Jorgan was nearly laughing now.
Not wanting to be a total brute, Thor tipped an invisible hat for her efforts, then strode onto the porch. In a jiff she was beside him, gripping his sleeve. Her fingers grazed his arm, and he really wished she would stop touching him. It was only making it harder to stand his ground. He pulled her hand away and moved aside even farther.
“Thor!” She whirled the other way to block him and even then, she was giggling. “This dance is only two weeks away. Unless you’ve told this young lady you’re not attending, you’ll have to learn a few steps.” Behind her, the late-afternoon sun said there was enough daylight left.
He should have walked home slower. And now that he was thinking of it, he had some pencils to hatchet in two and sharpen. He doubted that would impress Aven, though.
“Half an hour. Just half an hour for us to practice a few simple steps. Then you can be done, and I promise I won’t bother you again.”
Resolve faltered inside him. Thirty minutes? And he could be done with this? It was tempting to cave—to be rid of this once and for all—but Thor shook his head. He really didn’t want to dance.
Aven’s gaze lifted to his, and there lived in her eyes a final whisper of hope. Her mouth shaped one word. Just one word. “Please.”
Breathing out a sigh, he looked from her to the yard where Jorgan was heading off. Thor let out a whistle, and his brother turned.
Thor signed to Aven. Dance? I not know how. He looked to Jorgan for help, and his brother spoke for him.
Aven nodded compassionately. “That’s why I’ll show you.”
I not hear music. Did she not understand?
“He’s reminding you he can’t hear the music,” Jorgan said.
Aven stepped nearer to Thor, touching his arm again. He shot out a breath but didn’t pry her hand away this time. “Just half an hour. Will you please trust me? I promise I will help you through this.”
Thor walked with Aven across the farmyard and to the meadow just beyond. Out of sight of his brothers had been his only insistence. That meant there would be no one to translate, but he figured Aven would do most of the talking. He could write, of course, but his hands were about to be occupied with the Irish lass fairly skipping along at his side. Thor slowed when she did.
“Are you ready?”
He swallowed hard.
Aven stepped back and clasped her hands in front of her. “Some dances are quite quick and animated. A reel or a jig, etcetera. You’ll want to avoid those, I’d imagine.”
Quite.
“But perhaps a waltz. If you danced even one, ’twould be gentlemanly. Then, perhaps, you could simply pass the time talking with the young lady. I mean, writing . . . or however seems most comfortable with being . . . sociable with her.” She stumbled over the words, her eagerness fading some.
Was she jealous by that idea? Thor doubted it, but there was something about her just now. It wasn’t as if this other young lady had a liking for him. She’d only pulled his name from a drawing basket for a fund-raiser. Yet Aven wouldn’t be attending. The unhappy thought dissipated when she took his right hand and pressed it to the curve of her waist.
Her eyes lifted to his and she gave a gentle smile.
His gaze filtered across the vast meadow. Not a soul in sight. That was for the best. There didn’t need to be an audience for this—the first time he ever had a young lady in his touch. Aside from when he’d dragged Aven away from that shed, he’d never had his hands on a woman in any way. Twenty-eight was awful late to just be starting, but it’s what it was. He released a slow breath.
Aven fitted her right hand in the crook of his left. Gently, she raised their arms some. “This is the stance. Does it feel comfortable?” So at ease was she that he tried to appear the same.
His smallest finger had a mind of its own, though, grazing against her hip. He hoped she didn’t notice. When she patted his shoulder, he shifted all focus back to her face.
“ ’Twill help if you’re paying attention.”
He flashed her a stern look. If he was paying any more attention, he was going to pass out.
“This dance counts by three.” Her guidance was gentle, her watch of him even more so. “I’ll count as we do each step. We’ll go nice and slow so you can get the idea. To begin, you’ll step forward with your left foot, then to the side with your right. We’ll bring our feet together.”
When she stepped forward with her left, he must have moved back with the wrong foot because she landed on his boot. They righted themselves and tried again. The next attempt went better. When she meant him to move his left foot, she tapped his shoulder. When he was to step with the other, she squeezed his right hand. That helped more than she might have realized.
“That’s perfect. We’re making a square, so now we’ll both go to your left and bring our feet together.”
He followed her without incident and he could see how delighted she was.
“Look at you. Already a dancer.”
That was being generous.
As Aven spoke, “One, two, three . . . one, two, three . . .” He followed in his mind, forward—side—together. Back—side—together.
More than a few times he made a mistake, but the instances grew further apart until they were making an invisible square together.
Aven looked breathless by the time she finally stilled them. “You will do better at this than you realize. The only thing we need to focus on next is for you to learn how to lead.”
What?
“A help will be for you to watch the other couples. That will guide you in the tempo of the music. If you follow the flow of the room, I believe you could do it, Thor.” Her hand shifted inside his. “Now. You step strongly forward and be firm with it. You’re to lead. Step forward with surety so the only choice I have is to step back.”
He did. And it felt good to guide her.
She smiled. “Well done. Now to the side . . .”
Trying to remember the steps, he pressed her in the direction he wished her to go. Aven was fluid to his every movement. She made it look easy, and even though he couldn’t have been doing this full and proper, she followed him. Not an ounce of resistance as he pressed her back . . . led her to the side.
“Now I’m going to turn under your arm.”
She was gonna what?
Aven lifted his hand and ducked beneath his arm. She kept turning until she was facing him again. Thor halted, watching her.
“No. You cannot stop. You keep waltzing while I turn.”
This was getting too complicated. His face must have shown as much.
Her expression was soft. “Trust me. ’Tis quite simple. All you do is keep stepping around inside the box, and when you want me to turn, you raise your arm. You will find that most men will turn their partner every few squares. Dance is communication without words. Think of it as a straightforward direction. Raise your arm if you want your partner to turn . . . and she will. Truly, ’tis more simple than complicated.” Her brown eyes peered up to his. “You’re the one leading, and no words will be necessary.”
They danced around the invisible box a few more times, and wanting to please her, Thor raised his arm. Loosening her grip on his hand, Aven beamed as she spun beneath it. He’d never seen her so happy. He was pretty sure he did his next step wrong, but she wasn’t looking. After finishing her rotation, she slid right into place and they traveled another square. Finally she slowed them. Or was it his doing?
He didn’t want to let go, but he did.
Aven laced her fingers together in front of her skirt. “You’ve got it now, Thor. A good thing your partner is already chosen. A line would form if the lassies had their pick.” She smiled, and to his surprise, it didn’t seem like she was teasing.
Sensing the lesson at an end, Thor dipped his head, then touched his fingertips to his lips, and lowered his hand in the sign for thank you.
TWENTY-THREE