Page 54 of A Duke Under Her Spell
“Nonsense,” the Dowager Duchess argued. “You do not have anything more important than helping our dear friend, do you?” she asked Felix.
Please say yes. Say that you are otherwise engaged. Say that you have an appointment with the Earl. Say that you are having tea with the Prince Regent. Say anything but no.Marybeth begged him in silence.
“No, I do not,” Felix replied smiling. “I would be happy to instruct Miss Wright in the finer points of dancing.”
Marybeth’s heart managed to sink and speed up at the same time. It was a feeling that was not at all comfortable for her. The knowledge that she would be held in Felix’s arms once more evoked equal parts anxiety and excitement. “Are you certain?” she asked, her voice shaking ever so slightly.
“I am,” Felix answered meeting her eyes.
“Wonderful!” The Dowager Duchess exclaimed, clasping her hands in delight. “We will make you the prettiest girl at the ball. No man will be able to resist you.” Marybeth saw Felix’s jaw tighten at his mother’s words, but he said nothing. “No go on, my dear, while we select a dress and see what alterations might need to be made. When we are done, Marybeth will come and find you.”
“Very well,” Felix answered, bowed to his mother, and left the room.
Marybeth swallowed the lump in her throat and turned back to face the pile of dresses upon the bed. The Dowager Duchess sorted through the dresses glancing up at Marybeth periodically to compare coloring. At the bottom of the pile was a stunning lilac gown that glistened in the sunlight from the window. “Oh,” Marybeth breathed. She had never seen a more beautiful garment.
“This one,” the Dowager Duchess nodded, satisfied that she had found the perfect dress. Mrs. Snow picked the ball gown up and placed it against Marybeth’s frame. “Try it on, dear,” the Dowager Duchess instructed, motioning for her to do as bid.
Marybeth did as instructed with Mrs. Snow’s help. “It is beautiful,” Marybeth exclaimed running her hands over the smooth purple fabric.
“It is Indian silk. I had it made from fabric my brother sent me. He always said the color made my green eyes shine.” The Dowager Duchess spoke of her brother with affection.
“I could not possibly wear something of such sentimental value,” Marybeth declined, attempting to remove the garment before anything bad could happen to it.
“Nonsense. You will wear it and look lovely doing so. Mrs. Snow will see that it is ready for you when the time comes and will help you with your hair. For now, you may remove it and go along to find Felix for your dancing lesson.”
Marybeth did as instructed and removed the dress, handing it back to Mrs. Snow. She left the Dowager Duchess’s bedchamber in search of Felix and found him in the library. He was sitting at the desk pouring over a set of ledgers. “I am here for my dancing lesson,” she announced from the open doorway.
Felix looked up and smiled. “And yet you look less than pleased about it.”
“It is an intimate thing to dance with a man.”
“It can be, yes,” he nodded in agreement. “Or it can mean nothing at all.”
“And does it mean nothing?”
“You already know the answer to that question.”
“As you already know the reason why I would be less than pleased.”
Felix sighed and closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them, the pain he felt clear for her to see. “Yes, I do.”
“My apologies,” she murmured, moving forward into the room. “I did not intend to make this any more difficult than it will already be.”
Felix attempted a smile. “I simply wish to make it as pleasantly appropriate a time as I am able.”
“Yes, of course. That is, of course, best. ‘Tis only my own foolishness that has me in such a state. Please instruct me.” Marybeth gestured toward the open area in the middle of the room.
Felix moved forward and swept her up into his arms. He moved so fast that Marybeth had nary a moment to breath before her hand rested on his chest above his heart. She could feel the steady beat of it beneath her palm and closed her eyes for the briefest moment to enjoy the comfort it brought her. She breathed in and out slowly in an effort to calm her own racing heart. Felix removed her hand from his chest and held it in his, his other hand moving around to encircle her waist.
“Place your other hand on my shoulder,” he instructed. Marybeth slid her free hand up his arm to his shoulder region and allowed it to rest upon the hard sinew of his broad muscular frame. “This is what is known as the German waltz.” He pulled her close against his body and began to move them across the floor.
“This dance is most intimate,” Marybeth noted, blushing at the thoughts that floated through her own mind at his nearness.
“Yes, it is,” he replied looking down into her eyes.
“And this sort of behavior is permitted in polite society?” she asked in surprise.
Felix chuckled. “Yes, it is.”
