Page 59 of Matters of a Duke's Heart
“A toast—to finally seeing such a stunning couple look happy,” he offered. “And for the duchess, for bringing my friend out of hiding after many years.”
Reluctantly, Spencer clinked his glass against the two of theirs, and they all drank.
“Your Grace, I wanted to formally ask if it would be most uncomfortable for you if I asked Lady Daphne to dance.”
Felicity smiled. “I am certain she will be delighted and accept, so I have no qualms. As I told His Grace, as long as my sister is happy then I am happy for her.”
Lord Wexley’s face brightened. “Excellent. I might have to steal her from Lord Graham, I hear.”
“Ah, well…” Felicity covered her mouth. “I should not really say, but between you and I, my sister fears Lord Graham has a wandering eye, and I do believe it is breaking her connection alittle with him, so it should not be a hard feat for you to whisk her away from him.”
With a satisfied grin, Lord Wexley gave her a nod of thanks and sauntered off. Before she could turn around toward Spencer, he filled her vision, already offering his hand. “I do believe I promised my wife a dance.”
“Ah, it is a promise now?” Felicity teased. “It is not simply expected.”
“With us? Nothing is to be expected.” Spencer winked at her in such a way that her legs weakened and her stomach swooped pleasantly as he guided her to the dancefloor. Felicity tried not to notice who was around them, who watched, though when she did she found herself only faced with happy smiles rather than the usual gossip and whispers. Spencer took her hand and pulled her close to him as he dipped her into the start of a waltz.
They found their footing with one another, and Felicity thought about how far she had come from being the lady who pretended to have an injured ankle to avoid dancing, to now gliding over the dancefloor in front of the ton, in the arms of her husband.
“I am not used to this,” Spencer murmured in her ear. “They are looking at me as if they are impressed. I ought to not care about their opinion, for Heaven knows I have not for all these years, but… I cannot help it. I like that they seem to approve of what they see when they look at you and me.”
“I like it too,” Felicity assured him, tilting her head up to meet his eyes. It sent a shock through her as it did every time, and she listened to that thrumming of her heart beating wilder and wilder. Perhaps Daphne and Lord Wexley were right. She had thought of the word love herself often enough; perhaps it truly was time to admit it aloud.
Feeling ever so weightless, Felicity danced with her husband, and she tilted her head back, letting her hair stream out behind her. For a moment, she truly was nothing but air, in the arms of a man she hadn’t expected to find such a life with, but had.
And he looked at her as though he felt the same way. Back and forth, they moved in sync with one another, their eyes never straying far.
Once the dance was over and they parted, Spencer made a comment about needing to meet with a lord he saw. Felicity nodded, thinking that Daphne would find her soon enough. She wandered over to the drinks table where wine and champagne were set up.
“A fruity raspberry flavor that bursts on one’s tongue, no?”
Felicity went cold at the sound of Lord Radcliffe’s voice. Slowly, she turned to face him, finding his smile already on her. The last time they had spoken he had raved like a lunatic, claiming to be in love with her, threatening to turn his sights onto her sister.
He had implied things about the attention she received, and he had so thoroughly insulted her that she had fled from him.
Yet now, he simply cocked his head and said, “Hello, Your Grace.”
Felicity immediately did not trust the politeness. Men like Lord Radcliffe did not think they owed politeness to anybody, not even a duke and duchess. He was dressed in his usual green tailcoat, and where, upon their first meeting, Felicity may have thought it was elegant and handsome, now it looked sickly, and she was certain it gave his skin a green tinge, too.
“Hello, Lord Radcliffe.”
“I got your preferred wine correct, did I not?”
She hesitated. “You did.”
“Ah, good. It is good to know for the events I shall hold where you will surely be a guest of honor as my relative.”
Felicity nearly dropped the glass of wine she had reached for. “Do excuse me, Lord Radcliffe, but you are mistaken. There is no world in which we will be related, for you are getting ahead ofyourself. If you mean to suggest you will marry Lady Daphne, it will not happen. She will not agree, nor will my father.”
“Your mother has a soft touch for me.”
Felicity smiled a little too wide. “Do not be flattered, my mother has a soft touch for any man she thinks can help her daughters in society. She means well, but her favor is easily given yet offers no impressive boast.”
His eyes narrowed, and he stepped closer. Felicity stepped back into the table, only comforted by the fact that he would not do anything so publicly, but fear struck through her. She had been scared in the gardens, but while he had kept his words deceptively polite at first, the real truth lay in his eyes. They burned with insult and anger, and she couldn’t look at him for longer than a second.
“Listen to me, Your Grace,” Lord Radcliffe sneered. “I will be marrying Lady Daphne, and with you sequestering yourself out in the countryside, how can you possibly hope to stop her agreeing under… duress, perhaps? And your father… a kind but firm gentleman who is easily swayed, I am sure. I have money, Your Grace, and you know very well that money can make the entire ton turn in any man’s favor.”
“Yet you appear awfully desperate for a man with money,” she whispered, and she had no knowledge of Lord Radcliffe’s truefinancial situation, but she saw how his expression flickered, as if guilty.
