Page 15 of A Lady's Beastly Duke
He grinned at the wild thought. But it did not seem crazy as they stepped neatly around the ballroom. She was so companionable, so easy to talk to, that it seemed like they had known one another forever.
No, he corrected himself.It seems as though we have missed each other forever and just found one another.
He grinned again. That thought sounded like Amy when she met Henry. To him it had appeared as foolish nonsense then, the wild talk of someone in love. Now he understood that, eventhough it sounded wild, it actually happened.
His smile widened as they waltzed neatly around the floor.
The cadence of the music was shifting, and he guessed that the waltz was ending, but he was not even thinking about the music; his body moving to it almost unconsciously as the rest of his mind focused on the lady who danced so beautifully with him.
Her soft hair glowed in the candlelight, her skin as fine as pearl. Her soft pink lips seemed like petals, and he blushed as he noticed her fine, pretty figure with its gentle curves concealed beneath the soft white silk of her gown. She looked up and his breath caught in his throat as her sky-blue eyes fastened on his. It was those eyes that captivated him, lovely as the rest of her might be. Her soul. She had a sense of freedom about her; as though she did not care a jot for thetonand their cruel judgments. She floated through the ballroom like a lark, barely touching the critical, hateful crowd. He loved watching her and listening to her talk. She was funny and wise and inspiring. And her laugh was a treasure.
“I suppose that’s the rounding-off part,” she murmured, and he frowned, guessing she meant the music, which was two or three triumphant chords. He nodded and his heart twisted.
“I suppose.” He bowed low and she dropped into a sweet, gracious curtsey. His heart ached as she straightened up, lifting those gentle eyes to his face.
“Thank you,” she murmured.
“Thank you,” he said swiftly. His breath caught in his throat. She was looking at him with an expression of tenderness and his heart ached. He searched that gaze for pity and found none. It was sincere and honest—perhaps a little curious, but there was no condescension to be seen. Relief washed through him at the realization. He did not want pity from anyone, but especially not from her.
“Would you...shall I fetch you some lemonade?” he asked swiftly. He had to think of something, to find some way of extending the conversation just a little. She inclined her head.
“Lemonade would be very pleasant, thank you.”
He gazed around the ballroom, searching for somewhere where he could fetch a glass of lemonade. He spotted a table close to them. As he did, he saw his mother, who was looking straight at him.
“I shall go and procure some lemonade,” Sidney said swiftly. Lady Anastasia inclined her head.
“I shall join you.”
He grinned. He had hoped she would. He bent down a little so that he could hear her talking over the din of laughing, chattering guests. She was not short—she was at least average height, if not slightly taller—but he was very tall and that made it slightly harder to hear her talk over the noise.
“It’s noisy in here,” she commented. He laughed.
“Indeed, it is,” he agreed. “Perchance at the rear of the hall itmight be more tranquil.”
They made their way through the crowd and reached the refreshments table. As they did, Mama appeared. Sidney tensed, then inclined his head.
“Mama, this is Lady Anastasia. My lady, this is my mother, the dowager Duchess of Willowick.”
“An honour to meet you, Your Grace,” Lady Anastasia murmured, dropping a low curtsey.
“A delight to meet you, Lady Anastasia,” Mama said swiftly. She curtseyed and then as she straightened up, Sidney noticed the lines of worry on her brow. He turned to her as she gestured to him.
“A moment, son. If I may...?”
Sidney inclined his head politely, though he felt dismay at the interruption. “Of course, Mama,” he said instantly. “Excuse me, my lady.”
Mama beckoned him towards the doors and then stopped as soon as they were at the edge of the hall where it was quieter.
“It’s Cousin Giles,” she whispered as Sidney leaned in. “He’s...um...not quite well this evening.”
Sidney took a breath. He knew what Mama meant. Giles was here, and he had drunk too much. Giles seemed to be struggling with drink just lately. He felt his heart twist in sympathy. Giles was his dear friend.
“I see. Where is he?” he asked swiftly.
“Outside,” Mama answered briefly. “Henry is with him. If you could go outside? Amy is distressed.”
“Of course,” Sidney said at once. He had to help his family. He glanced over at the table. Lady Anastasia had retrieved some lemonade and was standing there sipping it. He inclined his head to his mother. “A moment, Mama,” he promised.
