As he clasped her hand and moved them into the dance it felt to Petra as if the last ten years had not happened. Her body seemed to adapt to his without conscious thought, following steps as memory dictated. He held her close, not close enough to draw attention but she could feel every movement of his lean, hard body, every ripple of muscle as if he had always been close to her like this, as if they always moved in step.

“You’re very quiet, Petra.” His voice, soft though it was, crashed into her daydream, bringing her back to the present.

She looked up. “Oh, I was enjoying the music. I’m sorry if I’m being unsociable.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that. I’m enjoying the feel of you too much to find fault of any kind. It’s amazing how vividly memory can come back.”

“Yes,” Petra agreed, knowing that her body was moving too fluidly with his to make denial credible. “I thought you were to be in the Lords tonight. Joth was counting on your support, wasn’t he?” The question was designed to break the spell, but somehow she couldn’t produce a convincing note of provocation.

“As it happens, the reading of your brother’s bill was postponed. The chancellor had something more urgent to bring before the House.”

“Oh. I see.”

“There really is no need to fight your brother’s corner with me, dear girl,” he said, sounding amused. “I believe Jonathan will go far. His dedication to his constituency is to be admired, and, if I might say so, somewhat unusual in the present crop of young politicians.”

“Jonathan never does anything by halves,” she said, willing as always to sing her brother’s praises.

“No doubt. But, do you think once in a while we could talk about something other than your estimable brother?” The note of amusement was still in his voice and she could hear his smile in the lightly teasing tone. It wasn’t possible to take umbrage.

“Yes, of course. I don’t mean to be a bore.”

He laughed. “Oh, Petra, I don’t believe you could ever be boring.” He turned them in the dance toward an anteroom opening off the floor, guiding her steps out of the dancers.

“What are we doing here?” Petra asked, looking around the room. Judging by the deep armchairs and velvet-covered sofas it was intended as a refuge from the ballroom for fatigued ladies and chaperones. However, it was presently deserted.

“I had an overpowering urge to do this,” Guy said, drawing her with him to a curtained embrasure.