To Sketch a Sphinx - Rebecca Connolly Page 0,48

time I spend with you.”

Good heavens, she would burst into flames on the spot. Just incinerate in the center of the guests like some pagan bonfire for them to dance around. It would be a most memorable end, but an end all the same.

“I must claim the first dance, Cousine Henrietta,” Jean exclaimed as they entered the ballroom, the strains of music already in full force.

Hal stared at him wide-eyed, still feeling rather singed in places. “Oh, but…”

“Go,” John urged gently. “I’ll find you later. I’ll partner Agathe, if she’ll have me.”

One glance at Agathe told them both the heavens had just opened, and she nodded with such enthusiasm the entire family laughed, René aside.

“Very well,” Hal conceded, smiling for all. “Onward, Cousin Jean.”

He bowed grandly, winked at his wife, and whisked Hal to the center of the ballroom. She glanced over her shoulder briefly for just a glimpse of John, catching a secret, proud smile that she would have danced all night for.

A warm tingle raced down her spine, and she grinned in anticipation of the dance with him to come.

He’d put it off for as long as he could, and now he was two hairs short of madness.

He needed to find Hal, and he needed to dance with her.

Now.

And he had never felt such a drive and desperation to do anything so lively as dance in his entire life.

At the moment, John couldn’t be entirely sure where she was. They’d been near each other several times over the course of the night, but he could honestly say he hadn’t spent more than a few minutes in her company. Hadn’t exchanged more than a handful of words with her. Hadn’t touched her since they’d parted for the first dance.

He felt shockingly bereft as a result.

Logically, none of this made any sense to him, but somehow, he knew that dancing with his wife would set him to rights.

His wife.

How did such a simple description make him smile so easily? Hal had been his wife for some time now, for the entirety of this mission, and yet…

Yet…

Something had changed of late, and everything between them felt new, exciting, and important.

Painfully so, if pain could be a pleasant thing.

It made absolutely no sense. They had both been mingling with the other guests, prodding carefully for any information that might help them discover what might transpire that night. He’d been more congenial than he had ever managed in his life, laughed without any genuine amusement, and pretended to have interest in the most ludicrous things, all for the sake of their assignment. And his thoughts somehow still turned to the person of his wife?

Unfathomable, under the pressures of the night.

He scanned the guests around him, smiling at the few who had greeted him at some point in the evening. Then, he felt warmth envelop his body when he caught sight of Hal, looking angelic as usual, in conversation with Madame Savatier. Though each of the women would be considered lovely in appearance by their own rights, there could be no comparison in John's eyes.

Far and away, Hal was the fairer of the two, the one who would draw all eyes upon her, the one who could have lit the room simply by smiling, the one whom any man in the room should have coveted and any woman envied.

His feet were moving before he knew they had done so, and he had reached her before he’d found the words to speak.

Hal smiled at him, the sweet curve of her lips seeming to know exactly what torment he felt. “You’ve come to me,” she murmured, her fair eyes dancing.

“Yes,” he rasped in response, finding no more polite way to express himself. He extended a hand to her, a sudden fear of rejection striking him with agonizing depth.

The sensation of her hand being placed in his was heaven on earth, and the fact that he had strength in his legs to walk with her was nothing short of miraculous.

“At last,” Hal said on a sigh.

Words and thoughts spun in John’s mind, and he chanced a glance at her. “Have you been waiting to dance?”

Surely, she couldn’t… Surely, she didn’t…

She grinned rather slyly and quirked a brow. “Yes and no. I’ve wanted to dance with you all night, but I was desperate to break from conversation with Madame Savatier. She’s a dear woman, but why in the world does anyone care about pickups at the hemline and whether they will become the popular fashion?”

John laughed at her