"Dad once said that he'd be the last guy Mom ever danced with,
but he was wrong.
We had a Mother-Son dance on my wedding day."
Sitting in Anthony's office, I remained on the sofa with his copy of the Sorrows of Young Werther open on my lap. Despite the book being used, I could tell he'd been reading it by how creased the pages were. For some reason that made me happy- really happy. I enjoyed seeing that he liked the gift I gave him; it should be that way…. since I really loved my bike.
Flipping the page, I jumped a little at the sound of a door suddenly closing. Thinking it was a servant, I went back to my reading, but froze again when the office door cracked open. I looked to see Anthony come inside, still in his fancy-dancy suit and everything. My eyes grew in mild alarm- not in a bad way, I just hadn't expected them home so soon.
"Anthony? You're back already?" Closing the book and setting it down, I got up off the sofa. He returned my gaze, not seeming particularly elated. "Already? I was gone for three hours." I blinked to the clock over across the room. Eight o'clock. What'da know? He's right. But still, it's only eight? I thought Daphne told me midnight, or was it Edwina? I obviously wasn't paying that much attention, but I knew it wasn't eight they said- whoever it was.
Anthony let out a tired, slightly frustrated huff, yanking off his tie and dropping it down onto his desk; I don't think he'd had the best of evenings. "Damn tie…." He muttered under his breath sharply. "H-How was the ball?" I ventured to ask, though felt like I shouldn't. He shot me a glare confirming my suspicion. "Long, and dreadfully muggy; they haven't installed proper air conditioning yet. And by the way, you could have told me you weren't attending BEFORE my brothers and I left for the conservatory earlier this afternoon."
My gaze widened even more. "But I thought…? Edwina didn't tell you?" "Evidently not! I took the liberty of reserving a seat and a dance card for you. Imagine my surprise when I'm told that you'd rather stay home tonight." "I'm sorry; I thought she would have told you. I hate balls and avoid them whenever possible," I explained and Anthony huffed completely unimpressed again, rolling his eyes. "You may have the choice to avoid them, but when the Bridgerton matriarch decides that she wants to attend a gala, it's only natural that the viscount goes with her. Not all of us can shirk our responsibilities, Miss Sharma," he scolded, causing to blink back at him curiously. That clever, cheeky smile curled organically across my lips; my brain getting the teasing, mocking streak back again.
"Oh, I get it. So you were hoping I'd be there? Hmmmmm? Is that why you're upset?" "N-No! I-I mean, no. Of course not! I'm "upset" because you didn't have the common courtesy to inform me that you'd not be attending in the first place. Had I known that I would have re-considered going myself," he admitted annoyedly. My eyes widened, because of course they did. "You would have? But you just said that it's your responsibility to go if your mom wants to go." This had the desired effect of getting under his skin, which I saw in the monstrous scowl he next gave me. "Can't I take one night off from being a "viscount"? Believe it or not, you're not the only one who detests balls and those utterly dull, mind-numbing parties. I'll go on occasion for the sake of my family, but just once I'd like a night off." "Well judging by the fact you came home several hours before everyone else, I'd say you snuck away just fine," I grinned and side-eyed me.
After staring at one another a moment, the endearing smile-smirk of his returned in full force. He crossed his arms, leaning back on his desk a little. "Maybe it's a good thing you didn't come tonight. You'd trod on every man's feet." "Excuse me but I'm an excellent dancer! Daddy used to say I was so graceful, it was like my feet didn't touch the ground." "Pfft, yeah, back when you were thirteen. Adult bodies move differently; it takes real poise and skill to sway gracefully at our age," his smirk intensified. I stood up straight, meeting his eyes right on. "Are you calling me old?" "No, I'm calling you untalented and out of practice," he said with such a mocking tone. My own smirk back at him intensified.
"Untalented, no, but out of practice I'll give you. For your information I haven't danced in years. I've had better calls upon my time." "Heh, what? No man ever ask you to dance before? I find that hard to believe," his compliment was hidden in his insult. I pretended to ignore it, suppressing my smile. "That's no business of yours, now is it, "Lord Bridgerton"?" I teased, and he chuckled to himself, shaking his head before standing upright as well. His arms were still folded, though less deliberately now.
"You want to know the real reason I wanted you to come with us tonight? I wanted to see how badly you could mess up on the dance floor. I'd dance with you myself, to save face." "Shouldn't you be dancing with my sister?" My eyebrow raised, and he took a step towards me. "Oh I did, but as your future brother-in-law it's only right that I look out for your best interests too, Kate. I had wanted to dance with you, if only to see what other men were getting themselves into….. dancing with you."
I gulped, and not in a bad way. My fingers curled into fists, my knees began to quiver a bit. He took yet another step towards me. His stare fixed onto me so single-mindedly, so intently….. Hardly any man had looked at me that way before. My heart was beating so fast, I feared I might pass out.
