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As we approach the tall double doors that open onto the ballroom, I can see guests standing on the other side. No one has spotted us yet, but judging by the attention we got on the dance floor, I know our entrance won’t go unnoticed.
Heath must feel me stiffen, because he leans toward me. His scent envelops me, soothing my fraying nerves. “You are magnificent,” he says in a low voice. “Don’t let anyone make you feel otherwise.”
I flick my gaze to his, expecting to see mirth dancing in his eyes. They’re serious. He thinks I’m magnificent? No one’s ever said anything like that to me before.
A smile slides over my lips as I duck my chin, straightening up as we walk through the arched doorway. As expected, a few heads turn. Eyebrows arch. Whispers are made behind raised palms. More heads turn to look. And on, and on, like a ripple through the crowd.
But I keep my spine straight and find Rhoda nearby. I slip my hand out of the Duke’s elbow, turning to face him. “Thank you for showing me the piano room,” I say loud enough for people to hear. “It was beautiful.” I give him a curtsy and a polite smile.
The Duke’s eyes flash. Broken, green glass stares back at me, his eyes drifting down my body. Embers burn in my veins, reminding me of what we were doing just moments ago. When I rise from my curtsy, the Duke catches my hand in his. He lays a soft, chaste kiss on my fingers, then releases them.
The distance between us feels like a chasm, but I turn away from him and head for Rhoda. I can feel the Duke’s gaze on my back as I walk away. Other guests step out of my way, and I feel an odd sort of power coursing through me. Usually, unless I’m on stage performing, I hate being stared at. I hate crowds. I hate events.
Now?
I relish the surprised expressions on courtiers’ faces. I love the way they look at me, and I love knowing I have a secret that no one but the Duke and I share.
When I reach Rhoda, she stares at me with wide eyes. “Where were you?”
“The Duke showed me the late Queen Mother’s piano. He knew I was a concert pianist and thought I’d appreciate it. Apparently his family built it for the royal family as a wedding present.”
Rhoda stares at me, her eyes boring into mine. “There’s something you’re not telling me.”
I smooth my hands over my silver dress, nodding to a waiter who presents me with a tray of champagne flutes. I accept one between delicate fingers, taking a sip before shrugging. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”
“I want you to explain why the Duke of Blythe—the man who hasn’t left his estate in months, and definitely hasn’t danced at an official event since he was prepubescent, grabbed you in the middle of the dance floor, twirled you around, then whisked you away.” She flicks her hair over her shoulder, arching a brow.
“Maybe he likes to dance. No one knows anything about him except what’s in the tabloids and what old, bored ladies gossip about when they have high tea.”
Rhoda snorts, shaking her head. “Dukes don’t just start dancing at royal balls after years of standing against the walls.” She glances across the room, trying to see Heath in the crowd. Then, ducking her head toward me, “What’s he like?”
“The Duke?”
“No, your father.” She rolls her eyes. “Yes, the Duke! I’ve heard so many things about him. They say he uses sex as a coping mechanism ever since…” Her voice trails off. Anyone in Farcliff could fill in the blanks. Ever since his beloved brother overdosed. Ever since his parents died. Ever since he inherited the estate and stopped attending society events. Ever since Blythe pianos stopped being built.
I take another sip of champagne, keenly aware of how little I’ve eaten tonight. It’s going straight to my head. I glance across the room, my eyes immediately finding the Duke’s. A rush of heat spreads through my core, and I remember I’m not wearing any underwear.
As his eyes drift down my dress, I know he’s thinking the same. Replaying the past hour of our lives in his head, just as I am. Remembering what it felt like to have his lips against mine. His hands on my body. His cock buried inside me.
I clear my throat, turning to Rhoda. “He’s…interesting.” I try to keep my voice neutral.
How can I explain that the Duke is completely addictive? I’m consumed by the thought of him already. I need to know everything there is to know about him. I need to know why he retreated away from society. Why he chose to come back today. Why he took interest in me.
I need to know if he truly thinks I’m magnificent, or that’s just something he tells people. Was I just a coping mechanism during a very difficult evening?
Rhoda blows out a breath. “Interesting? You’re going to have to give me more than that. What did he say? Was he polite? Rude? Abrasive?”
“He was well-mannered,” I say, remembering the way he told me to beg for his cock. “Classy.” Especially when he fisted his hands in my hair and tugged hard.
Rhoda arches an eyebrow.
I relent, knowing I need to give her more details. “I don’t think the rumors have been kind to him. He’s spent the past few years away from this type of event, and I don’t think he particularly enjoys being here tonight.” I pause, chewing the inside of my lip. “I’d like to see him again.”
My friend’s eyes flash as a blush spreads over my cheeks and neck, and all the way down my chest. I duck my head, shaking it gently until I hear her squeal. She grabs my arm, leaning close. “He’s trouble, Ada. You know that, right?”
When I glance at her, Rhoda’s eyes are shining. I bite my lip and grin. “Trouble isn’t always bad, is it?”
We’re both giggling when I hear my mother clear her throat behind me. I turn to see her, my father, and Count Gregory standing there. I straighten up, letting my smile slip off my face.
