“I shall probably find myself in Newgate for somehow abetting you in whatever scheme you’re involved in,” she continued, oblivious to Grif’s admiration.
Her bodice, he noted happily, was suitably draped in sheer silk, and cinched so low that her breasts were luscious mounds of creamy flesh, waiting to be freed.
“I must have quite lost my mind to have come here,” she said, smoothing her hair, then looked at Grif.
He smiled. Her eyes narrowed in an expression he knew quite well in spite of their brief association, and he instantly threw up his hands. “I’m admiring yer good work, lass! Ye’ve taken yer instruction well.”
Her expression softened a bit as she looked down at her gown and reached behind to shake out the train. “Really? Do you like it?”
Like it? He was tempted to lick it off her body. “It is indeed quite lovely,” he said in all honesty.
She smiled demurely, clasped her hands behind her back. “Thank you,” she said, blushing a little. “I thought… well, given what you said yesterday, I thought…” Her voice trailed off and she shrugged. “So? Shall we carry on with the lesson?” she asked.
Grif held out his arm to her. “Aye. Let’s be done with it.”
Anna looked at his arm. “You… don’t intend more dancing without music, do you?”
As appealing as that sounded, he shook his head. “Today ye learn to speak with a man.”
“Speak with him?” she exclaimed. “Oh, I can well imagine! Speak only when spoken to, and never speak too much, for women should leave the thinking to me. Something like that, I suppose?”
“As usual, ye are quite wrong. I should like to see ye laugh. And smile. There’s naugh’ more appealing to a man than a woman’s bonny smile,” he said, and indicated she should take his arm.
“I smile!” she insisted. “And I laugh when there is something clever or amusing!”
“Ye donna smile or laugh nearly enough in the company of men.”
“I do!” she argued, her brows dipping into a frown.
“No,” he argued pleasantly. “On me word, ye have a tendency to be the most humorless woman about. Always frowning, always seeking a way to deride—”
“That isn’t true!” she protested, putting her hands to her hips.
Grif raised one brow, asked calmly, “Did ye no’ make yer deal with the devil, Anna? I am honoring this end of it… will ye no’ honor yours?”
She glared at him. Bit her lip. “Blast it,” she muttered beneath her breath.
“Come, then,” he said, reveling in her defeat. “Pretend we’re having a walkabout.”
Anna sighed skeptically, put her hand on his arm, and didn’t flinch when he covered it with his hand. “Where shall we walkabout?” she asked, sighing impatiently.
“Here,” he said, and began to stroll, walking the length of the room. “Imagine ye are strolling with the object of yer great esteem, Mr. Rake Lockhart—”
“Drake.”
“Drake, Rake… ’tis all the same to me. Imagine he has ye on his arm. ’Tis a lovely spring day, without a hint of rain. There are flowers here and there. And he says, because he wishes to impress ye, ‘Miss Addison, ye look as fresh and green as a daisy,’” Grif said, using an effeminate voice. “What do ye say?”
She rolled her eyes. “Oh, I don’t know… perhaps something about daisies not being green, but white and yellow?”
“Mo chreach, ye are a thick student! A man likes to know that his efforts to compliment ye are appreciated!”
“But that compliment makes not the least bit of sense.”
“Especially if it makes no sense. Most men are no’, by their nature, poets.”
“All right…I suppose I should say, ‘Thank you kindly, sir.’”
“Good,” he said, smiling warmly. “But have ye more? Perhaps a wee bit of a smile?” he asked, nudging her with his shoulder.
She smiled. A wee bit of a smile, to be sure, but a smile all the same.
“And can ye no’ look me in me eyes?” Grif pressed her.
With a snort, she turned her face up to his, looked him squarely in the eyes, and smiled charmingly, all white teeth and coral lips.
Better still, Grif saw something flicker behind those coppery orbs, and grinned at her. “Excellent. Perhaps ye might practice this smile at night, before ye sleep. Corners of yer mouth up, corners down, and then repeat.”
What was that? A hint of a genuine smile?
“Shall we try it again?” he asked pleasantly.
Anna nodded.
“Very well.” He made a show of drawing a deep breath. “Will ye look at the glorious day about us, Miss Addison? And it is made infinitely brighter by yer beauty.”
Anna smiled, nodded demurely. “Thank you kindly, sir.”
“Aye, but ye look as bonny as a purple moon, ye do.”
She glanced at him from the corner of her eye.
He grinned, daring her to argue his metaphor.
“Why, Mr. Lockhart, I do not believe kinder words were ever spoken!” she said, and laughed gaily.
She was perfect in that moment—her smile beautiful, her laugh beautiful—and Grif wondered where this Anna had been hiding. “Oh my, I’m afraid you really have gone round the bend!” she cried gleefully.