Once Upon a Romance 01 - Before the Midnight Bells (19 page)

“
I believe, Madam Pirate, that you owe me a dance.”

“
Mmmm… I don’t think that’s discussed in the rules for maritime engagements.”

“
Consider it a kindness to an enemy, then.”

Before she could demur again Max clasped Ella about the wrist and drew her near. He snaked his free arm behind her back and pulled her in against him, far closer than was called for, even by the waltz. Hip to hip, chest to chest, and faces inches away from each other, he spoke, letting his tone become low and intimate;

“
Dance with me.”

Ella was caught. She knew he would let her go if she moved away, but felt incapable of even the slightest denial. His eyes crinkled with just a hint of humor—he knew how bad he was being. As Ella slowly nodded her head, she smiled. It might not be wise, but suddenly dancing with Max was just what she wanted to do.

Before she could change her mind, Max swept her away into the whirl of dancers. The dance floor was so crowded it was a miracle they didn’t cause a collision, but Max seemed to have a sixth sense about when he should turn or twirl her to keep them from disaster. Ella hadn’t been dancing in years, but Max was a strong leader. She let herself relax in his arms, and they glided across the floor. The music drew to a close all too soon, but Ella told herself it was better that way.

“
Now that you’ve had your dance, perhaps we could…”

The orchestra began a polka, and before she had finished the sentence Max grabbed her hand and off they went. Between the music from the orchestra and the noise of what must have been
two
hundred couples prancing around the floor, Ella could scarcely hear herself think, let alone speak to Max. For a moment she was frustrated—she had been preparing herself all day for their conversation, and now it seemed as though they weren’t to have any—but the pleasure of dancing was too great to allow her discontent to last for long. They could talk later. For now she just enjoyed sailing around the floor in the arms of a man she… well, at least
admired
very much.

***

Prudence was creeping around the edge of the mass of dancers, searching for the red-headed young man. Finally she spotted him. He was also making his way around the dance floor, in the opposite direction. Every few steps he would lift his head above the crowd and scan it quickly. She began to move towards him, and almost at the same moment he spotted her, and started threading his way through the crowd, heading
for
her. When at last they were standing face to face, they both stopped, and for a moment neither said anything. Then the red-headed young man broke the silence.

“
Hello.”

“
Hello.”

Again, silence. Prudence gave him her sweetest smile, and received a smile in return. This time Prudence was the first to speak.

“
I have been looking for you.”

“
And I, you.”

Another pause. The red-head shyly reached out and took her hand in his. His next words were wistful.

“
I wanted to call.”

“
I wanted you to call.”

“
But…”

“
Yes, but…”

Prudence wrapped her free hand around his arm, and leaned against him.

“
I’m sorry I wouldn’t dance.”

“
Yes.”

“
Dancing is just so…”

“
I understand. You had to be sure.”

“
Yes.”

“
What changed your mind?”

“
Oh!” She let go his arm and drew forth from her bodice the fabric swatches Ella had given her. “My stepsister found these for me. They go with red hair!”

His eyes went blank for a moment, and then filled with the light of adoration. “I always wanted a daughter.”

When she laughed delightedly, he gathered up both her hands in his.

“
Tell me your name.”

“
I am Prudence Emberton.” She spoke softly.

“
And I, Miss Emberton, am Evan Binkley.” Mr. Binkley raised her hands to his lips and kissed first one, then the other. “Would you do me the honor of dancing with me?”

“
Mr. Binkley, I would be delighted.”

***

Max was amazed they hadn’t trampled anyone yet. He could hardly take his eyes off of Ella, and that must have made him dangerous on the dance floor. Several times he had narrowly avoided a mishap only by twirling Ella hastily out of the way. His beautiful partner either hadn’t noticed, or didn’t care. Her face was alight with enjoyment of the moment, and the happiness in her eyes brought forth an answering warmth in his chest. When they had first stepped onto the dance floor Max had loosened his grip to something deemed acceptable to propriety, but with each pass across the floor he drew her just a bit closer to his body, just a bit deeper into his arms. When they had stepped apart for a
q
uadrille, Max had felt nothing but impatience, until another waltz began and he could gather her close once more.

