Page 68 of An Earl Like You
Flushed, she beamed at him. “I never break my word.”
The Montgomerys had taken a set of large public assembly rooms for their ball, as it was to celebrate the betrothal of their daughter to the Duke of Warnford’s heir. The glittering elite of London society were in attendance, and Eliza felt dazed, as if the very air had become gilded, too fine for her to breathe. Georgiana was to attend, although Eliza didn’t see her. She would have to keep looking, since she did not want to spend this evening like a wallflower.
But to her amazement, gentleman after gentleman solicited dances. They were all friends of Hugh’s, so she accepted—and found herself promised to dance with two earls, one viscount, the brother of a duke, and the heir to a marquess. One after another, they swept her away from her husband, although Eliza finally realized he was not dancing, aside from one set with each of his sisters.
“With whom should I dance?” he replied when she asked him during supper. “The only woman I want to partner has promised every set.”
She gasped. “You encouraged me to do it! They are your friends!”
“I was wrong,” Hugh said. “Encroaching beasts, all of them. I might call out Fairfield for the way he looked at you.”
Never had a man looked at her in any lascivious way, including Lord Robert Fairfield. Hugh was being silly. Still, it sent a shower of sparks through her that he would say it. “I hope you won’t,” she told him. “He asked me to save him a dance later in the evening.”
Her husband looked annoyed. “He can be disappointed. I want you.” He whispered the last, intense and urgent.
Eliza flushed hot from head to toe. “Hugh!”
“I want to make you say my name all night long,” he breathed, as proper as anything except for the wicked things he was saying as they walked back into the ballroom. “I want to make you moan it, and scream it, and beg me to—”
“Stop!” Scarlet-faced, she poked him with her fan.
“You won’t say that once I get you into bed,” he went on in that wicked black velvet tone.
Eliza knew. Even when he shocked her, she never wanted him to stop adoring her, wanting her, loving her. But now she would have to smile and dance with someone else while thinking about all the delicious ways Hugh would make love to her when they got home. “I’ll never make it through the next dance,” she said in a suffocated voice.
“How fortunate your next partner is me.” He sent a speaking look at the approaching Lord Carrington, to whom she had promised the first dance after supper, and his friend obligingly spun on his heel and walked away.
Eliza gaped even as her heart leapt. “What are you doing?”
“It’s quite simple.” He stopped, trapping her hand with his own, on his arm. “I’ve discovered I don’t like to share my wife.”
“It’s only a dance,” she said.
He pulled her to him as the musicians began tuning their instruments. The next dance was to be a waltz. “It’s not merely a dance,” he said, suddenly serious. “It’s a chance to hold you close, to feel you move in my arms. A chance for all of London to behold my good fortune in being your husband. A chance to make you smile, because you love to dance. I wouldn’t want to miss a moment of that.”
It was not possible to love someone more than she loved him at that moment. “No,” she whispered, gazing into his dark eyes. She didn’t want to miss a moment with him, either.
The music began. Hugh took her hand and held her indecently close as they danced. Eliza felt as light as a feather, as if she floated above the floor in his arms. Hugh’s attention never wavered from her, and the knowing little smile on his face made it seem as though the two of them were alone in the room. They might as well have been; Eliza barely registered the guests around her.
“Do you know,” she said shyly, “the first time you danced with me was the moment I began to fall in love with you?”
“Was it?” Interest lit his face. “At Thayne’s ball.”
She nodded. “No one else asked me to dance that night.” Oh dear—that made her sound rather pathetic. “Papa and I didn’t know anyone there,” she hastily added. “It was beautiful, but I expected to stand at the side of the room all night until you appeared.”
His jaw tightened. “You should never spend all night at the side of the room.”
“I didn’t mind.” She smiled at him. “In truth, I didn’t really want to dance with anyone else.”
A vaguely satisfied expression crossed his face. “No?”
“I danced with enough gentlemen during my Season to know why they wanted to dance with me. I would have rather stood at the side of the room.” Once it would have been mortifying to admit to anyone that men only danced with her because they were after her father’s fortune. Now it seemed as though those awkward dances and balls had been the hour before the dawn, when her hopes of a happily married future were dimmest. But tonight, when all her dreams had been realized and then some, every lonely evening was worth it.
Hugh frowned. “Why did they want to dance with you?”
She blushed. There was that forbidden topic again, money. “It was not for my charm or beauty,” she said. “Although I never had much of either, so perhaps I should be grateful you don’t seem to mind.”
He didn’t say anything for a moment. “Only those who know you can appreciate how much charm and beauty you’ve got.”
