Harlequin Romance March 2021 Box Set Cara Colter (the mitten read aloud TXT) 📖

Charlie was relieved to see some answering nods as she went on to explain that she’d met Natalia and had all her notes and thoughts, noting the ripple of relief that ran around the room at those words, before giving a brief introduction of her own training and experience.

‘I know you are all excited,’ she concluded, addressing her words to the seated children. ‘So am I. This is a great opportunity and should be a wonderful experience for all of you. It’s my job to make sure you’re all in the best place that you can be and I am sure you know that means we have some hard work ahead of us. We will start with a warm-up and then some barre work before we head into rehearsal. I want you all to skip around the room to start off with. Like butterflies, please. Ready? Go?’

* * *

Matteo leaned back against the wall, arms folded, and watched his wife. He’d never seen her in her natural habitat before, never seen her teach a class, although he’d picked her up from them, seen her bid farewell to excited children who would bob little curtseys and call her Miss Charlie. He’d found it charming, cute—and told her so. Which, he was realising, had been pretty damn condescending of him, as if her dance teaching was just a hobby.

In fact, the more he thought about it, the more he realised he’d regarded her whole life as some kind of quirky hobby, easy for her to put aside when they married, barely listening when she’d suggested they live in Kent and he mix commuting with working from home. She’d love London when she was used to it, he’d told her, as if she hadn’t grown up in several capital cities all over the world. As if her existing life was inferior to his.

In reality, she’d been as busy as him. Teaching primary school was exhausting; he knew he couldn’t do it. And yet she’d finished a busy day of teaching maths and English and science and music and PE to over thirty children still of an age to find sitting still a chore, before heading to her second job and another two or three hours of teaching several dance styles to pupils aged as young as two all the way to her senior citizens’ beginners ballet. No wonder she’d been bored at home all day. Charity committees, entertaining and shopping were never going to satisfy her. And yet he’d been the one who had persuaded her out of applying for jobs. He’d liked knowing that Charlie was available when he needed her to accompany him to a function or on a business trip and knew that the demands of the school term would have made her presence impossible.

He’d known then that his decision had been selfish, quietened his conscience with the reminder that it wasn’t unusual in his social group and that once they had children she’d find more to occupy her. As if he were some fifties businessman, lord and master of his home. As if he were his grandfather. He could only now recognise the influence his grandfather’s comments had had.

It was painful watching her because she was so clearly in her element, despite the language barrier. One minute she was demonstrating a step, the next gently straightening a small hip or curling an arm, nodding approval or smiling a word of praise. How could anyone miss how quickly the children had taken to her? How their faces lit up with happiness at every word of praise and how diligently they copied her when she gave a correction. The parents seemed impressed too, sitting watching with narrowed eyes, nodding in agreement when Charlie made a suggestion.

Matteo’s fists curled. He had taken her at face value, his mercurial, impulsive wife, but there was a depth to her that, although he’d known it was there, he’d never bothered to explore. A depth obvious in this room, with every dedicated moment she spent on the tiniest detail, the genuine laughter and happiness when a series of steps were executed perfectly.

It was a long morning, with three classes and three rehearsals before everybody came together to rehearse the finale. The afternoon sun was high overhead when they were finally over.

‘I am so sorry,’ Matteo said as Charlie stopped to stretch her arms out, oblivious to the curious looks of passers-by. ‘I had no idea what I was signing you up for. You must be exhausted.’

But, to his surprise, she laughed. ‘Oh, no, I could teach all day. I love it.’

‘So I’m forgiven for volunteering you?’

Putting an arm through his, she kissed his cheek, warm and sweet and undeserved. ‘I think you’re punishing yourself enough. That was a lot of translating today and there’s far more to come. But it was fun to hear the children make fun of your attempts at ballet terms.’

‘Funny for you, maybe,’ he half grumbled, although he suspected that she knew that by the end he’d been hamming up his misinterpretation, charmed by the peals of giggles every time he’d said jeté or plié. ‘I loved watching you teach; it’s like a dance in itself. And you notice everything. How are you correcting a wrong leg in one corner and a misstep the other side of the room?’

‘I don’t know. Practice, I guess.’

Their route took them through the main square and he nodded at a table in a shady corner. ‘I don’t know about you but I could do with a drink and something to eat after that.’

‘That would be lovely, thank you,’ Charlie agreed and they took a seat, ordering small beers, water and some antipasti.

‘I’m sorry,’ Matteo said once their drinks had been delivered, along with a bowl of olives and some piping-hot arancini. ‘I didn’t realise how much teaching means to you, not until today. You came alive in there. Is it the same in the classroom?’

‘Different in the classroom in some ways. I