Page 18 of A Duke Of Her Own
The gentleman beside the duke Francie recognized as his brother. Their resemblance was striking. She swallowed tightly. Now that he knew the full damage to her reputation, what would he think? Francie bit her lower lip until it ached when he turned away. There had been nothing tender or familiar in his gaze.
“Are you well?” her mother asked sharply, walking over to stand beside her. “You’ve gone pale.”
“A slight headache, Mama,” she murmured.
“Stiffen your spine and bear it,” the dowager countess said. “Lord Beresford will arrive soon. You are to dance two dances with him. This will signal to society there is something more there, and you are not totally ruined.”
Lizzie’s eyes flashed with anger, and Francie subtly shook her head. Her sister-in-law was fiery and outspoken, but Francie wanted to fight her own battles. She would also choose the ones she would fight. Francie felt brittle as if the slightest motion would cause her to shatter. She could not understand why her heart ached in this manner.
“The duke is coming over,” Lizzie gasped, her eyes widening.
“Why?” Francie choked out, anxiousness searing her entire body.
The dowager duchess’s lips pursed, and she frowned. As he drew closer, Francie became painfully aware that his gaze was wholly on her. Alexander stared at her with such naked longing and tenderness that she felt faint. The stutter of her heart drowned out the ballroom noise.
The duke stopped before them, his presence drawing much attention in the bustling ballroom. With an air of smooth elegance, he executed a flawless bow before Francie’s mother and Lizzie.
“Lady Blade,” he said, directing his courteous salutation to her mother. Turning to Lizzie, he continued, “Countess Blade.”
Formalities were smoothly reciprocated, and then his gaze fell solely upon Francie, capturing her attention as if they were the only two people in the room.
“Lady Francie,” he began, his voice resonant yet intimate, “would you do me the honor of sharing the next dance with me? I have heard from reliable sources that it will be a waltz.”
A collective murmur rippled through the crowd, punctuated by a few audible gasps. In the backdrop of this social theater, Francie saw her mother’s eyes widen momentarily, her brows lifting in silent inquiry. How could her daughter be acquainted with a duke, her expression seemed to ask.
However, Francie could only stare at Alexander’s unfathomable expression. Was it mere kindness or more? Francie knew she couldn’t decline a dance with a man of his rank, not without causing a stir. More importantly, she didn’t want to. His invitation presented an unexpected but fortuitous opportunity. Accepting it would not only silence the wagging tongues but also confer upon her a kind of social vindication that was desperately needed at this juncture.
With a heart pounding both from anticipation and the weight of the moment, Francie dipped into a curtsy and rose on unsteady legs. “Your Grace, it would be my pleasure to join you for the waltz.”
Her mother recovered from her surprise and beamed approvingly. The duke held out his arms. Her fingers, which were lightly resting on his sleeve, trembled. As they made their way to the dance floor, the gaze of thetoncrawled over her skin like ants, but at this moment, Francie did not care. The waltz started, and they started to soar across the expanse of the ballroom. His touch was warm, reassuring, and felt so right.
“You are a duke,” she said.
“You are a lady.”
Was there anymore to say?”
“You look beautiful, Francie.”
She snapped her gaze to his, her heart shaking at the emotions brightening his silver gaze.
“My brother mentioned that you are married.”
She jerked.
“I did not believe it for a moment because the woman you are is loyal and values trust and fidelity. You would not break your vows.”
Francie trembled, but he kept her moving, and thetonwho looked so determinedly at her waiting for a mistake did not see.
The strength of his trust in her humbled her, and her eyes pricked with tears. “Thank you, Alexander.”
“Never thank me for trusting you. You are my treasure, and it is what I should do. I love you, Francie.”
This time the sob tore from her, and she struggled to keep a calm composure.
“I knew it months ago, but you seem so wounded I wanted to give you time. I was wrong for investigating you. I was too impatient, and in my haste, I wounded you. I did not read the report my brother brought, and I do not know the full truth of your scandal. It does not matter because it has no bearing on how I feel about you or what I want more than anything else, which is to marry you.”
Shocking tears coursed down her cheeks, and from the frantic look on her mother’s face, it was evident for everyone to see and speculate upon. Even Lizzie, who watched from the sidelines, seemed worried.