THE MAGIC TOUCH (Historical Romance) by PATRICIA KEYSON

well…” She was lost for words.
    “Hope! Here, Beaumont take her card and put your name down. She is inclined to giddiness. Not one of her best traits. But she is young, far younger than I and quite a few years younger than you.”
    Beaumont raised his eyebrows. “I believe Eustace was somewhat older than you, Constance. I am quite sure your love for each other was as strong as if you had been of similar ages.”
    Love! How had love come into the conversation? Hope looked from her aunt to Beaumont and back to her aunt again.
    “Indeed Beaumont. This is quite the most inappropriate conversation for the occasion. Thankfully here comes James.”
    James led Hope onto the dance floor and the quadrille began. Hope liked dancing and was soon enjoying herself, but was aware of Beaumont standing watching her, his eyes on her every move. It was quite disconcerting. When the dance ended James led her back to the seat next to her aunt, thanked her, bowed politely and left. Beaumont was soon back, a grin on his face. “My turn I believe.”
    “Really Beaumont, your manners are ...”
    “I apologise, but this young lady dances like an angel and I can’t wait to whisk her round the ballroom.”
    “Be warned. I will be watching, along with all the other mothers and aunts in the room.” Hope couldn’t be sure, but there seemed to be a twinkle in her aunt’s eye.
    All other thoughts soon disappeared from Hope’s mind as Beaumont’s arm encircled her waist and she felt the warm th of his hand through the light material of her gown. When their hands met, she feared she’d have the vapours and she had to hang on tightly to him. Secretly, she was pleased to have the excuse to do so. Not that he was a stabilising influence on her at all. The jaunty polka music had its effect and Beaumont skilfully whisked her across the ballroom; it was as if they were the only two in the whole room. Risking a glance at him as they twirled around, Hope’s eyes met his and he tightened his hold on her, pulling her closer to him. If only this could go on forever. But then the music stopped and partners separated.
    Beaumont escorted Hope to Aunt Constance who was in conversation with Isabella Padstock. Could it be possible that Beaumont would ask her for another dance, pondered Hope. She willed him to read her mind. He leant towards her and she was sure he had. “Thank you, Hope. You’re a splendid dancer as I said. I would ask you for the next dance, but I am promised to another.”
    Hope wondered if he would be dancing with Isabella. Lady Padstock wouldn’t be pleased, she reflected. But after acknowledging Isabella, Beaumont extended his hand towards her aunt. “Our dance I think, Constance. I’m looking forward to it. The young people quite tire me.” He inclined his head to Hope and winked. As Beaumont led Constance away, Hope heard him saying, “I’m pleased you feel able to take a stage out of mourning. What a very pretty sash that is.”
    To Hope’s surprise, she saw that her aunt was a more than capable dancer. She watched as Beaumont expertly guided his par tner around to the waltz music.
    “I see you danced with James.” Isabella’s voice took Hope by surprise; she’d forgotten she was there.
    “Yes,” she said, dragging her eyes from the dance floor. “He’s a competent partner.” It was all she could think of to say about him.
    “He’s divine,” breathed Isabella. “He’s written his name in for the maximum number of allowed dances.”
    Hope was relieved that Isabella and The Honourable James Henderson were getting on well together. “It’s a wonderful evening, Isabella. I’m especially pleased to see Aunt Constance enjoying herself as much as she is.”
    A queue of young gentlemen approached the two women and asked for their dance cards. Hope’s was filling rapidly and she wanted there to be room for Beaumont’s name. How many dances were they allowed together? She couldn’t remember, but she knew her aunt