Page 25 of An Arranged Betrothal with a Contrite Duke
He bowed deeply as she approached.
“Good evening, Lady Lydia,” he said, his voice low and husky. "You look absolutely radiant.”
Lydia felt herself blushing at the compliment.
“Thank you, my lord,” she said. “You look rather dashing yourself.”
The duke gave her a soft smile. He leaned close to her ear to be heard over the dying applause.
“In light of the circumstances, please, just call me Michael,” he said.
Lydia’s heart soared. If he wanted her to call him by his first name, he must be feeling the attraction between them, as well. Her blush intensified, but she looked him in the eyes.
“Well, Michael,” she said. “Then call me Lydia.”
Michael dipped his head again, waiting as she took his arm.
“Very well then,” he said. “Shall we mingle with the guests, Lydia?”
Lydia gasped inaudibly at the shivers that raced up her spine at his use of her Christian name. She nodded, smiling shyly up at him.
“I am looking forward to it very much,” she said.
Lydia nodded, and they made their way around the room, greeting guests and making small talk. Michael was charming, but Lydia could sense that he was nervous. She knew he didn't like these kinds of events, and she wanted to do everything in her power to put him at ease.
As they moved through the crowd, Lydia kept close to Michael, her arm linked with his. She could feel the warmth of his body through his coat, and it made her feel safe and protected. She wanted him to know that she was here for him, no matter what.
“Are you all right? she asked quietly, turning to look up at him.
He smiled down at her, but his eyes were tense.
“Of course,” he said. “But as you are aware, these kinds of events make me a bit nervous.”
Lydia squeezed his arm gently.
“Don't worry, Michael,” she whispered. “I'm here with you. We'll get through it together.”
Michael looked down at her as though he wanted to say something. But the orchestra struck up the first chords of the very first dance, which would be performed just by Michael and Lydia. Her heart skipped. It was their engagement party, and they were about to share their very first dance. Moreover, since they were to be married in a fortnight, they could dance as many times as they liked. Her excitement refreshed with intensity, and she followed Michael onto the dance floor. She could hardly believe how much her life had changed in such a short time. And she was very thankful.
Chapter Fourteen
Michael paced in front of his open wardrobe, wringing his hands. He had spent the past four days thinking of very little other than Lydia. He had even managed to forget all about the vase most days, as thinking of it led to thinking about her. It had taken him a full day to get his heart to stop racing when he thought of her smiling face. She had been so much more beautiful than he could have ever expected. But even after that first day after meeting her, he couldn’t get her out of his mind. One moment, in particular.
“Milord?” came Lark’s voice from the doorway. “Shall I help you pick a suit?”
Michael turned with reddened cheeks and faced his valet.
“No, thank you,” he said curtly. “Please, draw me a bath. I shall pick out the suit.
Lark nodded, his lips twitching as though he wanted to smile, or say something more. But he simply bowed and disappeared through the door on the other side of the room that led to the dressing and bathing room.
Michael turned back to the wardrobe. Lark had taken the liberty of going to town and purchasing him all new suits. He hadn’t minded, as he had been too preoccupied. And having Lark in town three of the four days had meant that Michael had largely had his thoughts to himself, so long as he stayed in his room. It meant that he didn’t have to talk about the moment he nearly kissed his bride-to-be.
He was terribly embarrassed by his near mistake. He couldn’t believe that he had come so close to doing such a thing. But more than that, he couldn’t even quite decide if it would have been a mistake. He caught himself thinking often that it was a bigger mistake that he hadn’t. And that made him all the more embarrassed, which made him regret it all over again.
He couldn’t understand his feelings for Lady Lydia. He had been completely taken by surprise by everything about her. None of that dinner that evening had gone as he had expected it to. It likely wouldn’t have left him feeling so strange and conflicted about his bride if she had been just smart or just pretty. But she had been both, and more so than he would have ever dreamed possible.
He ran his hands through his hair, which Lark had trimmed for him again the day before in preparation for his engagement party that evening. He had insisted that Lark not cut it short, as he hadn’t had short hair since he was a boy. He just hoped that his betrothed would approve of his style.
