CHAPTER NINETEEN: The end of the night

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With her hand holding on to William's elbow, she walked to the ballroom as a new song just started.

"The quadrille," she whispered to him. "My favourite."

He smiled at her and said: "I know. You have told me many times before."

She smiled at him, finding it amazing that he remembered such a small fact. But it also made her heart ache a little for what they had – and what they could not have anymore.

They joined another couple and stood in a square, waiting for the right note that started the dance.

The quadrille was not an intimate dance, which Elizabeth was glad for. Mostly she would dance with the same man, but she would also hold hands with the other. There were also too many people in the square to feel intimate.

But twas her favourite, for it had the most movement. A waltz was merely turning and smiling, but a quadrille had partner changes, diverting positions and a lot of different steps. You had to think while dancing a quadrille, yet it was so relaxing.

She gave William a smile, before the dance started and everyone started moving. The dance was amazing, for it made everyone happy and exhausted. There was a lot of jumping and moving, then resting. Many gowns touched each other and the space seemed small, but the ladies liked crowds and the cheerful mood.

"I see you have not lost your touch," William whispered as he held her with his hand around her waist and they jumped in the circle.

"Neither have you," she said, "even though we have not rehearsed this dance."

William gave her a mischievous smile. "If I make a mistake, you will have to save me."

Elizabeth was lucky that at that moment, she had to turn away from him and face the other lord, for she did not know how to react to that. His words were too intimate and she should not like them – but she did.

She turned the circle, meeting every dancer in theirs, before she returned with William and gave him her best smile. It made her wonder if she should. Did it not give him the feeling that she wanted to be this intimate with him? Of course, she wanted to, but she should not. And if her smiles encouraged him to become more intimate, then she should no longer do it. Yet it came without thinking, like a reflex.

Just like the feeling she got in her tummy every time he gave her one of his handsome smiles.

She had thought the quadrille was not an intimate dance, but every glance she shared with him felt very intimate. For a moment after every smile she forgot they were not alone. With every touch of his hand, she had to remind herself that she should not stand too close. And with every heart beat that skipped, she had to force herself to think of something else entirely before fantasies started filling her mind.

Finally, after what felt like too long, the dance ended. They curtsied and bowed to every person in the circle before the square fell apart and most people walked toward the refreshment table. As different people started to fill the ballroom for the next dance, William lead Elizabeth away from the centre.

"Would you like to go somewhere calmer?" William asked.

Like a reflex, Elizabeth nodded and let William lead her out the ballroom, through the hallway and in the library. She had been to this library before, but not while a ball was going on. It felt like a forbidden room, for if people would enter, they would assume they were lovers. Of course, there was nothing that indicated they were – as it should – but people liked rumours about secret love.

"Are you excited for the first play?" Elizabeth asked as the room grew quiet and she wondered why William had taken her here.

He shrugged as he walked closer to her. "I am too frightened about my book to be excited about the play."

"Your book will be good," she said while taking a few steps backward. He was coming too close to her and he ought not to.

"I hope so," he said while he kept stepping toward her. "Once lord Byron finds it good, I shall have more faith in it."

Elizabeth wanted to take another step back, but the wall prevented her from doing so. As he continued coming closer to her and she found no way out, she asked: "William, what are you doing?"

"Merely walking," he answered silently, like he did not believe his own words.

"I believe you should not," she managed to say. He came closer and closer, and she could not look away from him anymore. Her heart skipped a beat again, but she could not find the strength to think of anything else to make it beat normally again. She was trapped in his eyes.

"I believe the same." But while he said it, he did not change anything. He kept moving closer until his hands were on her shoulders and his chest was against hers. Just like her, he seemed to be locked in her proximity.

While his legs stopped walking, his head moved forward until his lips touched hers. Like it was instinct, her hands moved up to his head and she pulled him closer, wanting to fully enjoy him. His hands caressed her hair while his hips pushed against hers, trapping her between him and the wall. If not for the darn dress, she would wrap her legs around him and be as close to him as she could.

His lips moved away from hers to take a breath, then dove back in, kissing every inch of skin on her face until he found her lips again. She opened her mouth, allowing his tongue to dance with hers. Her tummy felt funny and her heart skipped multiple beats, but she did not bother. She enjoyed the moment, and the fear of her heart stopping, felt minor and unimportant.

She wanted him. His lips on hers, his chest against hers, his hips pushing hers and his tongue touching hers. His moans were because of her and her moans because of him. She felt entangled with him, yet knew exactly where his body started and her stopped. She felt her body heat up where he touched her and his enthusiasm grow when she touched him.

They were perfect to please each other, yet they had to take the joy away. She should not do this. She could not fall for a man she did not trust. She could not leave her mended heart in his unsteady hands, but she did not have the strength to take it back and put it safely in her chest.

She loved this man, there was no denying that. But there was also no denying that this was a bad match. He did not trust her and she did not trust him. Then why did they long for each other? Why did they need each other? Why could she forget all her doubts about him once his lips touch hers?

With a moan of dislike, she pushed him away from her. She was certain he could keep his body against hers, for he was stronger, yet he did not. And it made her not doubt that he knew too how bad this was, how easy it was for them to give in to something they should not want.

They both knew they could never become what they used to be.

She waited for her breathing to slow down while refusing to look at him. If she did, all the strength she had managed to gather would disappear and all would be for nothing when he would take a step closer and kiss her again.

"Dare not kiss me again," she said, hoping it sounded like a threat. "Ever."

Without waiting for his response or looking at his reaction, she pushed away from the wall and walked out of the library. This was the end of the night for her.

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