Page 90 of When a Duke Loves a Woman
His laughter rang out around them. People nearby turned their attention to them; even some of the dancing couples cast a look their way. “She would be appalled to be compared to someone well into his cups.”
Gillie shrugged her shoulders. “All sorts come into a tavern. Some bring their troubles, some their joys. Some their obstinacy. I learned fairly quickly I could never back down from whatever they brought with them. Your mum isn’t a happy woman.”
“She is happiest when she is unhappy.”
“What a sad way to live.”
“I quite agree. What have you done with your hair?”
She did wish he’d taken his abrupt change in conversation in another direction. Rolling her eyes, she confessed, “It’s a false piece. Fancy’s idea. I feel like it’s going to fall off at any moment and the hounds will rush in, thinking it’s a fox.”
“No hounds here. At my estate, however, we have an abundance. I’m hoping you’ll change your mind and join me there sometime.”
“Is it as posh as all this?”
“Posher.” The music grew silent. He offered his arm. “Ready for our waltz?”
“More than ready.” Placing her hand on his, she could hardly believe she was actually going to dance with him. She fought to ignore the stares, the whispers. There just seemed to be so many of them, people wondering who she was, why she was with him. “Why did you invite me?” she asked as they reached the very center of the dance floor.
“Too many reasons to count,” he said as the strains for the song began and he took her into his arms, sweeping her over the polished wood.
She thought if she hadn’t practiced endlessly with Mick as her partner that she still would have been able to waltz with Thorne, without stepping on his feet or making a misstep. It was as though every aspect of her body was in tune with his, as though she could have followed him to the ends of the earth without tripping once.
“You’re not quite comfortable here,” he said solemnly.
“It’s not you,” she assured him. “It’s the gown. So much exposed skin.”
“Are you cold?”
“No, but people are staring and they can see so much of me... I’m not used to it.”
“They are no doubt staring because they’ve never seen such beauty. However...” He came to an abrupt halt, released her, and shrugged out of his jacket.
“What are you doing?” she asked, stunned as he began working her arm into one of the sleeves.
“I don’t care about your hair, Gillie. Whether it’s short or long, it matters not to me.” He draped the jacket around her and eased her other arm into place. Tugging the lapels, he held her gaze. “I don’t care what you wear. You could be dressed in a shroud for all the difference it would make to me. You’re not comfortable with so much skin on display? Then we won’t let it be on display.” He slipped one hand beneath the jacket, positioned it on her back, took her other hand, and led her back into the waltz.
“People are staring even more now,” she told him.
“I couldn’t care less. Are you more comfortable being covered?”
She hated admitting to a weakness. “Yes.”
“There you are then. I am more comfortable as well. And since we missed a few steps this round, we shall have to take a turn about the floor during the next dance as well.”
She did wish he hadn’t been so thoughtful, hadn’t noticed her discomfort and then taken matters in hand to make her feel more at ease. His actions did strange things to her heart, made it squeeze so tightly it caused a prickling in her eyes. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure, princess. Seeing to you is always my pleasure.”
Chapter 23
He suspected that on the far side of the ballroom someone was handing his mother her smelling salts. That he might have looked ridiculous dancing with a woman who was wearing an evening jacket mattered not at all. The only thing that mattered was Gillie.
He’d been a selfish bastard to prod her into coming, yet he’d wanted to dance with her, and the thought of an evening without her in it was so deuced disagreeable. When had it happened that it was pure torment to go so much as a day without seeing her?
And he wanted to show her off, introduce her around. If she were any other lady, people would see him talking with her at balls, dinners, and recitals. They would see him promenading her through the park or taking her on a carriage ride. But everything with her was new, exciting, and so very different from anything he’d had before.
“I do like the gown, however,” he felt compelled to tell her. “The color suits you.”
