Chapter Six

      Although Fanny had initially suggested she and Jonathon join the flurry of dancers, she was pleased he’d taken the lead and guided her into the waltz. His father’s hold on him was lessening, or so she hoped.

      With the music vibrant around them, she settled into his embrace. They fitted well together, their feet gliding across the parquet floor in seamless harmony.

      She’d known a moment of terrible distress when Judge Greene entered the ballroom. She’d recovered quickly, and had immediately taken charge of the situation.

      Fanny was good at anticipating problems at the hotel, even better at dealing with situations before they became, well...problems. It was one of the reasons Jonathon valued her, why he kept giving her more and more responsibility.

      Tonight, she’d been happy to put her skills to use for his sake.

      Step by step, spin by spin, she could feel the tension draining out of him.

      Beneath the flickering light of the chandelier, and the glow of a thousand candles, his features gradually lost their dark, turbulent edge. Jonathon was a man with many secrets and hidden pain harvested from a past no child should have to have suffered.

      His present was proving no less harrowing, all because his father wished to acknowledge him publically. Not out of remorse for years lost, or guilt, or even sorrow for the harm he’d caused his son, but because Jonathon was a success now. His rags-to-riches story was legendary in Denver, almost mythical, and thus he was now worthy of Judge Greene’s notice.

      What a vile, hideous man.

      Fanny caught a glimpse of him out of the corner of her eye. Tall and fit, with a shock of thick, white hair, he stood near the buffet table with his wife and family. The judge’s features were distinguished and classically handsome, his face almost pretty. It seemed unfair that the man should look twenty years younger than his age.

      His sins were supposed to show in his appearance, weren’t they?

      “He doesn’t matter,” she muttered.

      To his credit, Jonathon didn’t pretend to misunderstand who she meant. “No, he doesn’t, not tonight.”

      Not ever, Fanny wanted to add, but Jonathon’s hold around her waist tightened ever so slightly and he twirled her in a series of smooth, sure-footed spins.

      The man was incredibly light on his feet.

      “Where did you learn to dance so beautifully?”

      “My mother taught me.” His gaze darkened, filling with the shadows of some private memory. “She believed every gentleman should know how to waltz, her son most of all.”

      Proving his expertise went beyond the basics, he spun Fanny in a collection of complicated steps that had her gasping for air. “She instructed you well.”

      “Indeed.”

      They smiled at each other. More than a few interested gazes followed them through the next series of twirls. Fanny frowned at the words she caught from a gaggle of ladies on her left. That’s the girl who jilted Reese Bennett Jr.