Page 71 of His Forbidden Duchess
“It was only right that you had a new gown for our first outing together,” he said, averting his eyes so that he could make sense of his thoughts.
She gazed at him silently with a quiet confidence.
He took a deep breath, trying to suppress the deep pull of desire that surged within him. Now was not the time.
There will never be a time.
He cleared his throat again as though trying to dislodge his emotions then clicked open his pocket watch.
“We ought to leave,” he said in as cold a tone as he could manage. “Or we shall be late.”
“Of course, Your Grace.”
Eloise stood beside him and slipped her arm into his. Her touch was dangerously electrifying, and his eyes drifted down to her gloved hand, resting gently on his arm as if he were hers and she were his.
But he could not afford to think like that. Not about her.
“His Grace, the Duke of Kingswell, and Her Grace, the Duchess of Kingswell,” the master of ceremonies declared as they stepped into the ballroom.
It was a whirlwind of color and chatter, and all eyes turned toward them. Felix was certain they had been the topic of the latest gossip mongers, as they had married quickly with little courtship. No doubt some thought her with child. Others, perhaps, suspected something more sinister. A few might even have correctly guessed that he had assisted with the family’s financial dilemma.
But that night, as they stepped into the room together, the music rising above the hum of conversation, Felix was determined that by the time they left, everyone would be certain it was a whirlwind romance, a love match, and nothing more.
“Goodness,” Eloise muttered. “So many people here already.”
“And every one of them wishing to either be you or be with you,” he replied from the corner of his mouth. “Did I tell you how beautiful you look tonight?”
“Only with your eyes,” she said, turning to look at him with a mischievous grin. He had missed that. “And that hungry look of yours.”
Felix smirked then stood tall and faced the room. He felt a wave of pride and protectiveness, tinged only by a possessive edge that he could barely explain.
She was his wife. His duchess. And tonight, he was glad the world could see it.
They stepped down from the raised area at the entrance and were immediately swallowed up by the crowd. Felix held tightly onto Eloise’s arm.
“Oh, there’s Hannah,” Eloise said, her bright smile evident in her voice. “Do you mind if I go over and speak with her for a while? It feels like an absolute age since I last saw her.” He knew he had to let go eventually, but he hadn’t expected it to be that soon.
He turned and looked at his wife. “Of course not. You are free to do as you wish, remember?”
She smiled at him though he could see her reluctance in her eyes. “Your Grace.”
He felt her arm slip from his, and he watched as she disappeared into the throng of people until he could no longer spot her. He swallowed, confused by the sense of loss he felt.
“Well, nephew,” Lady Brimsleigh said, sidling up next to him with a glass of wine in hand, “you are indeed the luckiest man here this evening. You have the most intelligentandmost beautiful woman in the room by your side.”
“I know,” Felix whispered, still watching where Eloise once stood. “I know.”
Lady Brimsleigh stepped in front of him and raised her glass, looking at him from under her brow. “I am serious, my boy. I do not know and have no desire to hear what has gone on, but promise me that you will not botch this up.”
Felix snorted in amusement, his emotions settling down as his composure returned.
“You know me, dear aunt,” he said simply. “I never botch up anything.”
“There you are! I was wondering if you would come,” Percy cried as he half walked, half stumbled over to them.
“I would not have missed it for the world,” Felix replied.
“He means I wouldn’tlethim miss it, of course,” Lady Brimsleigh said playfully. “I shall leave you boys to talk. Once again, Your Grace, it is such a pleasure to see you and your wonderful wife.”
