Husband Wanted (HC #1)

15: A Sway in the Ballroom

"You'll survive a moment with the mothers," she whispered, "but I'll not survive without a glass of water."

She found a pitcher and a butler by the punches, accepting a glass with a nod of thanks. A cursory look told her there was no whiskey to be found here, and she wondered briefly where her other two brothers had disappeared to. She turned to look, not too eager to find them in case they also wanted to use her as a shield against young, single women. Instead she found John.

"Oh, hello!" She startled slightly, splashing water onto her gloves.

He just smiled at her. "Hello."

Beth took a quick sip to try and settle her pulse; for some reason it was thumping faster than when she'd been dancing. She stilled as she considered what the dancing might have done to her perfectly styled locks, and a nervous hand drifted to her forehead to check for stray hairs.

Her mouth started moving of its own accord. "I do hope we haven't abandoned you this evening. My brothers seem determined to keep potential wives at bay."

John chuckled and shook his head. "No, they've been very good." He adjusted himself on his crutch, leaning forward slightly. The secretive smirk on his face drew Beth in. "Though perhaps it would have been wise to focus less on physically getting me here and more on what to say when we did; there's not a single guest here willing to accept 'Lord John' as an entire introduction."

Beth couldn't help a spurt of laughter, and she pressed a hand to her lips. "What have you been saying?"

"Thankfully it's not up to me – I just look to one of your brothers and await their response. Thus far I've been an old friend from school, a second cousin on your mother's side, and I think Bart made some comment about 'just someone the storm blew in'."

She giggled, imagining Simon and Bart having to improvise the stories. She couldn't tell if John had been lucky or not; Matthew would have been perfect for the job, devising some intricate tale on the spot for sure, but Vincent... well, perhaps his audience wouldn't have bothered to wait around for the story and they could solve the problem that way.

"I think I would have liked to see that," she said, laying a hand on his arm.

The sudden contact jolted her, and she pulled away abruptly, suddenly aware of how close they were in the packed ballroom. A quick glance around the room told her that no one had noticed them, and she swallowed heavily, turning to quickly pass her glass back to the footman.

"We should be getting back..." she began, hands clasped tightly in front of her to prevent any further mistakes.

John spoke over her, his words almost tumbling out. "Will you dance with me?"

"Yes." Beth froze, suddenly aware she'd spoken. A blush filled her cheeks, deepening when John grinned at her. "I mean..." she gestured at his injury. "Your leg?" She couldn't quite find enough words for a question, but it was implied.

As if the orchestra was listening, the music transitioned to a slow waltz. Behind them, couples emerged onto the dance floor to partake in the almost-too-intimate dance.

John shrugged one shoulder. "Not a dance then. Perhaps a 'sway'?"

Beth's body answered before her mind again, and she found herself nodding. He switched sides with her, offering the arm not supporting his weight, and together they shuffled through the crowd. Many had taken the opportunity to refresh themselves with food, drink, or rest, thankfully leaving the audience watching the dancers quite slim. A part of Beth's brain told her that people would stare, and that perhaps dancing with a complete stranger in front of most of all she knew wasn't the smartest of ideas, but that part of her brain wasn't making decisions at that moment.