Warped (Maurissa Guibord)

painting. "But you have a talent of your own."
    Tessa gave a rueful smile. "You wouldn't say so if you knew how I painted that." Will crooked his eyebrows in a silent question. Tessa raised her hands and wriggled them shyly. "With my fingers. Weird, huh? There's something I love about the feel of the paint ... the colors." She shook her head. "But when I hold a brush or a pen, I get clumsy. Something gets lost between me and the paper." She tilted her head and looked at Will. "I'm not sure if I'm making any sense to you."
    "Yes," he murmured, looking at her steadily. "You do make sense. What else have you painted?"
    Tessa looked away. "Nothing. Since then." She had no real talent. And whenever she tried to paint or draw, she was afraid she was just trying to bring her mother back in some small way.
    Will made a slow circle of the room with his gaze. "It's a shame such a delightful room is no longer used."
    "Like I said before," Tessa answered stiffly. "It was my mother's studio. She was the artist."
    There was a silence, and this time it wasn't comfortable.
    Will set her painting down carefully, as if it was something precious. "Actually, mistress. I wasn't thinking of painting." He looked around. "This room would also be very suitable for ..." He came closer and startled her by taking one of her hands in his own. "Dancing."
    "What are you doing?" At his touch she all but jerked her hand away. Not because she didn't want to touch him. But because suddenly it was all she wanted.
    "Simply this: we are trapped here, for the moment, while Moncrieff cools his heels outside. To pass the time, I am offering you all of the benefits of my training with the dance master Monsieur Foquelaire. Come." He pulled her to the center of the large room. He bowed. "We begin."
    Will held Tessa by only the tips of her fingers, raised high in front of their chests. The touch was nothing, the merest contact, but somehow she felt as though she were flying when Will began to maneuver her across the open space, pacing beside her.
    "Forward," he said, laughing as he watched her feet. "Forward again. Now back. Reprise. Turn. Reverence." He bowed deeply. "You curtsy now."
    "Oh, right." Tessa bent her knees, feeling silly.
    "This is a basse danse, " Will said. "It's very proper and suitable for court occasions. During which you must not spit, and blow your nose only sparingly."
    "I'll try to remember." Tessa smiled as they proceeded side by side. Once she had the pattern down, she was able to look up across the arm's length between them, where she found Will's eyes trained on her. The silly feeling faded. Tessa's steps became less mechanical as her feet, almost as if by themselves, matched Will's fluid movements. Soon they were gliding, wordlessly in sync. She imagined she wore a beautiful gown that brushed the floor as she danced. Thick folds of blue velvet swirled against her skin when she turned. They were surrounded by candlelight. They were--
    "You dance well, mistress," Will said.
    His words broke the spell of her imagination, but her heart still did a little flip at the compliment. Tessa searched for something to say. "It seems very ... slow," she managed.
    "It has to be." Will looked forward, head upright. "Everyone's shoes are pinching their toes and they're stepping on each other's trains."
    Tessa laughed but Will kept a straight face. "In truth, it can be a most painful ordeal," he commented. "My brother, Hugh, would rather fight the heathen hordes than risk his toes to the dance." He stopped and released her hands. "Now, this , my lady, is the galliard. " He sprang up and landed neatly beside her. "The king himself is a devotee of this particular dance." He kicked out again and jumped. "It is said to be very daring, very athletic."
    "Athletic. Yes, I can see," said Tessa, watching him with a smile. "When do you get to the daring part?"
    "Just here, mistress. Lavolta. " Will suddenly put both hands to Tessa's waist and lifted her up. She gasped with surprise and clutched his shoulders. He arched back and she felt her weight resting against the firm planes of his chest as he turned slowly in a circle, looking up at her.
    Tessa's heart was kickboxing in her chest. Her eyes stayed focused on Will's as he let her down slowly. But he was tall and it was a long way down.
    "You see?" he said, breathing deeply. "Scandalous." He swallowed.
    They stood facing each other. Will didn't remove his hands from her waist but leaned closer, his lips only