Springtime Pleasures by Sandra Schwab Read Free Book Online Page A

deepen as he led her to the dance floor. Indeed, he looked very much like a man on the way to his own execution.
    Charlie frowned.
    Surely her tallness could not affect him in such an extreme manner—or could it? After all, he was a few inches taller than herself, which certainly constituted a novelty that evening. “If you’d rather we didn’t…” she began tentatively.
    He pressed his lips together and shook his head. Then he glanced down at her. “I am afraid you will find me an indifferent dancer, Miss Stanton. My technique is far from splendid, and I’m sadly out of exercise in the art of the country dance. So I fear you will be in for a disappointment.”
    Charlie searched his face—all in all, it was a nice face, despite its stern aspect. His chin was square and firm, the shape of his lips rather becoming, the nose straight and slightly bony, and his eyes the colour of a horse chestnut. A lock of blond hair flopped endearingly down over his forehead. As she watched, a nerve jumped in his cheek.
    It occurred to her then that the poor man was probably horribly nervous—Mr Bernstone had warned them that there existed gentlemen who might feel uncomfortable dancing and had a propensity for stumbling over their own feet. One had to look at such unfortunate persons with charity, he had impressed upon the girls at St. Cuthbert’s. Under no circumstances must such poor people be teased or bullied or their frocks decorated with slips of paper bearing comic inscriptions.
    After listening to the deprecating remarks made about her own person, Charlie was in no mood for teasing anybody this evening anyway, and so she adjusted her spectacles with her free hand and gave Lord Chanderley an encouraging smile. If he was indeed so bad at dancing, it was no wonder the poor man looked like three days of torrential rain. “I believe we will get on famously,” she said, and made her voice light. “Listen—they are playing are slow dance. We will do splendidly, I am sure.”
    He inclined his head. “As you wish.”
    While he led her to a place in the long row of dancers, Charlie cast about for a subject that would put him at ease. Her acquaintance with gentlemen being limited, this presented somewhat of a problem. She supposed that Mr Bernstone did count as a gentleman even though he was only a music teacher. But he was a very good one, and, besides, had a friend in far-away places who regularly sent him copious amounts of Turkish delight, which he was happy to share with the whole of St. Cuthbert’s. Apart from music, Mr Bernstone was rather fond of fishing. On a sunny day, he could be often found standing in the shallow stream not far from the school, casting his rod and letting the line dance over the water.
    The only streams Charlie had seen in London had been the Thames and the Serpentine in Hyde Park. She had not detected anybody fishing in any of these waters, but the topic was worth a try. Didn’t gentlemen spend a lot of time in the country in the summer and autumn? They would be able to go fishing then, wouldn’t they?
    And so, when they first met in the course of the set, Charlie gave Lord Chanderley a sunny smile and asked, “Don’t you find fishing extremely exciting?” When she took the proffered hand, something like a tingle shot up her arm and she had to fight hard to keep the smile in place. His hand was large, and even through both their gloves she could feel the hardness of his palm.
    One-two—they stepped towards each other.
    Oh my! she thought, her breath hitching in her chest.
    With his fingers closed around hers, she could now feel their strength. And their size. Her hand felt positively dwarfed within his!
    Three-four—they stepped back.
    “Fishing?” His brows rose. In contrast to the rest of his hair, they were dark, almost black. And very bushy.
    One-two—and around, around in a circle.
    Heat radiated from his body. And a… scent. A very nice one. Very masculine, too. Indeed, he was a very