Page 46 of When You Rescued Me

“Primarily.” He hesitated as though weighing his words. “Lady Telford has no inkling that she is likely in need of that service—and refuses to admit anyone from Bow Street into her house. My role at the ball would be to prevent anything of a criminal nature from occurring.”

“Then my answer to your earlier question is a resounding yes. I wish to help in any way that I can. And if the best way I can do that is by teaching you to dance and including you as a family friend in our party, consider it done.”

Mr. Ross ran his fingers through his dark hair. “I hardly know what to say.”

“I believe thank you is an acceptable response,” she teased, unable to contain the excitement bubbling inside her. This was exactly the kind of distraction she had been craving. The fact that it involved Mr. Ross only made it more appealing.

“You are right, of course,” he said, smiling as he came to his feet. “Thank you. I am truly grateful.”

“I shall plan on you at one o’clock tomorrow for your first class,” she said, standing to join him.

“One o’clock tomorrow,” he repeated, pressing his hat onto his head and bowing. “Until then, Miss Dennington.”

“Hannah,” she said. “If we are to be dance partners on a daily basis and accomplices in infiltrating Lady Telford’s house, we should call each other by our given names, do you not think?”

“I would be honored,” he said. “My name—” He cleared his throat. “My name is Samuel.”

“Good day, Samuel,” she said.

He bowed again. “Good day, Hannah.”

She watched him leave, her thoughts swirling as fast as the butterflies in her stomach. Sophia and Elinor would be willing to help. She was sure of it. Her father would be another story. It would take every ounce of Hannah’s persuasive powers to convince him that she had acted prudently. Especially as she was not fully convinced herself. Regardless of the plan’s questionable soundness, however, she was sure that she’d made the right decision.

Crossing the room, she touched Fanny’s shoulder.

Her maid hopped to her feet and unplugged one ear. “Yes, miss?”

“You may resume your chores and the full use of your ears now,” she said. “I’m very grateful for your willingness to play along.”

“It were lovely, miss.” Fanny unplugged the other ear. “Peace an’ quiet an’ off me feet fer a full ten minutes.”

Hannah laughed. There was no doubt about it: Fanny was obedient, unassuming, and a complete gem.

Chapter 18

Samuel was in over his head. Mastering the cotillion—with its specific steps and intricate moves—was one thing. Navigating his way through the complexities of his objectionable past, his imaginary long-term relationship with the Dennington family, and his growing attraction for Hannah Dennington herself was something else entirely. There was no water in sight in the Dennington’s drawing room, but this was the closest he’d come to drowning since Captain Lund had pulled him out of the Atlantic during one of the worst storms they’d encountered at sea.

“The third couple and fourth couple will now take their turns,” Miss Sophia said.

This afternoon, it was Miss Sophia who was calling out the steps. Due to their lack of numbers, the third and fourth couple were always missing, which meant Samuel had very little time to regroup.

“Your turn, John and Elinor,” she announced. “Join hands and circle to the right.”

The footman who’d been pressed into service to round out their numbers claimed Miss Elinor’s hands and circled left. She tripped.

“Wrong way, John,” Miss Sophia said.

The footman’s face flamed, and he reversed course. “Beggin’ your pardon, Miss Elinor.”

“It’s quite all right, John.” Miss Elinor backed up to prevent him from stepping on her toes. “You have come a long way already.”

Her comment reaffirmed the observation Samuel had made during his previous dance lessons: Miss Elinor was a saint. John might be an exceptionally good footman, but a dancer, he was not. Over the last three days, his lack of coordination had made for countless fumbles and toe injuries. Though they took it with grace, it had likely been trying for the young ladies. Samuel, however, would not complain. John’s struggle had shed Samuel’s marginally better efforts in a good light, and anything that made him feel less of a buffoon in front of Hannah was a gift.

He stood in place as John and Miss Elinor slowly and carefully completed their turn.

“Nicely done, John,” Miss Sophia said. “You will shine at the next dance you attend.”

Samuel smothered a smile. If Miss Elinor was a saint, Miss Sophia was an eternal optimist—even if it meant bending the truth a little.