Page 10 of Beguiling the Duke
“You needn’t worry about my behavior tonight, though. I promise to be a good guest tonight and dance with all the poor sods loitering in corners.”
Verity squeezed her hands before releasing them. “Nonsense. If that young duke seeks you out, enjoy yourself.”
Lizzie smiled. “I plan to, but only after I’ve danced with everyone who needs a partner.”
Verity winked. “Now, I must mingle with other guests. Enjoy your evening. The night is young, and adventure awaits.”
After Verity left her side, Lizzie scanned the ballroom, her gaze skipping over the whirling figures until it landed on a familiar tall, broad-shouldered figure standing to one side with several older men. Matthew. Her heart gave a queer little lurch, warmth flooding her cheeks as snippets of memory intruded—the feel of his strong hands gliding over her skin, his husky whispers in her ear, their bodies joined as one.
She wrenched her gaze away, pulse racing. How foolish to react so strongly! It had only been a dalliance, a fleeting moment of madness born from proximity. Nothing more.
Yet try as she might, she couldn’t ignore the tendrils of longing that unfurled within her at the mere sight of him. She wanted to lose herself in his embrace again, to pretend, just for a little while longer, that they had all the time in the world to explore each other’s bodies.
A young man bowed before her, blond curls flopping over his forehead. “May I have the honor of this dance?”
Lizzie curtsied, forcing a smile. “Yes.” At least dancing would provide a distraction from unwelcome thoughts of Matthew.
As the man whirled her around the floor, Lizzie struggled to focus on her partner and the steps of the dance. But it was no use. Again and again, her gaze drifted to Matthew, as if drawn by some invisible thread.
Each time their eyes met, a spark ignited that left her breathless. It seemed he was as unable to look away as she. A muscle flexed in his jaw, and she wondered if he too was remembering their kisses, the slide of bare skin and whispered promises. Promises that could never come to pass.
The music faded, partners bowing to each other, but Lizzie’s gaze remained locked on Matthew’s. And in that moment, watching shadows flicker over the planes of his face, she knew with stark and frightening clarity that she was falling for the one man she could never have.
Remembering to thank her dance partner, Lizzie blinked and turned away, heart pounding. What was she thinking? This could lead nowhere good. She had to keep him away from her heart as she did all the other men she slept with. Thank goodness she was due to leave in the morning. It was time to end this dalliance before she did something she would regret.
As another young man approached for the next dance, Lizzie summoned a bright smile. “Thank you, I’d be delighted.” If she kept busy, surrounded by friends and admirers, surely she could keep her longings for Matthew at bay.
At the end of that set, she made her way to a corner of the room, hoping to rest a bit, but when the strains of a waltz filled the air, a hand grasped her elbow. “May I have this dance, Lady Elborough?”
Lizzie’s heart leaped at the sound of Matthew’s voice, though she struggled to keep her expression neutral. “I’m afraid you’ve missed your chance, your Grace. This dance is promised to another,” she teased.
One corner of his mouth quirked up. “Is that so?” He pulled her close, and she gasped at the sensation of his hand burning into her skin. “It seems I shall have to steal you away, then.”
Before she could protest, Matthew whirled her into the dance. Lizzie swallowed hard, willing herself not to melt into his embrace. But it was no use. As they moved together, perfectly in tune, she knew she was lost. She belonged in his arms, whether on the dance floor or in bed.
Lizzie gazed up into Matthew’s eyes, drowning in their crystal blue depths. His hand was warm against the small of her back, his touch igniting sparks beneath her skin.
“You look ravishing tonight,” he murmured, his lips brushing her ear.
A blush stained her cheeks. “You flatter me.”
“I speak nothing but the truth.” His eyes gleamed with amusement and something more—a tenderness that made her heart ache. “These past days with you have been the happiest I’ve known in years.”
Lizzie’s breath caught in her throat. She had not dared to hope that he felt the same depth of affection for her. That he might want more than a fleeting affair. In fact, that was the opposite of what she wanted.
As the final notes of the waltz faded, Matthew drew her close. “Come with me to Teversham after Twelfth Night.”
Joy and panic warred within her, and for a moment she could not speak. She gazed up at him, unable to even draw in a breath. “Matthew, I?—”
A hush fell over the crowd, followed by a rustle of curtsies and bows. Lizzie glanced over Matthew’s shoulder to find the guests all turned to face the entrance, where Lady Amelia stood in a gown of scarlet silk, her eyes scanning the room. Searching for someone.
Lizzie’s heart twisted as she glimpsed the pain in Lady Amelia’s gaze. It seemed the woman thought she still held a claim on Matthew. But before Lizzie could say a word, Amelia’s eyes found them—and in them, Lizzie saw fury ignite.
CHAPTER 6
Matthew froze in place, his grip tightening around Lizzie’s waist. Across the ballroom, Lady Amelia stood with piercing eyes fixed upon them, her scarlet lips pressed into a thin line.
What was she doing here? He hadn’t seen her since their heated exchange in St. Ervan’s study two nights past. He’d assumed she’d returned home the next day after realizing he was there. Yet there she stood in a sea of revelers, as vivid as the scarlet silk gown that clung to her figure.