A Gentleman's Wager Chapter 8: Dance Lessons, a star wars fanfic

Chapter 8: Dance Lessons

Rey discovers that dancing may be a pleasurable experience, after all.

[excerpt]:

"Un moment, s'il vous plait. If I may impose on you just one more time, Lord Ren. Miss Kenobi has made such remarkable progress today, there is another dance I would like her to learn, with your assistance." He held his left arm dramatically overhead while his right arm curved gently towards the side, his left leg extended in a delicately pointed line.

"The French waltz," he announced, with an excited flourish.

~O~~O~~O~~O~~O~~O~

Dancing is in itself a very trifling, silly thing; but it is one of those established follies to which people of sense are sometimes obliged to conform, and then they should be able to do it well

-Lord Chesterfield, Letters to His Son on the Art of Becoming a Man in the World and a Gentleman

It was a particularly nice day, the autumn sun still providing a pleasant warmth despite the longer shadows of the afternoon. The leaves were beginning to turn, and a few precocious ones fell to the ground, their brittle edges curling and giving way as the horses trod over the lightly carpeted path. Sweet chestnut trees flowered, their spiny protective husks providing a tantalizing peek of the rich meat within, to be roasted and savored during the Christmas season. The larch had turned a golden yellow, its winged seeds occasionally escaping from underneath their loosened, conical scales to travel with the wind.

The two men were silent, comfortable in their familiarity and with each other to eschew minor pleasantries and inane chatter. Kylo surveyed the thick brush and thickets near the fields, the vegetation untrampled and showing no physical evidence of poaching. An occasional flash of gold and green was spotted near the gravelly roads, the pheasants lured from their hiding spots by their need to feed in the late afternoon. Their boldness was quickly followed by the sound of whirring wings and their tikking cries as the horses drew near, the colorful birds seeking refuge in the skies.

Kylo smiled with satisfaction. The berries and clover were abundant, and there were many visible nests throughout the grounds. There would be plenty of pheasants in time for the hunt and to grace their dinner tables in the upcoming weeks.

He looked at the man riding beside him. Hux was uncharacteristically quiet, his eyes thoughtful and distant.

Kylo frowned. "You have yet to say two words since you've arrived this morning. Have my considerable charms left you so overwhelmed as to render you tongue-tied?"

His expression turned serious and his voice gentled as he took in Hux's wan smile. "I can only imagine how the events of the last several months weigh heavily on your mind."

Hux ran his hand through his hair, silently acknowledging Ren's assessment. He had traveled towards Burgos with General Arthur Wellesley in the past month, seizing upon the opportunity to defeat the French Army when Bertrand Clausel took a large number of his troops north of Madrid. In a rare miscalculation, however, the British Army found themselves short in both number and artillery, suffering heavy damages, starvation, and mass casualties as a consequence. The influx of French relief soldiers under Joseph Souham several weeks later finally forced their withdrawal, a rarity for Wellesley's troops. By the time Hux headed back to England, the damage was done: the number of the dead and wounded in the thousands, with discipline and morale in shambles.

"Sorry, Ren." Hux sighed. There was a dissonance between the beauty and peace of Caserta and the ugliness and violence of the battlefield which still tore at him.

His left hand lowered to his thigh unconsciously. It was only a flesh wound, but one which caused him a slight limp and temporarily prevented his return to battle. His gait had grown steadier and the wound less angry as the weeks progressed, but the thin, silvery-pink tissue which contrasted with his fair skin served as a daily reminder of those who were not as fortunate.

He exhaled. "I'm just tired from the trip this morning. The coachman treated his horses in an abominable manner, and we finished the journey with just two left of the four." Kylo remained silent, allowing Hux to gather his thoughts.

Hux continued. "I'm not feeling sorry for myself, just so you know. I realize that I am more fortunate than most. It is the condition of those who cannot feel anymore which occupies my mind."

Kylo looked him over. "You cannot feel guilty for having survived, Hux. Your men need you, and I am sure that they would feel no compulsion to place themselves right back under your command once you are well enough to return. You remain here with us, perhaps for a higher purpose, and for this I am selfishly glad." Kylo was not a religious man by any means, only remaining a member of the Anglican church out of a sense of misplaced duty, but in this case, he believed his words whole-heartedly.

