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Yet she couldn't shake the strange swirling
sensation of attraction that utterly shocked her.

"Hello, Miss Flanguard." He bowed and reached
for her outstretched hand. His fingers gripped hers
possessively.

Possessively?
She shook her head.
Perhaps this was a bad idea, asking Cross.

The whole situation was causing her to
question her sanity.

He placed a simple kiss to the air above her
wrist and straightened, his gaze searching hers.

For what, she had no idea, but she wanted to
know.

"As always, you are utterly lovely. That
shade of blue only highlights the depths of your eyes." He spoke so
sincerely, as if the words were more than a compliment, rather they
were a confession.

"I, er, thank you." Essie glanced away, a
blush heating her face.

She had to pull it together!

This was not real, this was Cross helping her
out.

He didn't truly think those things.

She glanced back to his earnest
expression.

But he surely
appeared
to mean
them.

"Cross, you really must tone it down. You're
to
appear
as if you're courting her, not scare her off,"
Anna replied as she smacked her brother's shoulder with her fan
playfully.

"Ah, dear sister, you give your friend far
too little credit." Cross shrugged and turned a mischievous grin
towards Essie.

His eyes gleamed with merriment, adding a
twinkling effect to the slightly lighter shade of blue next to his
iris.

It was fascinating. How had she never noticed
it before?

"Miss Flanguard is easily able to withstand
my poor attempt at charm," he teased, but his expression wasn't as
playful as the intent of his words.

It was strange how she could see that, as if
his expression were able to speak louder than his words.

It was something she'd remember.

"Indeed." Essie found her voice as she pried
her gaze away from Cross'. "But I must admit that your brother is a
far better actor than I anticipated. I dare say if you ever wished
to, you could tread the boards at any theater," she teased.

"A compliment from the lady!" Cross grinned.
"But alas, it could never be. You see…" He leaned forward slightly,
his movements drawing her in, she followed suit till they were
closer than was proper.

Yet she found she didn't care a fig.

"Yes?" She whispered delightedly.

"I have stage fright," he whispered.

Essie laughed and shook her head, leaning
back. "How horrific for you."

"Indeed, it's humbling in the extreme. So
alas, I can never achieve my dream." He pretended to be wounded at
the thought.

Essie laughed and glanced to Anna, who was
watching them with a strange expression.

"Anna?" Essie asked, her brow pinching in
confusion.

"Ah, nothing. Nothing." She shook her head
slightly as her gaze darted between Essie and her brother. "I do
believe I'm thirsty however, I'll be back shortly."

She spun on her slipper and left in a swirl
of pale green silk.

"Odd," Cross commented.

Essie turned a questioning expression towards
him.

"Odd that she didn't ask me to retrieve her
some lemonade. I honestly can't remember the last time she didn't
expect me to procure her a glass." Cross met Essie's gaze then
shifted to watch his sister's retreating back.

"I'm sure it's nothing."

Essie shrugged.

"So, Miss Flanguard—"

"No. Cross I've known you far too long for
you to call me 'Miss Flanguard'. Essie, if you please. After all,
we have a
role
to play, do we not?" She leaned forward and
whispered the last words quietly.

Cross met her gaze with one of his own,
without hesitation he leaned in towards her. His eyes roaming her
face, finally focusing on her lips. "Indeed we do. Far be it from
me to shirk my responsibilities," he whispered, and leaned
back.

Essie felt his retreat acutely, as if he had
taken the warmth of the room with him.

"I should like to secure the super waltz and,
if you wish to cause a stir, I'll take one additional dance."

Essie bit her lip. "It would indeed make a
statement. Very well."

"Would you care to start now?"

"Now?"

"Yes, dance, you me, the cotillion." He
swayed his shoulders slightly, pretending to dance.

Essie laughed.

He chuckled in return, appearing utterly
pleased he provoked her mirth.

"When you ask like that, how could I
refuse?

"Ah, I learned her weakness!" Cross declared
as he led her to the dance floor.

"I have no weakness sir," she shot back,
grinning.

"Everyone has a weakness, Essie." He spoke
the words with a smile, but again, his eyes were far more serious
in expression than his tone, belying his attempt at humor.

"Indeed, we do," she replied, trying to keep
the tone light.

"But the most surprising truth about
weakness, is that often, it can be turned into a great strength."
He spoke directly. "The trick is to not believe the lie."

"The lie?" Essie asked quickly as they neared
the line of dancers.

"Yes, the lie that the risk isn't worth the
reward. Because Essie…" He paused mid-stride and gazed at her
candidly. "The lie keeps you from achieving the best, the most the
highest and most beautiful. The lie tells you you'll never succeed…
when the truth is, no matter what, you
will
. You'll either
achieve your goal, or you'll fail and learn something from the
experience, then you dust yourself off and try again. But I'd
always rather try and fail, than be a coward," he whispered the
last words, as if they were more to himself, than to her.

"Who are you?" Essie asked before she could
filter her thoughts.

He seemed startled, then a dangerous light
illuminated his eyes.

"You're about to find out."

Cross knew that with
each moment he spent with Essie, the risk to his heart grew
exponentially. It was both his greatest dream and most acute
nightmare. For indeed, he was most assuredly courting her, with
every glance, every grasp of her hand as they danced.

But it wasn't real.

Yet.

But he was certain he wasn't imagining the
way she was beginning to respond to him, as if perhaps who she
expected him to be, was not who he indeed was.

If she only knew.

He would take it slow, he would bide his time
and win her over under the pretense of playing the ruse.

