That Would Be a Fairy Tale - By Amanda Grange Page 0,43

made of pale blue mousseline de soie which perfectly suited Cicely’s complexion, bringing out echoing flashes of blue in her grey eyes. The silky fabric draped itself elegantly around her curves. It was nipped in at the waist with a decorative sash before flaring out into a long skirt which trailed elegantly into a flounced train.

Cicely pulled on her long gloves and accompanied Alice downstairs, together with Mrs Babbage. As she reached the foot of the staircase, she was glad she was wearing her best gown. It gave her a boost of confidence, for which she was grateful, as the idea of watching Alex drifting round the ballroom with Miss Postlethwaite in his arms filled her with dread.

She had no time to dwell on it, however, as the guests from the surrounding neighbourhood were already beginning to arrive. Most of them were old friends, and she was soon absorbed in interesting conversations about local life.

And then the music started. Her hand was claimed by Roddy, who had clearly been enjoying the house party, and after that it was claimed by Lord Chuffington. Chuff Chuff was looking splendid in evening dress. He was a good dancer, being light on his feet, and Cicely found it a pleasure to be whirled around the floor by him.

More dances followed, and then, just as she left the floor with Mr Carruthers, she found herself whisked back onto it as the orchestra struck up the opening chords of a waltz.

‘May I have the pleasure?’ asked Alex, smiling down into her eyes as one arm glided round her waist whilst the other took her hand in a firm, sure grasp.

‘It seems I have no choice,’ said Cicely apprehensively. Although she knew that dancing with Alex would be glorious, she also knew it would not be wise.

‘Only object, and I will escort you to the side of the room,’ he said teasingly.

For one moment she almost asked him to do so, but the temptation to feel his arm around her was too much for her and she smiled, caution forgotten as she looked up into his velvety brown eyes. ‘I fear, I cannot.’

He smiled. Then, settling his arm more possessively round her waist, he whirled her onto the floor. Cicely had just enough time to catch up her train before they joined the other dancers. His hold was so sure and his guiding arm was so strong that she felt herself relax.

‘And how are you enjoying the ball?’ he asked. ‘You are not sorry I persuaded you to come?’

‘Persuaded?’ she said. ‘As I remember it, you traded with me.’

‘So I did. Well? Was it a bad deal?’

‘I will let you know after the Sunday school picnic,’ she said.

He laughed, and she felt her spirits lifting. Her head knew it was madness to forget about Eugenie, but her treacherous heart told her to live for the moment and enjoy the dance.

‘The picnic will be held here in the last week of September, as usual. You see, I kept my side of the bargain. But you still haven’t answered my question. Are you enjoying the ball?’

She hesitated. To admit that she was seemed madness, and yet in all honesty how could she do anything else?

‘Yes, I am,’ she said.

‘Good.’

There was a profound satisfaction in his voice, far more so than she would have expected, and it sent a tingle down her spine and she hoped he had not felt the tingle as it passed through her.

Whether he did or not she could not tell, but the pressure of his hand in the small of her back increased and she felt a smouldering heat radiating from it. She had a sudden urge to pull away from him and run out of the ballroom, coupled with an equally strong yet contradictory wish that he would pull her closer still. It was these kind of confusing thoughts that made it so difficult for her to be with Alex, and yet made it so exhilarating at the same time.

‘And how have the repairs been coming along at the Lodge?’

‘Very well,’ she said, glad to seize on this ordinary topic of conversation. Having Alex’s arms around her was proving even more unsettling than she had anticipated, and the practicalities of the Lodge formed a much-needed diversion. ‘The kitchen has been thoroughly cleaned and the hole in the wall has been repaired. The range itself has been disposed of, as unfortunately it was beyond rescue.’

‘A good thing. It was old and unsafe.’

Cicely sighed. A good