Page 36 of A Lady's Beastly Duke
“Yes. Yes, please,” she managed to say. Her heart leapt. He did not want simply to bow and curtsey and depart. He wished to go to the refreshments table together, at least.
“Well, then,” he replied. “I shall escort you.”
Anastasia frowned. His voice sounded formal—despite that strange, thickened quality as if his throat was part-blocked. He had been so friendly earlier, but there was a reservation in his speech that she found confusing. His gaze on her had been so bright, but now she detected a tinge of fear in the tightening at the corners of his eyes, the set of his mouth.
Perhaps he is tired,she told herself. The press of people and the blazing brightness did sometimes tire one out, particularly if one had already done something strenuous. And it was a particularly bright, well-lit ballroom.
He gestured towards one side of the hall, and she followed him as they wove their way across to it. The ballroom was notlarge, and the guest-list was slightly more generous than the space would allow, so the room was rather tightly packed.
They made their way towards a table and Anastasia looked around, blinking at the bright light of the chandeliers. She could see her parents conversing in one corner of the room and she felt her stomach twist a little guiltily. Her father would be angry if he saw her with the duke—but then he had not explicitly forbidden her from dancing with him, so she was not really doing anything wrong.
“Lemonade, my lady?” The duke sounded, again, a little formal as he spoke.
“Yes. Thank you,” she replied.
He passed her a long glass filled with whitish, cloudy liquid that, when she sipped it, was a delicious mix of sourness and sweetness. She let out a sigh, the taste reviving her instantly.
The duke smiled.
“It’s good, is it not?” His green eyes danced. Anastasia took a deep breath. He was so handsome when he smiled. The scars were just as noticeable as ever, but the strange thing was that she had stopped noticing them. She was aware of them—she could not deny that, as they were part of his face, part of the things that made him himself. And yet they were not disfiguring anymore. They were arresting, unusual, even interesting. They were one of his features and, as such, they were dear to her.
She froze in amazement. He was dear to her. More than dear. He was handsome and funny and kind and intelligent andsimply seeing him made her heart soar.
I am falling in love,she realized dizzily.
She beamed up at him, the joy of that realization like wings that lifted her off the floor, that set her soul dancing a waltz. He gazed at her in absolute astonishment, and then a grin blossomed on his face.
“A fine evening, is it not?” he asked. His voice was light and joyful, and it made her grin wider.
“Yes. A wonderful evening,” she sighed.
He gazed out over the ballroom, and she stared out too, watching the people talking, hearing the happy, joyful chatter and the sound of the quartet tuning in a discordant and yet beautiful shimmer of notes. The candles shone bright golden light down on the scene, and it felt as though her happiness was expanding, filtering through the room, as though her laughter and joy and that of the others was all melting together into a cacophony of happiness that mingled with the tuning violins.
His smile was as broad as her own and she grinned up at him, her gaze fixed on that lovely green stare.
He leaned forward again, and Anastasia held her breath. Unseemly and impossible it would be to steal a kiss, yet part of her wanted to—part of her ached so to feel his lips on hers that the rest of the ballroom melted away.
He tensed again and she frowned as he straightened up. It was the second time she could almost have sworn that he wouldkiss her, and yet at the last moment he drew away.
It’s because it would be unseemly,she reminded herself.It would be a bad enough scandal, since we are unpromised and unwed, but so much worse given his reputation.
She swallowed hard. That was true, and yet part of her was confused, wondering if that really was the reason, or if there was any reason at all. Perhaps she had just imagined he was going to kiss her.
She stared up into his eyes and caught a look that made her heart race with longing. It was a smoldering gaze, one that called up those strange warm feelings in her because it was pure longing in itself.
He does feel it! Her heart soared with delight. It was not her wayward imagination. It was true.
Just as she thought it, the quartet started playing and the duke blinked in surprise.
“That’s the dance my sister said would conclude the program for the evening.” He sounded wistful. Anastasia felt her own heart twist with disappointment.
“There will be tea and coffee in the drawing room,” she remembered, but then she laughed. “I suppose you’ll be in the billiard room with the rest of the gentlemen.”
He grinned. “I suppose I have to be,” he reminded her. “Or the rest of the gentlemen will envy me so fully that they might come and toss me from the window.”
“No!” Anastasia laughed. “That’s horrid.”
“But true,” he said, his eyes twinkling.
