"Belle, if this is some kind of joke-"

"Of course it isn't a joke," she cut in quickly. "I know that your leg is injured, but it doesn't seem to slow you overmuch."

"I may have taught myself to move with a reasonable degree of speed, but I do so with a complete lack of grace." His hand strayed unconsciously to his leg. Nightmarish visions of himself tumbling clumsily to the floor played out in his mind. "I'm sure we can entertain ourselves without my playing the fool trying to dance. Besides, we haven't any music."

"Hmrnm, that is a problem." Belle glanced around the room until her eyes rested on the piano in the corner. "It appears that we have two choices. The first option is that I could ask Emma to come in and play for us, but I'm afraid she has never been accused of possessing musical talent. I wouldn't wish her noise on my worst enemy." She smiled sunnily. "Much less one of my good friends."

The force of her smile hit John squarely in the heart. "Belle," he said softly. "I don't think this is going to work."

"You won't know unless you try." She stood up and smoothed down her dress. "I think it's agreed that Emma at the piano is not an option, so I suppose I'll just have to sing."

"Can you?"

"Sing?"

John nodded.

"Probably about as well as you can dance."

"In that case, my lady, I think we may be in dire straits, indeed."

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"I'm only teasing. I'm no diva, but I can carry a tune."

How much could it hurt to pretend-if only for an afternoon-that she could be his, that she was his, that he could possibly deserve her? He stood, determined to taste just a bit of heaven. "I hope you will have the courtesy not to wince out loud when I trod on your feet."

"Oh, don't worry, my lord, I shall wince very softly, indeed." On impulse, she leaned up and quickly kissed John's cheek, whispering, "My feet are very sturdy."

"For your sake, I should hope so."

"Now, which dances do you know?"

"None."

"None? What did you do in London?"

"I never bothered with the social whirl."

"Oh." Belle nibbled on her lower lip. "This is going to be more of a challenge than I anticipated. But have no fear, I am sure you are up to the task."

"I believe the more appropriate question is whether or not you are up to the task."

"Oh, I am," Belle said with a jaunty grin. "Believe me, I am. Now, I think we should start with a waltz. Some of the other dances might be a bit too taxing for your leg. Although perhaps not. You yourself said that you are able to move with reasonable speed."

John bit back a smile. "A waltz would be lovely. Just tell me what to do."

"Put your hand here like this." Belle picked up his hand and placed it on her slender waist. "And then I put my hand on your shoulder, see? Hmmm, you're quite tall."

"Is that a compliment?"

"Of course it is. Although I wouldn't like you any less if you were shorter."

"That is certainly gratifying to know."

"Are you poking fun at me?"

"Just a bit."

Belle shot him a teasing glance. "Well, just a bit is all right, I suppose, but no more than that. I'm terribly sensitive."

"I shall try to refrain."

"Thank you."

"Although you sometimes make it very difficult."

Belle poked him in the chest and resumed their waltzing lessons. "Hush. Now, take my other hand like this. Wonderful. We're all set."

"We are?" John cast a dubious eye over their position. "You're rather far away."

"This is the correct position. I've done this a thousand times."

"We could fit another person between us."

"I cannot imagine why we would want to."

John slowly tightened his grip around Belle's waist and pulled her to him until she could feel the heat from his body. "Isn't this better?" he murmured.

Belle's breath caught in her throat. John was barely an inch away, and his nearness was making her pulse race. "We would never be allowed in any respectable ballroom," she said huskily.

"I prefer dancing in private." John leaned down and let his lips brush gently against hers.

Belle swallowed nervously. She enjoyed his kisses, but she couldn't help but feel that she was getting herself into a situation she could not handle. So with more than a few regrets she stepped back, loosening John's grip on her until there was a respectable distance between their bodies again. "I can't very well teach you to waltz if we aren't in the proper position," she explained. "Now then, the key to waltzes is that they are in three-four time. Most other dances are in common time."

"Common time?"

"Four-four. Waltzes go 'one-two-three, one-two three, one-two-three.' Common time goes 'one-two-three-four.' "

"I think I see the difference."

Belle glanced up sharply at him. Tiny lines around his eyes crinkled with humor. Her own lips tugged upward at the corners as she tried to suppress a smile. "Good. Therefore a waltz might sound like this." She started humming a tune which had been very popular in London during the last season.

"I can't hear you." He started to pull her closer.

Belle wriggled back into her original position. "I'll sing, then."

John's hand tightened gently around her waist. "I still can't hear you.",

"Yes, you can. Stop your games, or we'll never get our waltzing lesson underway."




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