Hux looked over at the unspoiled, expansive greenery, a far cry from the acrid smoke and harsh sounds of the wounded in battle. He hoped that Ren's faith was not misplaced. Hux had always possessed the natural ability to lead and instill a fierce loyalty in his troops. He realized that he would need to be strong in both his physical and emotional states to continue to do so, and in that moment made the determination to spend his convalescence embracing that very concept.

He turned towards his friend, his face brightening. "How are things with our little pickpocket?"

Kylo noted the small smile which curved on Hux's lips and the unmistakable interest and lightness in his tone.

"She is excelling in most of her studies. She is exceedingly smart, and Master Luke has been pleasantly surprised with the level of her academic interest and progress."

Hux raised a brow. "Most of her studies?"

Kylo grinned. "Well, Rey is-shall we say-less adept in other areas of pursuit. Just yesterday, she took an extreme dislike towards a needle which had dared to prick her finger more than once, and left the offending object and her needlepoint in several pieces on the floor."

Kylo wondered how she would fare with Master Forel this afternoon. It had not escaped his attention that the poor man had worn progressively thicker and heavier shoes with each successive dance lesson.

Hux genuinely laughed. Kylo turned, ashamed at the flash of jealousy which flared in response. The words slipped out before he could stop them, making him feel petty and small.

"Are you-interested in her?"

Hux turned, surprised to see the curious mix of possessiveness followed by resignation which washed over Ren's face.

"Of course. But not in the way that I believe you are implying."

Hux continued, his eyes now focused ahead. "Miss Kenobi is a breath of fresh air in a world which can be occasionally suffocating. I wish her every success and happiness, even if it comes at the expense of my honor and reputation." He drew his brows together in consternation. "Go easy on me, Ren, in whatever 'activity' it is that you have planned for me in your devious little mind."

Kylo smirked. He had not forgotten the terms of their wager.

Hux mused. "Perhaps if it were a different time in the world, I would have pursued her affections. But an officer's life is a difficult one, and not something I would wish for one so young and lonely." He let out a sigh. "I need someone who has knowledge and experience of the world around us, who can understand the things which I have seen and still appeciate the joy and beauty in life."

He brought out his next words slowly. "What of you, Ren? There is no denying that Rey is a very beautiful woman."

Kylo exhaled. "Yes, she is. She will make a fine match. I have no doubt that all the dimber coves in London will be vying for her attention, waiting to sweep her off her feet."

Hux asked gently. "And you don't think that one of them could be you?"

Kylo scoffed. "You know me, Hux. The gossip and scandal attached to my name." His voice dropped into a low growl. "How I like to keep my company. All of my past, and my current...pursuits. Rey belongs with a knave in grain, not an out-an-outer."

"And yet you still have not answered my question, Ren."

Kylo caved under Hux's knowing stare. "It matters not now, anyway. I have invited Bazine to the Winter Ball at Caserta, and left open the possibility of continuing our acquaintance once we return to London."

"What?!" The admission ruffled Hux's normally cool demeanor, causing him to yank back on the reins a little too forcefully and his horse to rear.

Ren's grew stubborn upon hearing the anger in Hux's voice. "Bazine made a call to Caserta recently. It appears as if she will not be tied to that crusty beau of a husband for much longer."

Hux's lips thinned. "I hope you are not looking for my blessing and congratulations, Ren, because I can't give them to you. It is unforgivable, what she has done."

"And I would say the same to you as a concerned friend if the roles were reversed. But Bazine has herself suffered greatly as a result of her parents' interference. She was taken to Silesia on the very night we were supposed to meet, and the things which subsequently befell her during her marriage..." Ren's voice choked. "They are things you would not wish on your worst enemy. Indiscretions and indignations, which were told to me in confidence, and which are not mine to divulge."

Hux shook his head, as he replied softly. "But Ren. Even if that were true. The news of your near death did not escape the papers, nor the gossip rags. Ten years, and without any attempts on her end to see how you were faring, to reach out to you until now?"

Kylo sighed as Hux echoed those doubts which still lingered in his mind.

