his black mask, his attention fixed on her as if she were the only woman in the world.
He gave her fingers a light squeeze of reassurance. The soft gesture raced up her arm and landed in her chest, making her heart race like a drum and her breasts grow heavy.
“Lady Swan,” he murmured with a curl of his sensuous lips. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”
“And you,” she answered breathlessly, knowing it wasn’t the waltzing that was stealing her breath away, “my Lord Panther.”
His eyes gleamed. “Sweet heavens, you are beautiful.”
Thank God that she wore a mask, or he would have seen the scarlet flush of her cheeks despite her soft laugh. “But you cannot see my face!”
“I don’t need to.” Another squeeze to her fingers, this time with a shift of his body to draw her slightly closer. “I’ve seen into your soul and know how precious you are.”
She would have stumbled if not for his strong arms that kept her securely in position. “But,” she whispered, unable to find her voice, “you don’t even know my name.”
“Yet I know you nearly as well as I know myself.”
They reached the end of the ballroom and started back in a series of turns that left her light-headed. No—
“Names hold no significance.” He lowered his head to murmur in her ear. “You’ve revealed your heart to me in your letters. I know exactly how beautiful you are, and it has nothing to do with how you look.”
Before she could say the same about him, the waltz ended. He dropped into a low, formal bow to match her curtsy, but when she rose to walk off the floor, he stopped her.
“Give me another dance.”
She wanted nothing more. But she knew society’s rules, even if she’d never been part of it. “Two dances in a row with the same man is scandalous.”
“Then it’s a good thing we’re wearing masks.” He took her hand between his, unwilling to let her go. “I just found you, Lady Swan. I can’t bear to give you up so soon.”
His hopeful gaze undid her. How could she resist?
With a nod, she took her place for the next dance, and when the quadrille started, oh, how glad she was that she’d agreed! They moved back and forth, close and away, and something about the roiling knots of dancing couples struck her as more intimate than the waltz had been. Snatches of conversation when they came together, curious gazes when they parted…enough for her to realize that he was broad shouldered and physically fit, that his black clothes clung to a muscular body used to hard work, that his jaw was firm and masculine, his hair curly dark brown and most likely as silky soft as it looked.
