Page 77 of Trapped with the Forbidden Duke
“I do not know him as informally.” Diana giggled. “But he was standing with the Marquess of Highbury, whom I intended to speak with. But I blushed too profusely to think of one word to say, so I lingered further away from them and eavesdropped.”
Edwina laughed aloud, and the sound was so freeing, so natural, that she could only wonder how she had let herself be so serious all the time.
“You are the most confident lady in this ballroom. How can you not speak to him?”
“He-He is charming! And very handsome. Simply look at him.” Diana nodded towards the corner, where Lucien, Jasper, and a few other gentlemen stood. “He is the one with the shock of orange hair. I have had dreams where he keeps meratherwarm with that glow.”
“How so?”
Diana gave her a sly smile. “It would be improper to say aloud.”
“Oh, Diana!” Edwina could not stop laughing. “I have missed this.”
“Is Stormhold lonely?”
“No,” she confessed. “The Duke is present a great deal, but… well, he is no lady I can joke with.”
“No, but he is your husband,” Diana sighed wistfully. “And what better company could there be?”
Edwina bit her lip when she thought of the heavy silences between her and Lucien at times, and how, in many instances, they danced around questions or sought to distract one another.
“We should find the refreshments table,” Diana said, leading her past the group of men.
Edwina’s eyes met her husband’s, and she was momentarily pinned in place by those green orbs, made only more vibrant by his cravat.
He had been mid-sentence as she walked past, but he simply stopped speaking to watch her pass by. He only looked away when Jasper nudged him with his elbow and Edwina was hurried along.
Once she had drunk a glass of wine, she noticed that Lucien was seeking her out.
The small orchestra had struck up another tune—this one deeper, slower. Edwina’s heart fluttered when she noticed the intent in her husband’s strides.
“Will you dance with me, wife?” Lucien asked, his voice low but firm.
Edwina could only nod. She slipped her hand into his, and he led her to the center of the dance floor.
Her heart hammered in her chest as he moved her into position for their first-ever dance as a married couple.
The strains built up slowly, and Lucien placed his hand on her waist. She felt his touch through her dress even though she knew the gown was thick enough, but she swore she could feel his warmth, nonetheless.
Her hand was placed on his shoulder, and she struggled not to tighten her grip on the hard muscle beneath.
For a moment, in her mind’s eye, his shoulders were pressed to her back, his hand coaxing her to climax.
Her breathing quickened as she blinked up at him. As they began to dance, their steps easy and assured, Lucien gazed at her as though he wished to say something, but he remained silent. Edwina opted for the same and tried to keep her thoughts to herself, even though she was sure they were written all over her face in a pale blush.
Her body yearned for him, for the invitation he had extended. She did not know if she would go to his bed that night, but Heavens, with the way he looked at her, as though he was undressing her with his eyes alone, she wished they were already there.
Feeling like this, Edwina would tear her gown off her frame for him.
She wished to drown in him, to know what it felt like to wholly surrender to the Duke of Stormhold.
The intensity of her desire stunned her, and she blurted out the first thing that came to mind, hoping to stop her quickly loosening inhibitions.
“I wrote to my aunt last week,” she revealed.
Talking about Isabel was surely the way to shove her fiery feelings aside.
From the mild look on his face, she realized that he had been aware of it and had felt the same.
