“No.” He laughed again. “All right, maybe. I’ll teach you.”

“Really?”

“Why not?” He moved closer to her. “There are a few ways to conduct a waltz, but I’ll show you the version I prefer.” He took her left hand, clasping it within his, then placed his palm against the flat of her back. “You put your other hand on my shoulder.”

She complied, looking up at him in slight surprise. “We’re so close.”

There were still several inches between them, but he supposed this was closer than she’d ever been to a gentleman. Save the musicale when he’d admonished her. There’d been a moment when he’d mentioned kissing, and he could’ve sworn something had passed between them. He’d since convinced himself that was absurd.

“Now you know why permission is required.” He gave her a flirtatious smirk, such that she might expect from a gentleman on the dance floor.

She smacked him on the shoulder. “Don’t do that!”

“Do what?” he asked with faux innocence.

“Behave like one of the young bucks who might wish to court me.”

“I was once a young buck.” Who flirted with every lady he met, regardless of her age or marital status. Was he flirting with her?

“You’re my guardian.”

Yes, he was. Consequently, he should not flirt with her. For a fleeting moment, he found that disappointing.

“Right. Then allow me to behave like a guardian and teach you to waltz.” Lifting his chin and stiffening his frame, he focused on her hairline. “The most important thing to remember about the waltz is keeping time to the music. You can count one-two-three in your head. But don’t get too caught up in doing that or you won’t be able to exchange witticisms with your partner.”

“You assume my partner will be capable of being amusing.”

“One can hope. Dancing with a dullard is truly awful.”

She nodded, her expression effusive. “Yes, you’re stuck together for so much time. Abysmal.”

“I’m going to guide you around the room,” he said. “We’ll move in a clockwise direction.”

“And pretend there is music playing.”

Tobias pressed his palm against her back and clutched her hand more firmly, then started to move. A melody came to his mind, and he began to hum.

She stumbled, and he had to clasp her even more tightly to keep her upright. “What are you doing?” she asked.

“Dancing.”

“No, the sound you’re making.”

“I’m humming.” He started up again as he steered her in a small circle, which was all the room would allow. They risked becoming dizzy.

She stopped so abruptly that he nearly fell. Digging her fingers into his shoulder, she started laughing.

“We’re barely dancing! How can you be laughing?”

“Because you sound like a cat in mourning.”

He stared at her, shocked, but he was already starting to laugh.

She sobered. “My apologies,” she said solemnly. “To cats. I think that was perhaps insulting to them.”

“Fiona!” The laughter spilled out of him then, and it was far more debilitating than the last time. Moisture pricked his eyes as he fought to gain his breath.