Page 18 of A Wallflower Demands Satisfaction
Who says “no” to a duke?Will had gone along with Chelmsford’s obviously flawed plan and exactly what he’d feared had set in.He’d glimpsed Olivia dancing in the midst of the throngs of other dancers in various sets.He couldn’t say if she was exactly happy, but he certainly couldn’t offer her anything near what the wealthy and titled men in attendance could.
And then his heart launched into a precarious tattoo.The last interminable set had ended, and Olivia was passing by his vantage point inside the pantry hallway at the exact moment the musicians chose to launch into a waltz.The heat of the crowded event, combined with the energetic, extended dance she’d just finished, sent lavender-scented pheromones pulsing off her body.He had nothing to lose.They’d practiced the waltz amongst a dozen other types of dances when he’d volunteered as a partner.He could do this.
* * *
Olivia was soexhausted from all the forced conversation and dancing, she was ready to give up and seek her bedchamber for the night.Instead, she’d fled after the last set with the kind-eyed doctor to the women’s retiring room to regain some strength and perhaps indulge in a steaming cup of tea.
She was within a few steps of the oasis away from the crowds when a familiar iron grip snatched her away from her mission and through the servant passageway door near the pantry.She huffed out a deep sigh.“Will—what are you doing?Someone will throw you out of the mansion, head-first; your captain will find out; and you’ll lose your job.”
He placed a soft finger across her mouth.“Shhh…the music’s started.”
Without another word, he threaded his arms around hers and clasped her elbows.The music had started slowly, thankfully, for the two of them to become comfortable with the movements.Once the music reached a dizzying pace, she held tight to his strong arms and felt the wind on her face as they circled up and down the servants’ passageway.After a few minutes, a number of serving maids and footmen had stopped to watch, and to allow them as much room as possible.
Everything Olivia had been taught about proper tonnish behavior screamed through her ears until the sound finally died, and all she could hear was the music.All she could feel was Will’s arms around her.All they had was a tiny oblong circle in the tight passageway, but it felt like they were gliding along the actual polished and sanded ballroom floor beyond the walls.However, there was something about being on the servants’ side of the walls that felt right, and being in Will’s arms felt not only right, but perfect.This was where she belonged.
Suddenly, the music ended, Will rushed her back out to the ballroom, and she made her way toward the lady’s retiring room once again, a little giddy from so many dancing turns, she told herself, denying the dizzying effect a mere caress from Will had on her.
11
APRIL 27, 1830
DUKE OF CHELMSFORD’S MANSION
* * *
Transformed Upper Level Ballroom
When Olivia returned to the heated whirl of the ball, she felt somehow deflated.The stuttering way her heart had felt whilst in Will’s arms was gone.Another lengthy, intricate dance was forming out in the middle of the floor.The musicians had just returned from a well-deserved break and were making the nonsensical sounds of tuning their instruments.
She sighed and sought out Lady Camilla and Lady Alice who were taking their leisure in comfortable seats at the side of all the dancers.Lady Camilla, of course, had the excuse of age.Oliva’s friend Alice had confided just the day before that she and Sinjin were expecting another child, and she intended to sit out this ball.As she approached her small group of supporters, a dark-haired older gentleman walked up to Lady Camilla to pay his respects.When he tilted his head toward her, Olivia noticed that despite the fitness of his athletic body, there were slashes of silver at his temples.
When she arrived, Lady Camilla turned to her with a mild, noncommital look.“Miss Whitcombe, this is Baron Barclay Reynolds, an old friend of my estates manager.Lord Reynolds, this is Miss Olivia Whitcombe, niece of the Duke of Chelmsford.”Olivia returned his bow with a small curtsy and eyed the empty chair at Alice’s side with relish.
“Miss Whitcombe,” he intoned.“May I escort you to the dance now forming?”
Damn.She so wanted to say “no,” but knew that was one of the major sins a young woman could never commit at a ball, especially one in her honor.As they walked toward the other dancers, he touched her back lightly with his hand as if moving her where he wished and demonstrating his power over her.A chill coursed down her back at his touch.
She took her place and wondered whether she’d actually danced a hole in one of her slippers.Her feet ached with an intensity much worse than she’d ever experienced standing all day in her laundry.Her aching feet had made her forget another of Alice’s warnings.It was midnight already, and supper would be served at one.She was now obliged to sup with this overbearing man.
Once the dance started, they passed each other rarely, but the times they did come together lasted all the way up the line and made it possible for some limited conversation.
When they came together at the bottom of the line, he looked directly into her eyes and she thought he said, “Your eyes really are like hers.”
When he twirled her around and they were facing each other again, she said, “I beg your pardon.I didn’t understand what you said.”
“You look just like your mother.The two of you have eyes unlike any others I’ve ever seen.”
Just before they parted at the top of the line to make way for the next couple, she gave him a cold look and said, “My mother is dead.”
He laughed as though she’d just related a humorouson ditand moved away through the set.
* * *
The duchess joinedthe ladies who sat serenely at the edges of the dance floor of the ballroom.“Lady Camilla, who is that man dancing with Olivia?”
“He’s a friend of a friend.Baron Barclay Reynolds.”
“Oh, the tin man.”El recalled hearing about the man from Percy.