Page 79 of Duke of Emeralds
She looked at him, trying to gauge the angle of the smile. Was it a joke? Or did he mean something more?
“You want me to be noticed,” she said. “You want everyone at the ball to stare.”
He nodded unapologetically. “My Duchess will bring life to that ballroom if it’s the last thing I do.”
CHAPTER 33
Hester took a deep breath as the air around them seemed to slow. A hundred pairs of eyes turned in her direction.
She dug her fingers into Thomas’ arm, desperate for something to anchor her as they moved through the Duchess of Eldenham’s ballroom. “They are staring at us,” she said.
Thomas didn’t break stride. If anything, he stood taller, his head held at a regal angle. He leaned in, just enough for her to feel the vibration in his chest. “How can they not stare at you, Hester?” he said.
She could have withered him with a glare, but she looked up, startled, and in that instant, she saw he meant every syllable. It should have embarrassed her, but instead, a current ran through her chest, followed by a dizzying, breathless lightness.
He seems proud of me. Truly proud.
Thomas steered her through the press, and Hester could feel the attention as people craned their necks to see. She caught Anna and Fiona in the crush, their mouths gone round as dinner plates, and beside them, Nancy actually fanned herself and winked. The entire room seemed to part for them as if by royal command.
“Lord, what have you done to me,” Hester muttered, scanning the faces.
“Only what any good husband would do,” Thomas replied, the humor so subtle she nearly missed it. “You’re a force tonight, Duchess.”
She opened her mouth to rebuff him, but just then Marquess of Alderton and his wife appeared. Lady Alderton’s eyes went comically wide then immediately narrowed into delighted mischief.
“Devil take me,” Lady Alderton said, approaching at speed, “if that is not the most spectacular entrance of the year. Your Grace, I salute you.”
Hester let herself be swept into the greeting. “I thought you were still in the country,” she said.
Lord Alderton clapped Thomas’ shoulder. “We were, but my wife threatened to poison the gamekeeper if I did not bring her back in time for this ball.”
“He underestimates the power of social necessity. I’d have dragged him back by his toes if need be.” Lady Alderton laughed.
They exchanged a quick chat before the Aldertons left, and Thomas pulled her closer. “You are managing admirably,” he murmured.
“If you throw me to the wolves, you’ll find I bite back,” she replied, but it had none of the venom she’d intended.
Thomas’ gaze traveled and settled briefly on her lips then traveled upward with careful deliberation. The room was full, every possible nook occupied, yet he looked at her as if they were alone in the center of a deserted cathedral. It made her feel exposed and invulnerable at once.
He offered his arm. “Walk with me?”
Hester acquiesced, weaving through the crowd, and the tension within her eased just a little. Her heart sped as she recognized the opening strains of the waltz. She wasn’t a terrible dancer, but she wasn’t especially good, either. And she realized she had never danced with her husband in London.
“We could always run for the card room,” she said, eyeing the far corner with longing.
Thomas smirked. “Not tonight, Duchess. Tonight, you must let them stare. And, if you’re feeling generous, maybe even let them envy.”
She was about to retort, but Thomas pulled her into the orbit of the floor, catching her hand in his, the press of his palm both reassuring and possessive. The red dress glowed in the candlelight, every thread of embroidery catching fire, every turn amplifying her color until she felt herself a burning brand.
As they moved to the center, a nearby knot of matrons gossiped openly—deliberately. Hester caught the words “ostentation,” “bought her title,” and “parading like the Queen of England herself.”
Thomas’s jaw locked. Hester squeezed his hand, meaning it as a warning, but he broke from their dance path and addressed the ladies.
“Excuse me, ladies,” he said, “but if I may offer an observation, it is a rare man whose wife can outshine the crown jewels all on her own merit. Perhaps there is a lesson to learn here, ladies.” His tone was so polite, the venom barely registered, but the implication was evident.
The first matron bristled, and her lips thinning to thread. The second blushed. The third, clearly the leader, looked as if she would combust.
Hester wanted to cheer, but she played the part of the decorous spouse, dipping her head in a show of humility.