"It is only an invitation at this point, Hux. Nothing more."

~O~~O~~O~O~~O~~O~~O~

"Good afternoon, Mister Kylo. Lord Hux." Daniels greeted the men as they entered Caserta Hall. He handed Kylo a letter, folded in quarters and covered in a masculine script.

"Mister Kylo. The horse messenger dropped off this post while you were out riding."

"Thank you, Daniels." Kylo looked over the letter and the unfamiliar penmanship, scanning its contents quickly as he broke out into a smile.

"Colonel Dameron will be arriving here in a fortnight to work with the Lipizzan. I am excited to see how-"

"Oooof!" A groan came from the direction of the Great Hall. Hux and Kylo turned in time to see a slight male emerge. There was a pained look on his face as he bent over, his hands making a slow clutching motion in the region of his groin.

"Il est impossible! Elle a deux pieds gauches!" he gasped.

Hux's shoulders silently shook as Kylo tried unsuccessfully to prevent his laugher from escaping. The flurry of silks and a whirlwind of a girl followed close behind.

"I am so sorry, Master Forel!" Rey caught the gazes of the two men who were watching with unabashed amusement, as her face flushed.

"Hello, My Lords. Master Forel has been teaching me an English country dance."

"Dancing, Miss Kenobi, is not a matter of walking aimlessly through the figures and changes. Or tromping on toes, or your partner's more-delicate regions!" His last words came out in a squeak.

Rey grumbled. "Yes, well I suppose that's easy enough to say when one does not feel like a cow tied up in one's bed sheets. Perhaps I may just sit out and watch, then, when the time comes?" she added hopefully. "It may spare my future partners any further indignity."

"Ah non ! Ça ne marche pas! I will not allow a student of mine to sit out of because of incompetence and defeat!"

Kylo looked at Rey gently. "It may seem trifling, Rey, but dancing is unfortunately one of those essential skills you must learn to master in order to make yourself a good match."

Master Forel motioned to the two men, bouyed by Ren's support.

"You will partner with one of these gentlemen, and we will go over the steps once more!"

Kylo could have sworn that Hux's limp grew ridiculously exaggerated as he sat himself down in the nearest chair.

"Ahhh, yes. Unfortunately, Monsieur Forel, my leg feels a bit too stiff to perform the necessary jumps. Lord Ren, however, is quite an accomplished dance partner, if the number of times he has appeared on the ladies' dance cards in Almack's is any indication." He stretched out his long legs lazily, a sly smile widening across his face as he looked pointedly at Kylo.

"My apologies."

Kylo glanced at Hux, his friend's expression anything but apologetic.

"Ever the gentleman, Lord Hux." He offered his hand to Rey. "Shall we, Miss Kenobi?"

Master Forel gave a delighted clap as he led the pair to the center of the room. The dance master stood next to Kylo, with Rey facing the two men, as Forel led them in a cotillion.

Rey was paired initially with Master Forel, mimicking the introductions and honors of the dance. They advanced and retired twice as Kylo performed the identical steps to their side. Rey felt a flush of accomplishment as she managed that portion without treading on anyone's toes; indeed, it was much easier with Kylo present as it provided her with another source of direction. She moved through her figures, long balancing and turning by her right hand towards Kylo until they were eventually paired with one another. Kylo looked at her encouragingly as she began to fall into the rhythmic and lilting movements of the dance.

Forel was ecstatic with her progress, adding the more difficult rigadoon steps and star figures into the mix. Rey was surprised at the elegance and dexterity which belied Kylo's long limbs. His glides were slow and elegant, and his jumps lively while his upper body and arms remained appropriately graceful and strong. Under his partnership, her legs moved more quickly, her steps in synchronicity with his, her jumps more timely and fluid. She felt a delighted laugh leave her lips at the end, her body warm from the exertion and the giddiness at her success.

"Well done, Miss Kenobi!" Master Forel looked as if he had witnessed a miracle.

Kylo brought his lips to the back of her hand as he bowed, a twinkle in his eyes. "Thank you for the dance, Miss Kenobi."

Master Forel made a strangled sound as Kylo retreated.

"The French waltz," he announced, with an excited flourish.

