Jane Lark - The Secret Love of a Gentleman

“Your brother is over there, look. Remember your courage. Remember you have survived far worse than a simple assembly dance.”

Drew was in the corner to the left of the door. She took a breath and felt Rob’s hand hover at her lower back as she began to walk. He did not touch her, yet his hand protected her, ensuring no one might bump into her.

Drew watched her progress, a smile lifting his lips slightly. He’d been waiting for her, she could see, hoping she would find the courage to come in.

Relief lay an invisible cloak over her shoulders when she reached him, and Rob stood to one side of her, while Drew moved closer and protected her from the other side, as she stood with her back facing the wall.

“How are you?” Drew had been her sole comfort for years, she’d always looked to him for reassurance, and yet today his words stirred no feeling. It was Rob’s comfort she’d clung to.

She nodded, although in truth her nerves were as tight as a copper coil and she was fighting the urge to run.

Drew took one of her hands and squeezed it gently. “Bravo, Caro.”

“I think Caro could do with a drink,” Rob said. “Do you wish to come with me to the refreshment table?” Rather than be left here without him. He was so thoughtful.

“We’ll join you,” Mary answered.

They walked about the dancers, but when they reached the refreshments, Rob refused to let Caro take the lemonade. “No, drink this.” He handed her a glass of the rum punch. “For a little added courage.”

Drew passed Mary one too and she lifted her glass in a toast, smiling at Caro. “To first steps.”

“To putting on a brave face,” Drew answered, lifting his glass.

“To dancing,” Rob concluded, touching his glass to Caro’s before emptying it in one swallow.

She shook her head at his suggestion.

He leant to her ear. “I dare you.”

She shook her head again, but a smile caught her lips before she took a sip from her glass. The liquor flowed into her blood a moment later, warm and strong.

“Well, Mary and I shall dance the next,” Drew stated, “As I have come, I may as well indulge her.” He looked at Mary. “If you will indulge me, of course, sweetheart.”

“Of course I will. I shall not pass on such an opportunity.”

They smiled at each other, but then Drew looked at Caro. “If you will be happy here with Robbie?”

Her answering smile was to reassure him. “Go and make Mary happy. You deserve some fun.”

Drew took Mary’s hand as the music came to a close and they turned to find a set to join.

“Is dancing fun, then?”

Caro looked at Rob and her smile fell. She took another sip from her glass.

“You said, fun,” he pressed. “If you think it fun, you must enjoy it…”

She shook her head and lifted her glass to her lips once more. Rob’s fingers settled beneath it and tipped it higher. “A little more courage, I think. I shall have to get my brother Harry to make a drinker of you.”

She laughed despite herself, having taken an enforced gulp. A moment later she felt the heat of it in her limbs, making them a little heavier and more relaxed.

“I watched you at my brother’s, at John’s, at the party before I came to Drew’s, you watched people dancing, you watched me dancing as if you would like to dance, so why do you not?”

“Rob….” She could not explain.

“Tell me.”

But this was Rob, who never ceased pushing until she did explain.

“I do not wish to be stared at, to become a spectacle, and make a fool of myself.”

“People might stare, but it would only be because you are beautiful. But that is not the heart of your issue, is it?”

Her blood heated with the knowledge that he thought her beautiful, but his comment had not been flirtatious, he’d said it with a factual tone.

She took another sip of her punch, then placed the glass down. She did not want to drink too much. “My mother used to drink excessively. I have never been comfortable with liquor.” Caro changed the subject, clutching at anything to stop him seeking to persuade her. “I think it was an excess of alcohol that brought Drew and me into the world. I think she knows who Drew’s father is, but I think she cannot even remember mine.” It was a throwaway comment because she was panicking once more, and yet she realised she had perhaps given away too much of herself.

Pity caught in his eyes.

“Do not pity me for that. I came to terms with it long ago.”

“Then, what should I pity you for? What harm is there in telling me why you feel you cannot dance?” He was too perceptive and too forceful.

She picked up the glass again and drank the last of the punch. Then glared at him. “I feel trapped, I cannot be who I wish to be. I cannot do the things I want to do because I’m bound by the past—kept captive by it. I feel as though I have a glass prison cell about me, but it is of my own making.”

“Then break it. Dance the next with me.”

“Rob—”

“ I cannot …” He mimicked her voice. “Only because you will not. But half an hour ago you believed you could not walk into this room. At the beginning of the summer you could not abide being in a room with me. You can do anything you wish. Dance.”

“You do not understand.”

“You have just told me it is you yourself who has created this gaol. You have had the courage to escape far worse. You may tell me tomorrow or the next day, or the day after that why your gaoler still has a hold over you, but tonight… dance.”

C an I? Everything he said was true.

Her heart thumped against her ribs. Could it be so simple?

The tempo of the music changed as the country dance came to a close and a waltz began.

Rob offered his hand. “I dare you to dance with me.”

He was a beautiful young man—and cruel and wonderful. His smile glinted in his eyes.

“Caro,” he said more formally, with a slight bow. “May I have the honour of this waltz?”

“You are a fool,” she answered.

“Perhaps.”

Oh, she had feelings for him. They consumed her when he smiled.

She accepted his hand, and he drew her away from the refreshment table, then lifted their joined hands and formed the hold of the dance as his other hand came about her. When he spun her out onto the floor, she was not aware of anyone else—it was only Rob in the room.

His hand and his fingers, at her back, steered her through the steps.

She’d always loved to dance. Then why had she not done so for years?

Because it was self-punishment, for failing her husband so terribly. But surely she’d done enough penance for the loss of her children. Perhaps now, Rob was right, she might let herself live again.

Guilt cut at her. Yet she could still love and mourn her lost children and not hide or deprive herself of the basic elements of life—dancing. She was dancing.

She looked into Rob’s eyes and forgot about anything except the music, the touch of his hands and the look in his eyes.

He did not speak, and she was glad he did not because it would have broken the magic. She was building new glass walls, ones about a palace in the sky. She smiled as the music skipped through her soul. It was a wonderful feeling; she had always loved dancing.

She was breathless when it came to an end, and stupidly disappointed as Rob walked her to the edge of the room, where they met Mary and Drew.

“Caro…” Drew said with emotion. “Will you dance the next with me? I shall willing make a cake of myself no matter what the dance is, if only to see you smile like that again.”

She actually laughed at him, the fear and the panic were not there; her restraints had gone.

After she’d danced with Drew, the physician who’d treated Mary through two pregnancies asked Caro to dance. Rob and Drew looked at her meaningfully, willing her to accept. Caro knew him, she had drunk tea with him at the house. She smiled and accepted his hand, though hers trembled, but as they danced her nerves eased. It was a fast, jolly dance and she glanced at Rob often. He was dancing with Mary, but he kept glancing over and smiling at her too. He had given her the courage to achieve this.