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T he musicians began another number, and William remained against the wall to watch the dance.

He knew he couldn’t afford to stay over here for long—eventually, he would be noticed, and he would certainly draw attention.

He would permit himself to remain here for two dances, no more, he decided firmly.

Then he would go and collect Arabella, and the two of them would rejoin the festivities.

“I hadn’t expected to see you tonight,” said a familiar voice with just a hint of mirth.

William glanced to his left. “Lord Feverton,” he said.

Matthew Andrews, Marquess of Feverton, closed the distance between the two of them. He had a half-empty drink in his hand, and as he reached the table, he downed it quickly and exchanged the empty glass for a replacement. “There has been betting going around, you know,” he observed.

“I can’t pretend that surprises me,” William said sourly. “The gossips always find something. Let me guess—betting on what kind of gown my wife would wear? Whether she would show up in something modern or something out of fashion?”

“Oh, I couldn’t possibly guess what the ladies have been talking about,” Matthew replied with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Among the gentlemen, all the talk has been about whether you and that wife of yours were going to show up at all. And now, it seems you have.”

“She wanted to come.”

“And you wanted to please her,” Matthew pointed out with a smile. “I had a feeling this was going to happen, you know. I had a feeling that as soon as you were married, no matter what you said on the subject, you would begin to feel affection for your wife.”

William frowned and looked away. “We’re not discussing this.”

“Because you know I’m right?”

“I said, we aren’t discussing it.” The thought of continuing the conversation was unbearable when he knew perfectly well that Arabella didn’t return his affections. She had been in tears over the fact that he’d given her a present for heaven’s sake. Even now, she didn’t want to be married to him.

He looked out across the dance floor. She really was lovely in the new gown he had bought for her—he was happy she’d elected to wear it.

He knew she hadn’t had to do that. It flattered her frame.

The length was perfect, and it was only now that he recognized she’d been going around in gowns that were too short for her.

It must have been a part of the lifestyle she had been forced into by her father’s meager finances.

She’d had to wear the same thing over and over until it had been nearly falling apart from use—and until she had grown much too tall for it.

He should have stayed with her instead of walking away from her.

But when he thought about going back, he couldn’t bring himself to face her. What if she looked at him with pity now that she knew about his past? What if she could never see him the same way again?

I shouldn’t have told her about Father .

His only hope was that something would distract her, force her to forget the conversation the two of them had just had.

And then—as if summoned by his wish—something did.

A young gentleman—younger than William but almost certainly older than Arabella—appeared. He bowed over her hand.

William simmered. “Who is that man?” he demanded.

Matthew peered in the direction he was looking. “Lord Marbury.”

“I’ve never even heard of him.”

“He’s new to his title. The son of the late Earl of Marbury.”

“I’ve never heard of him either.”

Matthew shrugged. “He kept to himself for the most part. He wasn’t one to frequent balls. I’m not surprised you never met him.”

“Well, maybe this young fellow should take a leaf out of his late father’s book and keep to himself as well,” William snapped.

Matthew looked over at him. “My goodness, you are angry. What has the Earl ever done to you?”

“Why must he have done anything to me? Isn’t it possible for me to simply not like the look of him?”

“Of course,” Matthew agreed, “but you’ve never been that sort of man, William.”

“What sort of man?”

“The sort to judge another person based solely on his appearance. I’ve known you long enough to know that you don’t do that sort of thing. You give everyone a chance. After all, just look at who you’re married to.”

“What are you getting at? What has my wife to do with this?”

“Oh, William, you truly can’t see it? Everyone knows you’re the kind of man to give everyone a fair chance.

You married the daughter of Baron Highgate in spite of her family’s bad reputation because you wanted to believe the best of her.

And just look at her now. I daresay she’s the most beautiful lady here. ”

William felt as if his blood was rushing too quickly through his veins. “Don’t speak about her like that.”

“Like what, William? You don’t want me to acknowledge that your wife is beautiful? If you truly wish me not to mention it, I won’t, but ask yourself why it bothers you so immensely. Why don’t you want me to notice that she looks good?”

“I didn’t say I didn’t want you to notice.” William’s head was spinning. He couldn’t seem to gain control of himself in this conversation.

“William,” Matthew said gently, “I’m a happily married man. I don’t have any designs on your wife. You must know that.”

William knew that he should object, that he should tell Matthew it was ludicrous to suggest he would worry about such a thing. He wasn’t worried about it. He knew that Matthew was happy in his marriage—he didn’t question that.

And yet, it did ease his mind to hear his friend clarify things.

Was he jealous ? Could that truly be what he was feeling right now?

