Page 38 of The Duke of Ruin
She beamed up at him, as giddy as a school-girl, unaware that Jane still stood close by.
"The waltz is the last dance of the night, your Grace," Jane quipped, "So you'll have to dance with a few other ladies, before you get to Olive."
Olive could see the frustration on her husband's face, and it amused her no end. It was secretly thrilling to have such a powerful, masculine man ready to do her bidding.
"Oh, yes Jane," she nodded, hiding her smile behind her hand. "His Grace must dance with the twins, Miss Devoy, you, and some of the ladies from the village. It's only right."
"Oh is it?"
Ruan cocked an eyebrow, an amused smile playing on his sinfully beautiful lips. Olive felt her mouth go dry as their eyes locked; his smoldering gaze promised retribution, and her stomach fluttered at the thought of what he might do. She recalled their brief, passionate embrace aboardThe Elizabeth, and instantly regretted her plan to loan the Duke out to her friends. She wanted to be in his arms, she wanted to feel his heartbeat in his chest, she wanted to--
"Olive?"
Jane peered at her curiously, despite her shortsightedness she could tell that Olive was distracted and flustered. "Are you alright?"
"Just a trifle hot, Jane," she responded, fanning her hand against her flaming cheeks, "Perhaps we shall fetch a glass of ratafia?"
The two friends linked arms and went in search of refreshments, though as they walked Olive could feel the burning gaze of her husband on her back. Something had changed between the two of them; she now craved his company and his touch. She wanted to see that amused smile spread across his handsome face when she teased him, she wanted to hear his dry laughter at her jokes. If she didn't know any better, Olive would think she was falling in love with her own husband...
"Things are going well, between you and His Grace," Jane whispered, once they were out of earshot. It was not a question but a statement; apparently Olive's feelings for the Duke were plain to see.
"I think that you were right," Olive whispered back, stealing a glance at her handsome husband, who was asking one of the twins to dance. "He is a good man."
Their conversation was interrupted by the handsome Lord Payne, who, despite best efforts, looked rumpled and boyish in his dress coat and trousers.
"I say, Jane," he called happily, "I've been looking for you all over. If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were hiding from me!"
From the look on Jane's face, Olive guessed that this was exactly what her friend had been doing. Though, of course, the roguishly handsome Lord Payne would never dream that any lady would shun his company. Olive stifled a giggle as Jane desperately tried to squirm her way out of dancing with the dashing Duke-to-be, but her pleading fell on deaf ears, and she was led, blindly, to the floor for a boisterous quadrille.
"Your friend looks rather discomfited."
Olive turned to find Lord Somerset at her side, his handsome face turned toward the dance floor, where poor Jane was stumbling through the steps of the dance.
"Your friend ordered his sister to forgo her spectacles for the night," Olive replied archly in Jane's defence.
"Julian always was a prig," Lavelle muttered under his breath. Olive cast him a sidelong look; the Viscount seemed to be swaying on his feet. He was in his cups!
"What say you to a twirl around the floor?" Lavelle suggested, oblivious to Olive's look of alarm. She could not dance with a man so inebriated, it would surely end in disaster.However, before she could voice an excuse, Lavelle grabbed her by the hand, and led her to the centre of the floor.
"I hear you are to resume your post as Duchess," Lavelle commented, as Olive took his hand to dance down the line of guests. They took their places opposite each other, and because of the distance between them Olive could not reply.
"Good old Everleigh," Lavelle continued, as after a few bars they met again to join hands and twirl. "He always got the women to fall for him."
Olive glanced at the Viscount in confusion; from the way he was speaking it seemed as though he didn't like Ruan --though the two had been friends for years. She remained silent for the rest of the dance and hastily excused herself once it had ended. As the next set started, she hid herself behind a large, marble column and peered out at the guests on the floor. It reminded her of the night in June, when she had hid at Lady Jersey's, but this time the dark, handsome man who had frightened her so, was the very person she wished to be with. She watched Ruan dancing with Poppy--or was it Alexandra?-- with an ache in her heart. He was so striking; true, if one believed the rumours, he could be considered intimidating --but she knew the truth. The Duke of Ruin was possibly the most virtuous person in room.
As he twirled the twin in his arms, his eye caught Olive's and he gave a wink. She flushed, hoping no one had spotted, and stepped back further into the shadows.
"What's a pretty thing like you doing hiding in the dark?"
Olive whirled around to see who had spoken, her heart hammering in her chest. Standing in darkness, by the open French doors, was Lavelle, and he had a pistol aimed straight at her.
"Say a word and I'll shoot," he threatened - though he needn't have, for Olive was dumb with shock. The blonde haired Viscount grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her toward him, and the open door.
"W-what?" Olive at last found her voice, but it was silenced as Lavelle placed a gloved hand over her mouth.
"It's nothing personal Olive," he whispered harshly, as he pulled her out into the darkness of the garden, "It's just revenge."
Drat!
