Page 17 of Daring with a Duke (The Jennings Family #2)

17

Felicity

A ll three of their gazes flew to the mammoth, smoothed stone fireplace where the Duke’s valet leaned, his overlarge form dwarfed by the massive structure. Felicity had noticed the valet around more often than she had thought was typical. When she had brought it up to Pandora, she’d learned the valet was also the Duke’s best friend.

The valet lifted his brows—almost as if in challenge, his inscrutable gaze locked on the Duke’s. Felicity’s attention snapped to the Duke. His smile was gone, his jaw dangerously sharp from how hard he clenched it. His blue-eyes looked as sharp as shattered sea-glass.

Pandora’s excited clapping broke through the charged moment. “Oh, that is wonderful news, Mr. Thorne!”

She bounded over to the pianoforte and plopped herself on the bench, patting the space beside her. “I want to watch you play, and perhaps you can teach me?” She glanced at Felicity with a cheeky grin. “I am aptly motivated now.”

A smile broke out on the large man’s face as he made his way over to Pandora, softening his rugged features and transforming him into something close to handsome. He didn’t have the same sculpted features the Duke had, but he was handsome, in a rough, I am man sort of way. And Felicity knew he was all man beneath his plain, tailored valet attire—she and Felix had caught a glimpse of the man once when they’d stumbled upon him swimming on the estate.

“I would love to, Lady Pandora,” he said and slid onto the bench beside her. “I just need a moment to warm up and then I will play something fitting for a waltz. Your Grace, Lady Felicity, prepare yourselves.”

Felicity stepped up to the Duke, a little farther apart than the waltz required. He watched her warily, as though she was a snake poised to strike. And perhaps she was considering her seduction motivations.

And then Mr. Thorne began to play, and her mouth dropped open. Her head whipped to the gilded, ebony piano to see the man’s fingers dancing over the keys, his entire body moving fluidly with the music. She was stunned speechless. The man coaxed pure beauty from the instrument.

A low, rich chuckle broke through her shock, and she turned back to the Duke.

“Impressive, isn’t he?”

“He is amazing,” she said, her tone breathless with awe.

A warm smile splayed across the Duke’s face, and possibly pride at his friend’s talent.

“I can imagine he wins over many ladies with that playing. It’s entrancing.”

“Not ladies, no.” He said it so low she nearly missed it.

Interesting . She glanced back at the valet. She knew her brother’s thoughts on the man. Well, Felix thought the man was an arse. But Felix thought he was delicious arse if the way he’d ogled Mr. Thorne was any indication. But that line of thought was cut short as the man’s playing faded away.

“Ready?” he called over.

The Duke nodded, his smile gone, fortifying himself for what was to come. The first slow, soft notes from the piano drifted over to them, and he took her hand and bowed over it. She responded with a curtsy, yet he didn’t let go. Instead, with a simple lift and twist of his hand, he prompted her to circle him.

He stood stock still, merely lifting their joined hands above his head as she slowly moved around him, his gaze not leaving hers until she disappeared behind him, only to meet it immediately again as she came around on the other side. His hand lowered, and with a gentle flick toward him, she was in his arms, one hand coasting over the exposed skin of her back just above her dress, the other clasped with hers.

And he swept her away.

She could barely remember the steps, his effect on her that heady, but she didn’t need to because he effortlessly whisked her around the great hall. With nothing more than a subtle nudge of his fingers, he spun her in a tight circle before pulling her close to him again.

Closer than before.

His fingers dug into her skin, her skirts twisting in and out of his legs as their feet flew. It was easy, seamless. Her body knew what he wanted before her mind could process the cues.

She couldn’t speak, but she didn’t need to. Everything that needed to be said was said with those black-rimmed, blue eyes boring into hers. She couldn’t breathe, but she didn’t need to, because he breathed life into her with every breath that coasted over her lips.

He spun her again but caught her around the waist, bringing her back to his chest, the heat of him sending a shiver sweeping up her spine. Their feet glided a few steps, her head tilted up to his, his tilted down toward hers. She was transfixed by him, trapped and terrified. And with a gentle tug on her waist, he sent her spinning in his arms until she finally came back around to face him, grounded by a stormy, deep-blue stare.

Her heart grew wings, threatened to take flight, fluttering madly in her chest. This. This was the feeling she had tried to articulate to his daughter: the exhilaration of finding that perfect partner, where communication was fluid—flowed so effortlessly that you were closer to one rather than two.

He smoothly spun her in his arms again, then pushed her away until their arms extended straight, and they paused, the melody of the music softening, slowing as if it, too, was just as in his command as she was. He slowly pulled her back into him; whether it was his hand or his gaze, she didn’t know. But instead of keeping their hands clasped together, he brought hers to curl over his shoulder, wrapped his arm securely around her waist, and spun them in soft, seemingly endless circles.

And she fell endlessly into those eyes, into him. She let go, let go of all control and put her trust in his arms, so when her feet left the floor as they spun, she didn’t hesitate, didn’t once feel as though she wouldn’t be safe.

It was a dream. It was her dream. For her life. Told in a dance.

Her feet touched back down, and he slowed them until they came to a stop as the last notes of the piece echoed around them in the hall. They stared at each other, their rough exhalations the only sound remaining.

“I understand now what my daughter meant.” His words were low, hoarse, barely above a breath. “I don’t think anyone else will ever compare to dancing with you.”

And then he left her there. In the middle of the great hall.

And took her heart with him.