“Don’t worry. I’ll show you.”
She placed her hand in his, and he pulled her to her feet. Grabbing her sewing as it slipped from her lap, she laid it on the chair.
“Gabe, I can’t. We really shouldn’t.” Her face grew hot.
But he was smirking, pulling her toward the middle of the floor. He took her other hand, and with their arms tucked to their waists, holding hands side by side, he stepped in a circle. Sophie followed his lead, her eyes captured by his.
They stepped in time to the lively music, then Gabe reversed their direction by pulling her arm over her head and spinning her around. Sophie let her limbs stay loose as she tried to anticipate his next move. They moved fluidly over the floor, as if they had planned every step. She concentrated on looking him in the eye and following his lead. Her thin leather shoes glided over the smooth wood floor. What did the Seven think of the intimate way Gabe was looking at her? Her face burned, but she was afraid to look away from him.
Soon it would become obvious that she had no idea what she was doing and did not know how to dance. But Gabe continued to spin her around the floor. He made her feel pretty, like she truly was the daughter of a duke.
Questions swirled inside her head the way her skirt was swirling around her ankles, but she smiled at Gabe anyway. It was impossible not to.
The music stopped. Gabe and Sophie stopped a few moments later. They both looked over at Siggy, who gave them a sheepish glance before looking at Bartel.
Bartel stood, his arms folded underneath his robe, and stared at them from beneath lowered brows. He did not look happy.
Silence reigned. Sophie made two attempts to swallow the lump in her throat.
“Men,” Bartel said, glancing around the room, “it is time for bed. Gabe and Sophie need to talk.”
What was Bartel implying? Gabe did not look happy either. His expression mirrored the one on Bartel’s face. She tried to pull her hand free of Gabe’s, but he held on and squeezed, as if to reassure her.
The rest of the seven men were already hurrying up the stairs. When they were gone, Gabe said, “Thank you for giving us a few moments of privacy, Bartel.”
“You know why I’m giving you this time. You and Sophie must talk, to ask the hard questions and be honest with each other. I will be back in a few minutes.”
Without another word, he turned and stumped out of the room with his slightly lame gait.
Ask the hard questions? Be honest with each other? Suddenly the room seemed devoid of air.
Gabe turned to her, taking her other hand and bringing them both to his lips, looking as though he was still struggling to replace his scowl with a happier expression. “Come, we’ll sit.” He led her back to her chair. She set aside her sewing while he pulled another chair up next to hers.
“Bartel wanted to know what my intentions were toward you, Sophie.” His thumb caressed her knuckles in a way that sent shivers across her shoulders. She tried to concentrate on his words. What would he say? That he loved Brittola more than her? That he couldn’t betray his brother?
“I told him my intention is to marry you, as soon as possible, if you will have me.”
His words stopped her breath as she gazed into the overwhelming intensity of his eyes.
“Will you marry me, Sophie? Give up the rank and status and wealth of marrying Valten, a man who will someday be a duke?”
She opened her mouth to say yes, but he pressed a finger over her lips.
“Don’t say anything yet. I have to get this all out.” He paused, as though forgetting what he was about to say as he stared at her lips. “I love you, Sophie. Bartel thinks I should unselfishly let you marry my brother, that I’m wrong to try to break the betrothal. Perhaps I am wrong. I know I’m selfish. I want you for myself. Say you love me. That you don’t want my brother and don’t care about his money and power and prestige.”
His tone was fierce, but by the time he finished, his brown eyes were pleading. Before she could answer him, he grabbed her shoulders and drew her to him, kissing her. Sophie’s arms went around his waist, almost by themselves. His kisses made the whole world disappear until she felt as though she’d stepped into a cocoon of warmth and love.
He loved her. He wanted to marry her. She was surely dreaming.
His lips moved to her cheek. She couldn’t bear any more happiness or pleasure, it was too wonderful. Sophie buried her face in his shoulder.
“I love you, Gabe. I love you so much.”
“If I find a way to break our betrothals, do you truly want to marry me?”
“Oh yes.”