Kylo frowned. He was well familiar with the waltz, having been taught its scandalous steps by Isabelle de Montespan several years ago. The dance was a particular favorite of Baron Neuman as well, although the majority of London society, including the patronesses at Almacks, deemed the required arm positions and intimate physical contact as indecent.

"Master Forel, I am not sure that the waltz is a necessary nor an appropriate dance for Miss Kenobi to learn."

Master Forel looked chagrined at Kylo's challenge to his judgment. Hux continued to watch the proceedings with increased interest and obvious amusement at Kylo's discomfort.

"Nonsense! The English are still hesitant to embrace it's beauty, while the rest of the European aristocracy have been performing it for well over forty years! Mark my words, your country will soon realize what the rest of the continent knows, and Miss Kenobi will be at an advantage for having learned it! Fifth position, s'il vous plait." He proceeded to position them in a Marche posture, leaving Kylo no room for argument. Rey's breath hitched as their left arms were placed on the back of each other's shoulders, their right arms curved in front. Kylo's hand was hot in her grasp, as she felt his body temporarily stiffen and then relax within the pose.

Master Forel led them from the March steps into fourth position and then into the actual waltz. Kylo and Rey's arm attitudes changed as the dance began, their right hands now holding one another as they turned face to face.

Rey was acutely aware of Kylo: the smell of the fabric of his woolen waistcoat, the smooth cut of his shirt against his chest, the roughness and strength in his hands as they began to move around the floor. They maintained eye contact with one another as the dance required, although his eyes seemed to bore more intently into hers as the dance progressed. The slow and graceful rotations became more heated as Kylo led them through the changes once again, placing his hand along her narrowed waist as they danced side by side, her left arm to his shoulder and their hips barely touching as she pirouetted against him.

She was flushed, the proximity of his body too great to bear and yet still not enough. Her silken dress rustled and flowed with each movement, smooth against her hot skin, her whirling skirt flowing out with each turning figure and trailing behind her movements as they continued to pick up speed. Rey tilted her head, as she watched his eyes darken, the rhythmic movements of his chest becoming more pronounced. The hand on her waist drew her closer, subtly enough so it wasn't visible through the voluminous fabric of her gown to observing eyes, but with just enough force to increase the contact of their bodies so she was left gasping for breath.

She was flying as they circled the room. She missed Master Forel's look of surprise as Kylo guided her into a more provocative pose, their legs nearly intertwined as his arm came to rest along her upper back. Rey rested her hands on his tall shoulders, the position and their height difference forcing him to lower his head slightly. An unruly lock of hair fell forward, their faces nearly touching, his lips close to her ears as his breath brushed against her cheek.

What a torment it is to see so much loveliness passing and repassing before us, and yet not dare to lay hold of it.

Her eyes flew open as she jerked out of their hold to look directly at him. His gaze never wavered from hers, and his expression remained unchanged.

Rey's thoughts roiled, uncertain as to whether Kylo had actually whispered those words, or whether they were the product of her desire and an overactive imagination. She felt the blood roar in her ears, leaving a residual heat in her belly and an ache in her heart as the dance concluded. She remained in his hold, unaware that the music had stopped, until Kylo slowly extricated himself from their intimate embrace.

The chattering of Master Forel in the background broke through her haze.

"...truly remarkable. Lord Ren, who knew that you were so adept at the slow and sauteuse forms of the waltz? Superbe!"

Rey held her hand to her cheek, staring at Kylo as Master Forel continued to compliment her advancements of the afternoon.

~O~~O~~O~~O~~O~~O~~O~

Later that night, in the privacy of her room, Rey recounted her lessons. She decided that she liked dancing, so very much, as she remembered the feel of Kylo's body against her own, secure and strong. She reimagined their steps as they gracefully turned, away from prying eyes, the edges of the floors and the shapes of their surroundings blurring and fading as they picked up speed. She relived the slow drop of his head towards hers as she rested her hands against his shoulders, the music quieting in the background, Kylo's voice murmuring softly as he quoted Goethe in her ear. And she dreamt of the gentleness and fullness of his lips as he moved closer still, descending upon her slowly, until he finally claimed her in a kiss.