CHAPTER EIGHT
ELLA HELD HER PLAIN dress out with one hand as John took a step forward with his right foot, pushing slightly against her waist with his fingers. She stepped back with her left foot and then over to the right as he again guided her. She stumbled a couple of times, but he was correct—after a very slow start and with a somewhat awkward rhythm, they were truly able to begin to dance.
“Do not look down. Keep your eyes on me,” he said.
She giggled and stared right into his captivating eyes with those long blondish eyelashes. He really was quite handsome. He always had been. Even as a boy when he was angry with her for winning, he was still handsome. After a few minutes, she asked, “Why is it that men seem to have the prettiest eyelashes? ‘Tis not fair.”
Grinning, John replied as he increased his speed a bit, “So that is what you were thinking about just now? How long my lashes are? And here I was quite positive you were enamored with the way I dance.”
Mirth trickled out in a long series of chuckles that made her lose her footing. “Pardon me!” she exclaimed as she trod upon his boots. “I am impressed with your dancing—or rather, your ability to teach me to dance. However, I am more amazed by your eyelashes.”
“Of course you would be!”
“You may take it as a compliment.”
“How so?”
The thoughts swirled within her mind. Because you are wonderful. Because your eyes are beautiful and I cannot look away. Her smile dropped. “Because it means a girl is close enough to see your face and is not looking from a distance to admire your dancing. She is actually seeing and admiring you.”
He raised an eyebrow and smirked. “And is Miss Ella Woodston admitting she is admiring me?”
Ella blushed and looked down, their feet dipping and swirling through the grass of the orchard. “No. What a foolish thing to believe. I was merely stating the difference between the two.”
“Ella?”
“What?”
“Look at me.”
“No.”
“Ella, please?” He slowly brought their steps to a halt.
Her eyes climbed his cravat and coat with her right fingers tucked into his—and his other hand warmly on her waist. “Yes?”
“Look all the way up, please. I would like to see your eyelashes.”
“Can you not see them just the way they are now?”
“Against your reddened cheeks, yes. But I wish to see them with your lively eyes staring back at me.”
She could not explain why, but all of a sudden, her breathing grew more rapid and the sensation of his nearness was overwhelming and unexpected. “I would rather not.”
“Why?”
“I do not know.”
“Ella?” He let go of her waist and tucked his finger under her chin.
Instinctively, she stiffened and pulled back.
He dropped his hand. “Forgive me. I did not mean to startle you. I would never force you to do something against your will—I hope you realize that.”
She was such a fool. Why did she have to be so skittish? Ella nodded and then brought her eyes up to his.
He inhaled sharply.
She did not know what he saw within them, but his own face took on a look of such sorrow.
“Thank you,” he said. “You do not trust many people, do you? So, I thank you.”
This was simply too mortifying. He could read her like a book. “I—I should probably go now.”
John captured her hand before she could run off. “Please do not leave because of my impertinence. You are not the same as the women at court. You are different.”
Her heart went cold. “What are you implying?”
“No, I did not mean it that way.” He cleared his throat. “I meant that your manners are more pleasing, more fresh and natural. You have not mastered the artifice that many of the other women have.”
Warily, Ella’s eyes traced his features. He seemed happy and earnest enough. “And this is something good—it is good to be different?”
He sighed. “Yes! Yes, more than you could ever imagine. Oh, Ella, I get so bored with the incessant chatter of the court—the games and rudeness and constant tiptoeing about everywhere you go so as not to say the wrong thing to the wrong person who will construe it in completely the opposite of what you meant.”
“Oh!” She laughed forcefully and then replied, “So, akin to what has been occurring with us at the moment?”
“Yes.” He nodded and grinned. “Yes. With you, I know it is simply a cultural difference, something I must explain away so you understand what I truly mean. There—there it is a constant battle of confusions and loyalties and naysayers. Truth be told, it is exhausting.”
She looked down at their entwined fingers. “So why attend court if you cannot abide it?”
“I must. It is my life—my, er, situation as an outrider and special companion to the duke to be present everywhere he goes.” He nudged her hand, swinging it a bit. “Honestly, I would much rather be here with you than anywhere else in this kingdom.”
Gasping, her eyes flew to his. “You would? But why?”
His smile softened. “I do not know. There is something about you that tugs at me, though. Something safe and warm and easy. Something that makes me forget my future and all the silliness surrounding life and her trials. No, you are so very different from the women at court that I find myself relieved and grateful to have reconnected with you again.” He brought her hand up and, bowing over it, kissed her knuckles. His soft lips caressed her skin, causing a series of tingles and warmth to spread into her palm and up to her elbow before he straightened himself. “Eleanoria Woodston, may I call again soon?”
She knew she should tell him no. She knew that once her stepmother got wind that she was entertaining a man—even if he were an old friend—if she learned about any of this, Ella would surely be punished worse than before. “I do not know if I dare.”
“What are you saying?” he asked.
What was she saying? She nearly revealed to him her biggest secret. “’Tis nothing—I was merely worried about having a visitor so very much. It might make it more difficult for me to—for me to…” Her voice trailed off as she tried desperately to think of something suitable to say.
“Prepare for the ball?” he asked hesitantly.
“Yes!” Ella smiled. “Yes, precisely. I must make a gown, and therefore, it will take up quite a bit of my time.”
“I see. Well, perhaps on the off chance that you change your mind, I will be out here in the orchard tomorrow around two o’clock, if you would like to see me then.”
Her jaw dropped. “At two o’clock?”
“Yes.”
She swung her arm wide. “Out here. In our orchards?”
“Exactly here.” He grinned, looking pleased with himself.
“But—but here? What will you do out here?”
“Why, wait for you, of course.”
“John!” she protested.
“What?”
“Well, what if I cannot make it?”
“Then I shall entertain myself, I suppose.”
“But what if I can come? Then what?”
“Are you asking what we will do to occupy ourselves?”
“Yes.”
“Why, dance, of course. I have many more steps to teach you.”
When she could not reply, her mouth completely forgetting how to work properly, he said, “So, perhaps tomorrow, then?”
“I—”
He chuckled and brushed his lips over her hand again. “Goodbye, fair Ella. I shall await you tomorrow.”
And then he was gone.