Jane Goodger (27 page)

“How many men are on that dance card of yours?” he asked now.

She hid it from view. “It’s full,” she said, watching as the first dancers took up a lively reel.

“Then why aren’t you dancing?”

“Because it’s full,” she said again, holding up the elaborately decorated little book. “It’s the only polite way a lady can decline a gentlemen’s request to dance.”

“I want you to dance,” Boone said.

“The last time I did, you were a jealous boor,” Amelia cheerfully pointed out.

“That was before.”

“Before what?”

She was looking at up him, her eyes sparkling, and he just couldn’t help himself. He wasted another berry. “Before I realized how much you love me,” he whispered in her ear.

The Duke of Bellingham strode up to her at that moment and bowed gracefully. “I wonder if you would honor me with a dance, Mrs. Kitteridge. If that is acceptable, Dr. Kitteridge,” he said with a small bow.

Amelia pretended to look at her completely empty dance card. “Of course, Your Grace, I would be honored.” She held out a gloved hand and gave Boone a secret smile, and Boone watched her dance off in the arms of another man.

It didn’t bother him at all, for he trusted their love completely. But watching her dance, her graceful turns, her smiling face looking up at the duke, he wanted to feel her in his arms, even if it meant humiliating himself on the dance floor. Suddenly, he was glad of those gloves, for he could feel his hands begin to sweat. It wasn’t lost on him that he could stem the flow of a spurting artery with more calm than he could dance with the woman he loved.

Amelia didn’t dance every dance, and he didn’t stand on the side scowling at her dance partners, either. He was frequently pulled away from his spot to talk with men who wanted to hear in detail how Lord Wallace was faring. The man would recover, though he was still weak from blood loss. For the first time in his life, he felt confident and comfortable in his own skin, talking with men on all matter of subjects.

As the night wore on, his anxiety grew about the last waltz—“The Blue Danube.” As compositions went, it was one of his favorites. He just prayed he wouldn’t make a complete ass of himself. Whenever a waltz came up, he studied how the other men held themselves, the steps they took, the confidence in their demeanor.

He watched, smiling, as Lord Hollings danced a polka with Amelia, brother and sister laughing as they threw themselves wholeheartedly into the steps. A hand touched his arm.

“You’ll do fine,” Lady Hollings said, looking up at him. “You know the steps. In fact, you’re a finer dancer than many of the men out there, including the earl. You were a much better student than I.”

Boone knew he did not look like a man about to dance with his beloved wife. Likely he looked more like a man about to face an executioner. He’d step on her toes. He’d hit someone else. As the polka wound down, he took a shaky breath.

“You look like you’re about to be ill, Dr. Kitteridge,” Maggie said, a smile in her voice.

“You’d make a fine doctor,” he said grimly.

As brother and sister approached, Boone stepped forward and bowed slightly in front of his wife.

“May I have the honor of your hand for this dance?” he asked solemnly.

Amelia looked at him, tears glittering in her eyes, all the love she felt for him clearly showing for everyone to see. “Oh, Boone, you don’t have to,” she said.

“Yes. I do.” He held up a gloved hand and she took it, gazing at her husband as if he were allowing her to walk on water.

The first strains of the waltz began and she braced herself, her heart breaking for this man she loved so much, who’d put himself at such risk for her. And then, the most amazing thing happened.

He was wonderful. Not just adequate, but wonderful. He led her around the dance floor like a man who’d been taught by the finest of dance tutors, and she narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Dr. Boone Kitteridge,” she said, “you know how to dance, don’t you?”

He smiled down at her. “Only the waltz,” he said, twirling her about with newfound confidence. “And only with you.”

And then Dr. Boone Kitteridge did something that would be talked about for years. He stopped dancing and used up their last mistletoe berry, right there on the dance floor, right there for all to see. It seemed as if the entire room let out a collective sigh, for few had ever witnessed anything more shockingly romantic than Dr. Kitteridge kissing his wife in the middle of that Christmas waltz.

Did you miss Jane’s
other books in the series?

Go back and read those as well!

A Christmas wedding to the Duke of Bellingham. Any other socialite in Newport, Rhode Island, would be overjoyed at the prospect, but Elizabeth Cummings finds her mother’s announcement as appealing as a prison sentence. Elizabeth has not the slightest desire to meet Randall Blackmore, let alone be bartered for an English title. Her heart belongs to another, and the duke’s prestige, arrogance, and rugged charm will make no difference to her plans of elopement.

Against his expectations and desires, Randall Blackmore has inherited a dukedom and a vast estate that only marriage to an heiress can save. Selling his title to the highest bidder is a wretched obligation, but to Randall’s surprise his intended bride is pretty, courageous, delightfully impertinent—and completely uninterested in becoming a duchess. Yet suddenly, no other woman will do, and a marriage in name only will never be enough for a husband determined to win his wife in body, heart, and soul…

Dashing, debonair, and completely irresistible, Edward Hollings has all of Newport buzzing—and to Maggie Pierce’s surprise, she alone has caught his eye. But when the handsome earl returns to England without proposing, a devastated Maggie knows she must forget him. Life only gets worse for Maggie, as all her dreams of happiness and love come crashing down around her. When Maggie receives an invitation to go to England for the Christmas birth of her dear friend’s baby, she accepts—vowing to keep her devastating lies and shameful secrets from the one man she has ever loved.

Edward vowed he’d never marry, but he came dangerously close with Maggie. She’s beautiful, witty, indescribably desirable—and Edward can’t forget her. When Maggie visits mutual friends for Christmas, Edward can’t stay away. In fact, he finds himself more attracted to her than ever—a desire fueled even more by Maggie’s repeated snubs. With the love he never thought he’d find slipping away, Edward is determined to make Maggie his own, no matter what the cost…