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Of course, no one else sees it that way. There’s nothing wrong with a man embracing his wife…unless it’s us.

“I didn’t want him to hit you,” he explained gruffly. “That man who was reaching over. I thought he was going to run into you.”

“He wasn’t anywhere near me, Sampson.”

Sampson hummed noncommittally. She was right, of course, but he couldn’t bring himself to admit it aloud, because that would be admitting that his impulse to pull her close had some other element to it. He wasn’t ready to explore that idea.

“You didn’t see him as well as I did,” he said gruffly. “I do think he was too close to you.”

“Well, it’s lucky I didn’t spill my drink.” She’d managed to hold the glass upright. “That would have really set people talking. As if they aren’t already doing enough of that.”

“Are they?” He pretended not to have noticed.

She closed her eyes briefly. “Every time I look in any direction, I see someone whispering behind their hand. I can only guess at what they might be saying. I suppose I probably don’t really want to know. But it does make me nervous to see it. I feel as if I’m already falling short of expectations.”

“You aren’t,” he assured her. “Not at all.”

“How can you know that? You don’t know what people are saying.”

He put his hands on her shoulders and was gratified when she leaned into the touch, her eyes focused on his. It was as though they had carved out a little space that belonged only to the two of them. No one else in the room seemed to matter.

“We knew people were going to talk,” he reminded her. “We knew that from the start. The fact that they’re doing it doesn’t mean you’ve gone wrong. They’d be talking about us even if we had been completely perfect all evening. The point isn’t to silence them. It’s to try to give them something flattering to talk about.”

“And what if that’s not what’s being said?”

“It is,” he assured her. “No one could be anything but flattering about you, the way you look tonight. The way you’ve carried yourself. It would be impossible to find anything negative to say.”

She gazed at him, her eyes wide and bright. “Do you really think so?”

“Of course, I do,” he said firmly. “You are my duchess, Amanda, and you are exactly as I would have wished. Now, if you want to give these gossips something to wag their tongues about, come and join me on the dance floor. That ought to get them whispering.”

A smile broke across her face. “All right,” she agreed. “Let’s dance, then.”

This time, when he took her arm, it was with thought and intention. He noted the whispers that followed them as he led her onto the dance floor, and rather than disregard them as he had before, he forced himself to view them as a good thing.

They’re talking about us. About how happy we are, and how beautiful she is.

She needs me to know that so that she can know it too.

CHAPTER 24

“They’re still staring,” Amanda murmured.

She could feel everyone’s eyes on her. Even though it had been her idea to come to this ball, she was beginning to regret it. It was so hard to stand here in front of everyone and pretend she didn’t know that they were looking at her, talking about her, coming up with stories that might or might not reflect the truth. The urge to go around the room, listen to every conversation, and add her own version of things to the telling was almost unbearable.

Sampson held her gaze. “Don’t look at them,” he said quietly. “Look at me. Just keep your eyes on me.”

They fell into the steps of the dance. It didn’t come easily to Amanda. She’d never been a strong dancer. But that might have been a good thing, because dancing well required her to keep her focus on her footwork, and that meant she couldn’t pay quite as much attention to what was going on around her. The coordination required to get the steps right while keeping her eyes on Sampson rather than on her own feet was more than she’d bargained for.

It also kept her focus off the fact that she was in Sampson’s arms. That was harder to ignore. His hand on her waist, the nearness of his face…once or twice, she almost forgot herself and stopped dancing entirely. Counting steps let her ignore her racing heart and the heat spreading across her skin.

After a few moments, the movement got easier, and she relaxed a bit.

Sampson must have noticed, because he smiled. “There,” he murmured. “It isn’t so bad, is it?”

“I guess it isn’t,” she said. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m getting so carried away today.”

“It’s a big moment,” he said. “Presenting yourself as a duchess for the first time. This is the first time I’ve been to a big event as a duke, too, unless you include our wedding.”