Ada’s head shot up her eyes wide with surprise.
“Francois, what a surprise.” She stood quickly and raced around the desk, coming to his side. “Are you all right?”
No, he felt like a fool…damn it, he missed the rut in the floorboard.
“No, truly, I am fine.” He took the cane back, fighting the heat that started to crawl to his cheeks as embarrassment flooded him.
But she didn’t seem to see his stupidity and looked concerned. “The rally was a lot to take on. You did so well, despite the verbal mauling it did to your way of life. I’m sorry it affected you so harshly.”
She was utterly amazing, to now make such a statement. He snorted. “My dear, you knew that would happen, and if I recall correctly, it was exactly what you wanted.”
She opened her mouth but he put his fingers over her pretty parted lips, the touch of the soft petal skin branding him like fire. “It is fine. Merci, ma chère, I will live.” He paused, the grin he thought he should hide burst through. “And now, you owe me a dance.”
The pressure of his fingers against her lips had surprised her, the tingle that raced through her made her thoughts swirl, but she did catch the end of it. She stepped back, out of his reach, her brows furrowing.
“A dance? You must have a fever.”
His devilish smile only broadened. “No.”
She inhaled deep. What was he up to? She had walked back to the edge of the desk, turned and leaned back on the top edge and gave him a questioning stare.
“We barely made it out of there without you stumbling. And you had your cane. Perhaps you might tell me how you’ll dance? Because leaning on a lady is not considered polite.”
“Well, I thought, perhaps we can practice.”
“Practice? When? Here? Now?”
Still using the cane, he stepped closer. “That’s a lot of questions, doctor. I do think here and now. What else are you doing that would prevent you from helping your patient?”
He was so close, she couldn’t breathe. What was it with this man, this Southerner, the enemy in more ways than one, that could make nerves jump? What was she doing? She wanted to shout she was writing to the love in her life, but even now, Will’s jabs at her about Rich’s intentions jabbered in her mind. The man before her interrupted her thoughts, made her heart flutter and almost forget about what she was doing.
Swallowing hard, she answered, “Nothing that cannot be accomplished later.”
His gaze sparkled and he offered her his free hand, a look of victory on his face. As she slipped her hand into his grasp, she couldn’t help but snort.
“We have no music.”
He managed to spin her in front of him. “Are you sure? I can hear a tune in my head.”
That made her openly giggle. “Really? Then you’ll have to lead me the way.”
He tossed the cane onto the settee and put his left hand on her waist, the other remained holding her tight as he took a step to the left. The dance was a slow waltz, and on the carpeted area near the settee, she was shocked that he could lead her without making them tumble. His sapphire blue gaze never left hers, the grin though faded as the steps continued. He turned her once, and at the end of it, his fingers tightened on her, making her worried he’d fall but he didn’t.
“You do well for a man who needs a cane.” She prayed he’d take the compliment warmly.
“It’s a project I have a drive to achieve,” he replied, turning her again, though a bit more slowly. This time, he double stepped, fighting to stay upright. She tensed, wrapping her fingers around his hand to hopefully help him.
By the end of the noiseless dance, he stopped, bowing to her curtsy, breathing hard.
“Are you all right? You didn’t hurt yourself?”
He looked up and gave her a wink. “Better I’ve done this time than without a partner.”
“Perhaps you should sit and let me take a look—”
“No! I mean,” he shouted, before correcting his tone. He inhaled deeply and gave her another debonair smile. “Shall we go again?”
“Francois, please. I don’t want you to be worn out.”
“I am fine, ma chère. Please.”
She had to agree that he had pulled the dance off. Slowly, but completely, he had waltzed with her. Did she have the patience to do it again without fretting the whole time he’d make himself entirely lame? But her body betrayed her as she put her hand back in his grasp. Heaven help them both!
Francois stood somewhat precariously. His ankle throbbed, though he discovered if he shifted his weight off it and centered more on the ball of his foot, to the side, he could manage relatively fine. Enough to sway to a slow dance. He liked the waltz, as it always let him be closer to the lady but he had to manage not getting too close, or he’d have a mother to answer to. Inwardly, he chuckled. There was no mother here to interfere.
Ada was light on her feet, which was a pleasant surprise. This woman confused him. She was a doctor, and from his own experience, with excellent skills. She was intelligent yet naïve, in thinking freeing all the slaves would eliminate slavery’s hook on the land. Or that it was reasonable for owners, like his family, to simply let them all free, even give them a starting dowry, as it were, on marriage to a new life as a freedman. And what would the South do for workers? Had the abolitionists thought that far? Or
