Page 55 of A Deal with her Forbidden Duke
Lord Hartford paled, knowing tonight would solidify or weaken his standing in theton.
“Of course,” he said quickly, turning back to Madeleine. “I am sorry, Your Grace. It is an honor to have you here.”
“I am sorry, also, Your Grace,” Lady Hartford said, her cheeks coloring. “Thank you for your gracious compliment.”
Before Madeleine could bite back her harsh retort, another woman swanned into the fray, her feathered, pretty dress taking up what felt like all space next to Madeleine.
“Ah, Lady Rowthern!” Lady Hartford said, her voice much brighter. “I am so glad you could make it tonight. Lady Rowthern, this is the Duke and Duchess of Silverton. Your Graces, this is Lady Rowthern.”
“And I am sure the Marquess is somewhere near the wine table,” Lady Rowthern laughed. “It is lovely to meet you, Your Graces. I have… heard much about you.”
Her gaze lingered on Madeleine with something Madeleine couldn’t quite detect. They curtsied to one another regardless.
“Do excuse us,” Lord Hartford said. “We must greet our other guests.”
He led his wife away, leaving Madeleine and Alexander facing Lady Rowthern.
“On the subject of hearing much about you,” Lady Rowthern said, “congratulations on your marriage, Duchess.” Although her words were courteous enough, there was a note of sarcasm that Madeleine detected. “I do hope your husband is treating you… well.”
Madeleine suppressed her shock at the hostility, biting her tongue. “Yes, thank you. We have adjusted.”
Alexander’s hand rested on her waist, his fingertips pressing hard, keeping her grounded, a support for anybody looking.
Lady Rowthern’s eyes dropped to the touch. Her mouth opened but Alexander drew Madeleine closer.
“I see our friends. Excuse us, my lady,” he told her, and drew her away, letting them get lost in the crowd to avoid the lady.
“Where are our fr?—”
“I do not like that woman or how she spoke to you.” He was sharply-spoken, his eyes hard as he glanced behind them.
Soon, he stopped them on the fringe of the floor. “Dance with me, Madeleine.”
Her breath caught before she nodded. Alexander led her to the floor, his eyes sparkling beneath the chandelier that swung above them.
The music swelled, and Alexander pulled her closer, his hand still on her waist. Her own settled on his shoulders, and she could barely control her breathing as he began to sweep her around the floor, weaving her in and out of the other couples.
His chest was almost pressed to hers, a mirror of their moment against the desk a week ago. Her head grew pleasantly dizzy, and her arousal peaked once again at how he never once took his eyes off her.
Her frustration grew alongside her arousal, wishing to be alone with him, and wishing to not be so timid whenever she got the chance.
Alexander’s breath fanned over the base of her neck, and she shivered beneath the closeness and intensity of her husband. Her whole body was drawn to him.
“You dance very well,” Alexander said, mouth almost brushing the shell of her ear. “But clearly you have not been danced with enough.”
“Do you find yourself wanting to make up for it?” she teased.
“Yes.”
The blunt honesty had her almost stumbling through the next step but Madeleine regained her composure. She smiled up at him, and for a brief, beautiful moment, the ballroom faded away.
No more gossip, or stares—only her husband who had saved her from a terrible fate, and who saw her.
The dance swiftly ended, and she almost mourned the loss of his closeness as they parted and left the dancefloor.
Madeleine snuck a look at Lady Rowthern, finding her engaged with whom she thought was the marquess, trying not to be surprised at how old the man was.
“There is Lord Banbury and Lady Anna.” Alexander nodded at the couple that was celebrated at the last ball they had attended. “Did you know that I encouraged him to speak with her?”
