Liam guided Rose back to the center of the dance floor just as a rousing waltz began. With a few practiced movements, he took hold of her hand and waist in the traditional style and began an elegant three-step with expert precision.
He had assumed Rose would have no trouble falling into step with him, and he was right. Even saddled with her apparent mixture of apprehension and surprise, her waltz was perfect. Her steps, posture, and fluidity all graceful and measured. She'd likely had professional training, and it showed.
“You can dance!” she blurted. “Dance properly!”
Her exclamation was both endearing and unladylike, and Liam's lips quirked in a smile.
“Surprised, are ya?”
“Well...yes,” she admitted. “You have no time for reading, for leisure, for concerts, or the theatre. Your idea of a hobby is drinking whiskey or shooting guns. Therefore, yes, I'm surprised.”
Liam nodded. Her answer was amusing. “Good. Glad I can surprise ya.” He released her waist, spun her in a full circle, then reclaimed his hold on her. “The hosts should share a dance, don't ya think? At least for the guests' sake?”
“They should, yes. It's proper,” she granted, her tone cautious. “You're smiling. Is that for the guests' sake, as well? Or to lure me into a false sense of security so that I'm that much more confounded when your tongue lashing begins?”
“Tongue lashing?” Liam repeated. His chin jerked up and to the side in a silent chortle. “Ya gotta choose your words with more care around me, Rose.”
“You don't seem angry,” she noted.
“Should I be?”
“I assumed you would be, yes.”
“What gave ya that idea?”
“Well, I…” She trailed off for a few seconds, her pretty mouth set in a frown. “I very well may have cost us the opportunity to secure a donation from Mr. Pembrook when I…”
“When ya so eloquently told him to go fuck himself?”
Rose pulled a face. “Not the words I would choose, but yes.”
Liam guided her around in a wide arc, spinning her elegantly before drawing her back to him. His eyes met hers. “D'ya regret what ya said to him?”
Her expression was resolute. “Not a word.”
“Good,” Liam stated. “The haughty sot needed to be knocked down a peg. His pretentious ass of a mate Belvedere, as well.” He guided her back a few measures, pivoted to the left, and continued without breaking stride. Rose followed his every cue and movement without the slightest hesitation.
“You think so?” she asked, her eyes widening even as she dipped into a pivot.
“I do, aye,” he told her. “And they're lucky it was you that heard them speak that way to Elijah rather than Audrey. Had she been within earshot, they'd be leavin' tonight's soirée without all their teeth.”
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ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛᴇꜱꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴀᴄᴋᴇᴛᴇᴇʀ
Ficção Histórica☆ ᴡᴀᴛᴛʏꜱ 2024 SHORTLISTER!! ☆ A tragic misunderstanding. A murder. A secret. An unlikely partnership. A spirited countess and an enterprising racketeer. ~~~ Manchester, England. May 1925. The Roarin' 20s. An era of glamor, decadent parties, jazz mus...