Matteo approached with Princess Elizabeth, and the four of them switched partners. Scarlet’s feet tapped with hidden anticipation to be held in his arms.

2 This painting was likely part of the prince’s actual collection in Carlton House (see Allison Lee Palmer, Historic Dictionary of Romantic Art and Architecture [Lanham, Maryland: Scarecrow Press, 2011], 19).

Chapter Seven

“And now, you shall experience dance with a true Frenchman. May you never feel the same about another partner.” Matteo’s eyebrow quirked upward as he bowed to her, a confident grin on his face.

Scarlet curtsied low and laughed. “My heart is aflutter with anticipation.” And it was, quite at that moment, pounding in her breast.

Matteo pulled her into his arms, and she rested her hand on his broad shoulder, felt his bulk and his strength as he held her other hand out to their side. They were mere inches apart, and she looked up into his eyes, feeling wisps of his breath on her neck. A great feeling of hopeful expectation filled her, and the last shackles of her hesitancy began to fade. Before she could say a word, she floated across the floor, almost carried in his arms. They whirled and spun and glided. The room was empty but for the two of them and their movement.

“You are magnificent, Matteo!” she said, her breath coming faster.

He grinned down at her. “And I am enchanted. You fit so well here in my arms.”

“Tell me this is real.” She searched his face, ending in his great brown depths. “That you feel it too.”

Matteo’s eyes darkened. “I have never been more moved by a woman.” He paused, his eyes showing his sincerity. “I have a bit of a wicked confession to make.”

Scarlet felt enticed and wary at the same time. “Do you?”

“Yes. I cannot forget our first carriage ride. You see, I became immediately addicted to the feel of your lips, and I must repeat the experience.” He leaned in close to her ear. “Again.” He looked down into her eyes. “And again.”

Scarlet swallowed. “You are too bold.”

“I am French.” His lip quirked up in a half smile. Then he added, “But a gentleman.”

Scarlet bit her lip.

“Lady Cavendish, you move me to distraction. Let us keep your lips unbitten, shall we? And while we are discussing this fascinating topic, might I add unwet by your lovely tongue as well.”

Scarlet laughed, feeling her face heat. She knew her reactions to him must be obvious to all.

He persisted. “Perhaps you remember our moments together at the west barricade?”

She opened her mouth in surprise. Did he expect her to discuss this right now? Then she felt her courage rise, and she narrowed her eyes slightly. Running her tongue along her lips for the briefest of moments, she said, “I’m not sure to what you refer? Are you speaking of the moment when Bibot nearly cast you from the carriage?”