The steps of the dance were lost on her, their surroundings vanishing among the cloud that encircled them, all other thoughts and plans and ideas fading from existence until only she and he remained, wrapped together in this moment. Yet somehow, they were moving; she could feel the ground beneath her toes, the brush of his foot against hers, the pressure of his hand at her back, the motion of her hair on the breeze, the chill against her cheek.

She was all sensation, all feeling, all light and breath, ready to burst in a shower of sparks that would fall around them like snow.

Waves rolling around and over, across and through, drowning her in their depths yet elevating her into fresher air than she could ever know.

She exhaled a rough breath leaning into his hold, giving in to the bliss that called to her.

Basset’s dark eyes fell to her lips, his hold on her tightening.

She arched in, another breath hitching in her throat.

“Adelaide…”

Her lashes fluttered weakly, her fingers curling around his.

Applause broke through her haze, disturbing the ethereal and bringing her back to the cold, now unsteady earth.

Basset still held her close, his eyes a dark fire she could only hope to search. He inhaled silently, then, on his exhale, loosened his hold around her, swallowing quickly.

And then he smiled. Just a little. Just enough.

Adelaide had to smile back. She couldn’t help it.

Something about that made Basset chuckle very low, and his thumb ran over the hand he still held. “Shall we go home?” he murmured.

She managed a nod. “Yes.”

He tilted his head a little. “Would it be all right if we walked?”

Again, she nodded, not knowing how far it was, but willing to go anywhere with him, so long as this moment would not fully end yet.

He nodded in return, that maddening smile still in place, and walked with her to fetch his jacket and her turban and cloak, tossing both garments over his free arm while she clutched the turban in her other hand.

They made their farewells and started the walk toward Trevadden, hand in hand, fingers entwined.

Adelaide bit her lip as they strolled in silence, her thoughts returning with a feverish whirl. What would this mean? What had they just experienced? How could she explain any of this to herself when she woke from what had to be a dream?

How would her husband feel about any of it?

Just then, Basset lifted the back of her hand to his lips, lingered there a long moment, then lowered it again, keeping her close to his side.

She released a very soft breath, the warmth of his hold reaching her heart and giving it wings.

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Sixteen

By Christmas, Adelaide’s condition was physically evident, and she was not pleased about it.

Harrison, however, thought it was rather charming.