Ella felt like she was flying and falling, all at once. How the color blue could evoke such heat she didn’t know, but his eyes, like a summer sky, made her feel as though she were glowing all over. As
the cadence signaled the final measures of the music,
Max pulled her fully against his side and, pivoting in place, spun her about until she threw back her head and laughed in delight. It was magical, but abruptly the magic came to an end, along with the music and the dance, as Ella’s plumed headgear went sailing off into the sea of dancers.

“
My hat!” Ella gave Max a stricken look, and then plunged after the thing. Max didn’t have the heart to tell her it was likely to be trampled by the time she found it. He watched with fond amusement as she wound her way through the crowd, until the feeling of eyes on him drew his attention. There stood Vivienne, eyeing him with a mixture of hilarity and irritation. He had no idea what, exactly, had caused the former, but the latter was clearly brought on by the
p
rincess’s dance partner. Marcus Havilard was the son and heir to Lord Havilard, the Marquis of Ells. The
m
arquis was currently off somewhere drinking brandy with the king, and both father and son liked to be the bearer of tales. In fact, even as he spotted them, Max saw Marcus make his hasty goodbyes, push his way past the princess
’ guards,
and practically run out of the ballroom.

Vivienne moved toward him at a stately glide, which nonetheless covered ground quickly.

“
Surely it was only the presence of your hats that kept the two of you from merging with one another, face first.”

“
Oh come now, we weren’t that bad.”

“
Really? That’s not what Marcus is likely even now telling his father. His father, in turn, will probably announce it to all his cronies, who will, of course, clamor for
my
father to come and do something about it.” She looked at him archly. “I’m guessing you have roughly five minutes to explain whatever it is you plan to explain to your lovely seamstress,
and
come up with a plausible excuse for why you were dancing like
that
with a woman other than me.”

“
What, you’re not going to help me?”

“
Four minutes and fifty-five seconds.”

“
You’re a hard woman, Vivi.”

Max took off after Ella. He caught up to her on the far side of the grand ballroom, where she was turning in circles, trying to catch a glimpse of her hat.

“
It doesn’t have legs, where on earth did it go?”

“
Ella, I need to…”

“
Seriously, Max, I put a lot of effort into that hat and I don’t want it lost. I was going to display it in the window of my shop.”

“
Please, this is importa…”

“
Well
this
is important, too, where is that blasted hat?”

“
Ella!”

“
What?!” Finally, he had her attention.

“
ELLA!” Millicent hurried up to them. “Oh dear, Ella, you must come quickly, oh goodness gracious.” The stout little woman was out of breath, but bravely told her tale. “We have to get Beatrice out of here.”

“
What ever is the matter?”

“
Well, she’s decided that dancing with one gentleman at a time takes too long, so she’s got all of them together, playing
cards.
”

“
A bit outlandish, I suppose.” Max decided that he’d put in his own opinion, as long as his time was wasting away to no purpose. “But hardly worth getting upset over.”

“
And who might you be, sir?”

“
Max.”

Millicent gave Max a rather firm look. No matter how flustered she was, it had not escaped her noticed that he had provided neither a last name nor a title, and she saw no reason for a man to withhold such information, particularly a man speaking alone with her stepdaughter. She was taking a impressively large gulp of air, doubtless in preparation for interrogating him further, when Ella stepped in.

“
Stepmother, Max has a point. Beatrice playing cards is hardly a disaster.”

“
Eleanor, darling, you don’t understand.” Millicent dropped her voice to a whisper, but Max leaned in and caught the words. “They’re
wagering.
”

Ella blanched. She was barely keeping the family afloat as it was; if Beatrice lost at cards…

“
How much is she down by?” From Ella’s tone is was clear she expected the worst.

“
No, no, no, you don’t understand, she’s
winning.
”

“
Winning?” Max and Ella spoke at the same time.

“
Yes. Winning.
”