Anthony's arm began to stretch out in front of him in my direction. "But perhaps you're the type who prefers to dance in private…..?" "That's how I would dance…. If I did," I answered back, my voice growing smaller. He smiled; truly smiled now. "You've been to balls before with your sister, and seen so many boys and girls in each other's arms. You never thought you'd be….. similarly occupied?" He asked and I gulped again, huddling both my arms up in front of my chest…. My heart. One more step nearer to me he took…..
His luscious lips parted a sliver. "Maybe this is the time for you to get back in practice, safe in here with me…. while nobody's watching." "Y-You want to dance with me?" My voice was shaky. His smile…. Oh how it grew as his head lowered. "For your benefit- purely." "Purely…." I repeated, but I don't know why. He stretched out his hand for me but I hesitated, keeping my hands clinging up into my pounding, over-heated chest. This was too much for me…
Unconsciously my head gave a reluctant shake, making Anthony's grin fade somewhat. "I-I… I can't," I half-heartedly refused. "Why not? This is for your practice." "I-It's not that. The reason I've never danced with another man before is because…" I couldn't finish my sentence here. "Because what?" Anthony prodded and I gazed downward suddenly solemn. "Because the last man I danced with was my father. It feels like I'm betraying him somehow…. Like I'm letting him be replaced if I danced with another guy," I finally admitted in honesty.
The viscount watched me in a bit of awe momentarily before relaxing his shoulders and smiling lightly again. "Is that all? That's ridiculous." "It's not ridiculous! Daddy did everything for us. He loved us like no other," I immediately retorted, but he gently shook his head, taking yet another step….. One step closer.
"Wasn't it you who said that your dad wanted you to be happy and enjoy the little things in life?" "Yes?" "And wouldn't your dad want you to do what does make you happy now?" "Well yes…" "Heh, and your dad….. Would he hate me?" Anthony chuckled and I blinked to him astonished. "No, of course not! I think he'd really like you…. heh, once he got to know you," I had to playful tack on, to which he chuckled once more. "So what's the problem then? If your dad would approve of me, and dancing makes you happy, then what reason would he have to object? That doesn't sound like something he'd do." I had to concede that Anthony had a point. Still….. I couldn't help but lower my head again, still unsure.
"I don't know… I promised myself that the next man I dance which has to be really special…. Quite exceptional…" He laughed. "Well that sounds like me; I think I fit the bill." "You do," this was a half-truth, half-mocking reply….. but mostly truth, which I think Anthony detected. Grinning softly, he pulled out his phone and unlocked the screen. I watched as he opened up Spotify and selected a song. Before it began he glanced to me from over his shoulder, giving me the most tender of gazes. "If you're so worried about it, I'll be the first and last man you ever dance with- besides your dad. You'll never have to fret again- I'll be your last." "I think Daddy would be pleased with that," I agreed again with a head nod. Anthony smiled and pressed play. Then he came back to me, reaching his hand out to take mine. "Come on," he encouraged as my trembling hand came up to grasp his.
The song was one you'd probably never heard before but is absolutely beautiful and one of my favourite love songs- one they never played at those awful balls. It's a French song, and an old one at that; I mean OLD. It's Lucienne Boyer's "Parlez-moi d'Amour". They don't make music like this anymore. It's a pre-WWI, 1930s piece, and it's one of the most romantic things I've ever heard. I'd recommend listening to it if you can, and while you do, imagine Anthony and I dancing to it right here in the middle of his office.
Well, we weren't really dancing but rather swaying gently back and forth and side to side. We began like your traditional waltz, but soon moved into a groove of our own; nothing like what you'd see at one of those "dances" Edwina dragged me to. No, this was much slower….. and passionate.
Not even a minute in and Anthony was lowering his head in toward my shoulder. I stepped in close to his chest, resting my chin on the side of his shoulder. It's like we were cradling each other while slowly twirling instead of dancing in any ordinary sense of the word. It felt like both an eternity and an instant. I was floating and sinking; drying of thirst and drowning all at once…. In all the best ways. I'd never, ever experienced any emotions like this before, and I was just so extremely happy. I'm sure Anthony was too… I know without a shadow of a doubt that he was. Neither of us said a word, continuing to turn in a circular motion like that for god knows how long. But however long it was, it wasn't long enough. We both jumped freezing in place at the bang of the front door opening and a clambering of voices and shoes entering the house.
I recognized some of them to be Violet, Edwina, and Daphne. "Did he say why he left so early?!" That's Violet's voice. "He just said he had to come home early," that's Daphne. "I don't see why we couldn't have stayed longer. I told Anthony I'd call him when we left later," I was a bit surprised by Edwina's harsh tone. Neither of us dared move a muscle, realizing we had no time when footsteps rapidly hurried towards the hallway his office was in. "Maybe he's in his study. I'll go check," Daphne could be heard shouting back to her mom. I braced for the worst as the door flew open to reveal Anthony and I there in a very….. compromising position. Daphne saw us, froze, and then hastily shut the door. We could hear her footsteps darting back down the hallway again. "He's not in there! He must have gone to bed already!"
"Well then stop shouting! You'll wake him up!"