As the time for the supper waltz neared, he
made his way around the edge of the ballroom, breathing deeply;
reminding himself of his earlier declaration. He'd not play the
coward. He had been given this golden opportunity and he'd not
waste it.

He had waited too long once before, and she
became engaged to someone else. Fate—blessed providence that it
was—had seen fit to grant him one final chance to win her heart,
and he'd not squander it.

He caught sight of her, a beautiful vision in
her pale blue silk dress. She wore a single ostrich feather in her
hair; it's creamy color highlighting the beautiful tone of her
skin. A wide grin broke out across her face, drawing his attention
to her full lips, the most perfect shade carnation pink. He made
his way towards her as the first strains of the waltz began. As he
neared, she turned slightly and noticed him, her lips once again
twisting into a beguiling smile.

Cross grinned in return, offering his hand to
her. "I believe this is my waltz, my lady." He bowed smartly.

"Indeed it is," she answered and excused
herself from the other young ladies with which she had been
conversing.

For the first time, Cross noticed how small
her hand was, how its slight form made him feel stronger, and
profoundly protective of the woman in his grasp.

"No profound insights to offer?" Essie's
voice called him from his own musings.

"Pardon?" He furrowed his brow in confusion
before understanding dawned. "Ah, minx. No, I only save my deep
insights for the Cotillion."

"Pity, and here I was expecting something
truly deep, since it was a waltz." She shrugged teasingly.

"The waltz needs no assistance in succeeding
to be profound," Cross murmured as he pulled her into the frame of
his body. Oh he had danced with her—waltzed with her—before, but
this time was different…. This time he could make passionate love
to her through the fluidity of their movements on the ballroom
floor. He could let the adoration he held for her deep within shine
through his eyes and flow over her.

"Oh? I find myself sincerely curious as to
how you think so," Essie replied, yet the teasing manner she had
used earlier was more subdued. Softly, she placed her hand on his
shoulder and grasped his hand.

Cross pulled her in close… but not too close.
But his hold was decidedly possessive.

His entire body responded with a thrilling
hum of greatly restrained desire. She didn't resist his hold,
rather seemed to melt into it, as if she fit.

As if she belonged.

If only he could prove that it was indeed the
truth.

Steeling himself against his own thoughts, he
led them into the swirling dancers and thought of how to answer her
question. "The waltz is profound because it takes two seemingly
innocent expressions of humanity and through them, creates an
expression that provokes delight and desire, joy and hope."

"The innocent expressions being?" Essie
questioned, her eyebrow raised in challenge.

Cross grinned and leaned forward. "Music and
movement."

"I can see your point, but I have yet to see
it executed. They are fine words you say, but they hold no power
unless applied." Essie seemed to dare.

"Is that a challenge I hear in your tone?"
Cross asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Me? Challenge you?
Never
." Her eyes
glowed with mischief.

Cross leaned forward. "Challenge accepted."
His gaze lingered on her lips. "The question is if you are up the
gamble." Any restraint he had employed before was stripped away as
he lowered his hand on her back slightly and splayed his fingers so
that his grip was widened, holding
more
of her.

Her eyes widened slightly, but she didn't
make any movement to escape or loosen his grip, rather she
surprised him by taking a step closer.

Saints above.

Tilting his head slightly, he leaned forward
and inhaled the soft scent of her, allowing it to fill his senses
as they spun. He led her effortlessly as he gently applied pressure
along her waist, as he guided her through their outstretched hands,
allowing the music to pull them into the grip of its magic. Leaning
back, he allowed his gaze to focus entirely on her, not sparing a
glance for the rest of the dancers, but memorizing the tilt of her
chin, the way her smile began to transition into a humble
blush.

A blush he had provoked.

"I had no idea you were so…" She seemed
unable to find the word as she broke eye contact and glanced down,
her color deepening.

"Charming? Handsome? Feel free to pick one,"
he teased, never once taking his gaze from her face.

She glanced up, a wry grin twisting her lips.
"Daring," she replied.

"You say it as if were a bad trait," he shot
back, playfully.

"Not necessarily, bad… simply surprising."
She hitched a shoulder as the music faded.

He released her waist and immediately missed
holding her, but settle for her petite hand resting on his arm.

"Apparently I'm full of surprises tonight,"
he murmured, glancing to her.

Rather than respond she bit her lip and
looked away, a playful twisting of her lips tempting him.

She took a breath and returned his gaze.
"Actually, I find you rather—"

"Essie!" Anna's voice attempted to whisper
but it truly sounded more of a shout and quite effectively
interrupted whatever Essie was about to say.

Damn it all.

"Anna?" Essie's brow furrowed as she watched
Anna approach, her skirts swishing in the urgency of her gait.

"Essie! He's here and…" Anna's gaze slid to
her brother then back to Essie. "He's here and with Miss
Montray."

"He? Who in creation is 'he' Anna?" Cross
asked in an irritated tone.

As Anna opened her mouth to answer, Essie did
for her. "Trighton." She whispered the name.

Immediately Cross focused his attention on
Essie, trying to read her expression.

Her shoulders lifted with the deep breath she
drew, as if fortifying herself. "All it proves is that I was indeed
fortunate to escape such a fickle gentleman," she replied bravely,
putting on a courageous smile that didn't reach her eyes.

Anna offered her a comforting smile as she
reached out and grasped Essie's other hand, the one that wasn't
still resting on his arm. Reaching over he placed his own hand over
hers, hopefully offering reassurance.