Page 65 of The Burdened Duke
William had read in books before how a pair of people might see each other across the room, lose their breath, and feel as though nothing and no one mattered but each other. He had always regarded it as feeble nonsense, trivialities that no sensible person could ever consider with gravity.
Well, he felt a little different now.
With a start, he realized that Lavinia was coming towards him, clutching the sides of her gown with something that could have been anxiety.
“Hello, your Grace,” she said, smiling nervously and dropping a curtsey. “I was starting to think you might not come.”
“Well, I’m… I’m here now,” he managed. Weak stuff. He ought to do better than that. “Is your dance card full?”
She glanced down at the card hanging from her wrist and pulled a face. He wanted to laugh aloud. Ladies weren’t meant to pull faces.
“About half-full, I’d say. I’m not used to being in demand, you know.”
He chuckled, feeling some of his tension relax. “I was hoping you would dance with me. Do you have a partner for this next set? I can hear that the dancing has already begun.”
She smiled tentatively up at him, her expression soft, hopeful, and so warm that it made him want to grin like a madman.
I love her. How could I have ever thought I felt differently?
“I should love to dance with you, your Grace.”
He grimaced. “I hate being called that. It always reminds me of my father. My name is William.”
She bit her lip. “It’s not proper. If anyone overheard…”
“I apologise, I shouldn’t have suggested it.”
“No, it isn’t your fault. It’s theirs, really,” she gestured at the room in general, her point fairly clear. “I can call you William in my head, I suppose.”
He had to smile at that. “Well, if we intend to dance for this set, we ought to take our places now. What do you think?”
“I think that is an excellent idea, your Grace. Forgive me,William.”
The dance slipped by faster than he could have imagined. It was some jig or other, and he found it remarkable that he didn’t tread on her toes, or trip over his own feet, or anything like that. She kept looking up at him, a strange expression in her eyes, and he could feel his pulse pounding in his ears.
When the music ended, with a flourish almost drowned out by cheers and clapping, he blinked around, almost disoriented.
“I have something to tell you,” he said aloud, before he could allow himself to think twice. “It’s important.”
She hadn’t heard. Lavinia squinted up at him, cupping a hand around her ear. “I beg your pardon?”
He bit his lip. “Nothing. Let us get some refreshments.”
I will tell her tonight,he decided. It made perfect sense. He had seen how her hand kept creeping up to the space at her collarbone, as if subconsciously reaching for a jewel that hung there. He’d seen how she flinched when the item was not there, and how she dropped her hand, looking foolish. It had played out over and over again.
He knew, of course, how much the locket meant to her. Or rather, what it represented – a gift from her brother, his childhood picture kept inside. He had already kept it for too long. It was high time to return it.
It was high time, too, to tell her about his betrothal. She deserved to know. She did.
Lavinia followed him, her arm looped through his, as they pushed their way through the crowds towards the refreshment centre. He caught a glimpse of Mr. Bainbridge, who tossed his head and turned his back.
William blinked, surprised at the snub. But then, it was fairly odd that Miss Bainbridge had not tried to seek him out already. Perhaps she had finally given up. He felt a twinge of guilt at his own cowardice, but there was plenty of relief in there, too.
They reached the refreshment table, and he poured out a cup of punch for himself and for Lavinia. She drank it down in large, unladylike gulps, and he bit back a smile.
“Heavens, I’m exhausted already,” she remarked, shaking her head and setting down the cup. “It hardly bodes well, does it? Exhausted after one dance.”
“I must agree with you,” he answered. “Dancing is tiring, however. How is your sister?”
