Page 68 of The Duke's Forbidden Bride
“Then again, this is only one part of the ballroom.” Beneath the edge of the mask, Spencer’s mouth was visible, and he smiled. “It has come to my attention that I have not asked you to dance.”
“If I recall correctly, you told Lord Avington that you do not dance.”
“I only said that to get him off my back. I am actually quite a good dancer.”
Eleanor raised an eyebrow. “What other hidden talents do you have?”
“Not as many as you do, but I will settle for showing you my dancing prowess for now.” He offered his hand. “Duchess.”
“Duke,” she answered smartly, taking his hand and letting him lead her to the dance floor.
The guests parted for them, and although they were not the only couple ready to start dancing the waltz, Eleanor felt as though they were the moment Spencer faced her and placed his hand on her waist.
She swallowed as he drew closer and eased her into the first step of the dance. His expression was impassive, impossible to read, and yet she could not stop searching for a hint ofsomethingin his eyes. He watched her just as keenly, and she wondered what he saw on her face, half hidden by her mask.
Her feet moved gracefully, her body recalling the intensive lessons she’d had before her debut. In turn, Spencer moved just as smoothly, leading her as though it was the most natural thing in the world.
His hand around hers, his palm on her waist—it all feltright.
Spencer never once broke their stare, not as he spun her around the dance floor, their movements fluid and in sync. There was no awkward fumbling, no stumbling. It was perfect.
He raised her arm so he could spin her beneath it, and her skirt billowed. As she spun back in, she moved too fast, swiftly bumping into his chest, but he held her there. His hand burned hot even through the layers of her dress. Beneath her hand, his heart beat erratically.
His eyes searched hers. This close, she could see the honey flecks among the brown. Heavens, he was handsome. His scent was intoxicating, and Eleanor found herself leaning in closer beneath the guise of a slower part of the dance.
Cinnamon. He smelled like cinnamon and the autumnal woods behind Everdawn Hall. He smelled like… home.
Eleanor didn’t move for a moment. She simply stood there, gazing up at him. But then the music reached a crescendo, and Spencer twirled her around, their feet moving fast to catch up with one another.
She had never felt so exhilarated.
The intensity built until she felt her lips stretch into a smile. Until she forgot who she was or where she was, or what they were doing there.
But too soon, the dance drew to a close, the music fading into the next score.
Spencer released her waist, stepped back, and bowed to her as she curtsied. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a man approach them, his mask an azure blue, dazzling beneath the chandelier light.
Lord Avington drew to a stop before them, his smile full of mischief. Not even his mask could hide it.
“What a stunning sight you both make,” he greeted, looking between them. “A fox and the moon he is guided by, no? Or perhaps the moon he hunts.”
His eyes flashed, a grin spreading across his face.
“Theodore,” Spencer responded. “And are you the water in which ladies tumble lest they lean so close to look into your eyes too deeply?”
“Exactly. I am an embodiment of the ocean, dark and mysterious, hidden depths and a smooth, crystalline surface thatbeckons. I just need my pretty siren, banked upon my waves and?—”
“I think that is quite enough innuendo,” Spencer cut in, glancing at Eleanor, who was stifling her laughter.
Her dress was silver, matching her mask, and she did look rather celestial—a brilliant, bright moon, visible in the darkness, never to have her light dimmed. It was quite significant for her.
In comparison, Spencer’s black shirt, dark copper waistcoat, and cravat made her feel as though they had never left the countryside. In that, she found comfort.
“Your Grace, may I steal Spencer from you?” Lord Avington asked. “There are some rather important lords he must meet.”
He looked at Spencer knowingly, but Spencer only nodded, as if to say that Eleanor was privy to some of their plans.
Eleanor expected her nerves to rise at the thought of being left alone, but she found herself feeling bolder than usual. Confident.