He looked at Matthew, who was smiling at him. “I understand now,” he said. “I understand why you’re looking at Lord Marbury the way you are. He’s speaking to your wife. You can’t stand it. You think he’s encroaching on your territory by doing so.”

“He is encroaching.”

“You left her on her own, William. Is it truly your expectation that she ought to stand there and speak to no one until you return? You can’t imagine that she would.

She’s the most interesting thing at the party.

Everyone has been watching her from the moment the two of you came in.

Everyone is so excited to see her in that new gown.

No one was prepared for her to be so beautiful.

She’s always been dragged down by those secondhand things she had to wear.

And just look at her now. She’s positively glowing. ”

William clenched his hands into fists.

His friend was right, of course. Arabella was beaming. He didn’t think he had seen her look so happy in all the time they had been married.

I give her a beautiful necklace, and it makes her cry, but when Lord Marbury lavishes attention on her, she lights up. This is ridiculous. He shouldn’t be bothering my wife. He knows she’s married .

As the men watched, Lord Marbury extended his hand to Arabella.

Surely not , William thought.

But he was wrong. She took his hand, and he led her out onto the dance floor. William thought he would lose his mind. “He can’t do that!”

“Of course, he can,” Matthew said. “He’s only dancing with her, William, and if you want to stop it, you know what you need to do.”

“Remind him of his place?”

“Ask her to dance with you . Take her away from him. That’s all that needs to be done here, and if you do it, she’ll be back in your arms which is exactly what you want.

Don’t bother,” he added quickly. “Don’t bother trying to convince me you don’t want her in your arms, William.

Anyone can see that you do. I don’t know why you torment yourself like this.

If you want to dance with your own wife, you surely can.

You have only to ask her, but you won’t do it, will you? ”

“What makes you say that?”

“Because I know you. And I haven’t been wrong about anything else tonight.

You can’t take your eyes off your beautiful wife.

You’re jealous when anyone else so much as looks in her direction—even when it’s someone completely harmless like myself.

I’m right about this too. As much as you want her to come back and spend the rest of the evening at your side, as much as you want to know that she isn’t so much as looking at anyone else, you aren’t going to press the issue.

You’re going to stay over here, and you’re going to leave her over there.

You’re going to spend your evening with me instead of with her.

Not the choice I would make in your shoes, I must say, but I suppose you do have every right. ”

Suddenly, William felt that he had had more than enough of his friend.

“I’ll speak to you later,” he said, and before Matthew could object at all, he strode off.

He walked across the ballroom floor, his gaze fixed on Arabella in Lord Marbury’s arms. If he was perfectly honest with himself, he would admit that there was nothing especially untoward about the dance they were sharing. Nobody’s eyes or hands had wandered. It was all perfectly respectable.

But William felt it as acutely as if it was being done deliberately to bother him. As if Lord Marbury had seen his wife and decided to dance with her just for the purpose of bothering William.

If he had, it was working.

William came up alongside the pair of them. Vexingly, they seemed not to take any notice of him for a moment. It was Arabella who saw him first, and as soon as she did, she came to a halt and turned her attention to him.

Almost as if she knows she’s doing wrong by dancing with him!

He pushed the thought away. She wasn’t doing anything wrong. He was the one who was in the wrong.

But her slender, willowy limbs, the softness of her hair, her rosy cheeks… it was more than he could stand to see her in someone else’s arms like this. She was supposed to be with him.

He cleared his throat.

Now Lord Marbury looked at him as well. “Ah!” he said, a pleased expression on his face, as if this encounter was something he had hoped for all along.

“Your Grace. How pleasant to see you. Your lovely wife here was just telling me all about your wedding celebration. It’s a pity you weren’t able to invite more members of the ton.

We would have loved to celebrate with you. ”

He probably meant it, but William found himself incapable of taking anything this man said at face value at the moment. “You’ll forgive me, Lord Marbury,” he said. “I require a moment alone with my wife.”

“Oh, of course.” Lord Marbury stepped back. “It was a pleasure passing time with you, Your Grace,” he added to Arabella. “You look magnificent.”

And what could William say to that? She did look magnificent. He wasn’t about to disagree.

He took Arabella in his arms. She regarded him, confusion evident on her face.

“We’re going home,” he told her.

Her eyebrows shot up. “It’s so early.”

“I’ve made my decision.”

It would have been impossible to defend that decision, and he was deeply relieved when she didn’t ask him to. But even so, as the two of them left the ballroom, William had the strong suspicion that he hadn’t heard the end of things. She would question him about his actions tonight.

It was only a matter of when.