Page 66 of The Duke and his Hellion
As the music began to wind down, Charles drew her closer, his arm tightening around her waist. Abigail felt her breath hitch, her eyes locked on his. For a moment, she thought he might kiss her, right there in the middle of the ballroom.
But then the final notes of the waltz faded away, and the spell was broken. Charles stepped back, though he kept hold of her hand as he led her off the dance floor.
“Thank you, my wife,” he said, his voice hoarse. “For a lovely dance.”
Abigail nodded, not quite trusting herself to speak. Her heart was still pounding, her skin tingling where Charles had touched her.
As they made their way through the crowd, Abigail caught sight of their reflection in one of the large gilt mirrors that adorned the ballroom walls. She barely recognized herself — her cheeks were flushed, her eyes bright, a small, secret smile played about her lips. She looked... happy. Radiant, even.
And Charles... the way he was looking at her made her breath catch all over again. His eyes were soft, warm, filled with an emotion she could not quite name but that made her heart flutter in her chest.
Abigail felt a warmth spreading through her chest as they moved through the crowd. They came to a sudden halt, as another couple appeared right in front of them.
The woman was beautiful — albeit seemingly forlorn — with golden ringlets framing her flushed face. She stepped closer to the man as she looked at Abigail and Charles.
“Your Grace,” the gentleman spoke at last, bowing in Charles’s direction before turning to Abigail. “And Your Grace. Allow me to offer my belated congratulations on your marriage.”
The woman’s hand moved slightly to grip the man’s arm, her knuckles whitening. “Yes,” she echoed, her voice soft, though there was a strange sadness in her demeanor. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you,” Charles said simply, his tone clipped. “Lord Hawthorne. Lady Hawthorne.”
“I trust,” Lord Hawthorne spoke, his eyes flicking from Charles to Abigail and back. “I trust that married life is treating you quite well.”
Though his tone was genial, there was something strange in his voice — something Abigail could not quite place.
“Indeed,” Charles said, his hand finding the small of Abigail’s back. “We are quite content.”
Abigail glanced up at Charles quickly. His lips were pursed and his face was far paler than usual. Instinctively her gaze turned towards the woman. Her gaze lingered on Charles, a strange sadness masking her face. When, however, she noticed Abigail’s gaze on her she quickly forced herself to smile.
“We shall not keep you any longer,” she said softly, her face flushing once more. “Please… do enjoy the rest of your evening.”
She gazed up at Lord Hawthorne almost pleadingly and he led her away without further ado. Abigail looked up at Charles as the couple moved away, her heart clenching painfully when she noticed the stony look on his face.
“Charles?” she asked, her voice soft. “Is everything alright?”
For a moment, he remained silent — his eyes following the retreating couple. Then, as if shaking off whatever thoughts had gripped him, he turned to Abigail with a small smile — albeit one that did not quite reach his eyes.
“Everything is fine,” he said, though his voice remained devoid of its usual warmth. “Just old acquaintances. Shall we get some refreshments?”
Abigail could only nod, allowing her husband to lead her towards the refreshment table. Still, however, she found herself woefully unable to shake off the feeling that there was far more to the encounter than he had let on.
CHAPTER32
“Isuppose… could we go home?”
Abigail asked the question hesitantly, her eyes carefully avoiding his own. Charles looked down at her with a light frown.
“Are you alright? What is wrong?”
Concern sprouted in his very being when he looked down at her. Had someone said something? Though her smile was overly dazzling, it did not reach her eyes — and her face was unnaturally pale.
“Nothing is wrong,” Abigail insisted, swallowing visibly. “I am just… a little tired.”
Charles looked at her through narrowed eyes, though he nodded eventually.
“Yes,” he agreed. “Let us go home.”
He could not deny that the evening had changed for him, though he did not care to think too much about why it was so.
