Page 44 of Matters of a Duke’s Heart

She was taken aback by the way their bodies oriented around each other.

It was oddly natural, knowing without question where the other would move to.

As though they had danced this dance together a million times before, surely far longer than that single dance.

The world narrowed around them until it felt as though it was just the two of them.

They didn’t speak, living fully in the brilliance of this moment.

His eyes never left hers and for a moment she saw something real, something raw within them.

Such an intense feeling of belonging overcame her that she was both disappointed and relieved when the final notes came, and the song ended.

Bowing formally then rushing to the open air of the balcony beyond.

I can’t breathe…

Stopping there with her hands on the railing to stead herself, her mask forgotten in one and the cold marble in the other.

Overwhelmed by the unexpected connection she had just shared with a complete stranger.

Either she had held her breath through that dance, or her mystery man had stolen her breath away completely.

Either way she needed the immediate relief of fresh air in her lungs.

It wasn’t more than a minute before she felt those dark eyes watching her from the shadows.

He had followed her, pausing only briefly before stepping onto the terrace beside her.

As drawn to her it seemed as if she was drawn to him.

Miriam looked at him and their eyes met again.

An odd expression crossed behind those dark eyes of his, something akin to hope.

“You left in quite a hurry,” he remarked, his voice as dark and rich as his eyes, the sound of it only adding to the moment.

“I… that is to say…” she stumbled on her words, surprised by his voice. Usually articulate and strong, words escaped her briefly. Clearing her throat, she recovered swiftly. “The air inside was quite stifling after such a dance. Don’t you think? After all, you did follow me out here.”

“Who's to say I followed you and did not intend to come out here as well?” He challenged her with a playful grin.

“Perhaps. Or perhaps you did follow me. Only you can know the answer.”

Standing so close, she could see the intricacies of his mask. The gold flaking wasn’t all that made up the lace pattern. She could make out small flakes of colored glass, lining the edges to create a contrast. The way the two met looked smooth and she longed to touch it.

“You know it’s rude to stare don’t you?” There was that voice again, startling her attention back to the person behind the mask.

“I’m sorry,” she blushed, “I was admiring your mask. You're still wearing it, you know.”

Tensing he replied, “I prefer it.”

“It’s beautiful, who is the artist?”

“I am.”

“You? Truly?” She said with some surprise, such talent was rare.

“Truly, My Lady.” His voice was slightly less tense now, though his shoulders did not relax.

“A mask, while beautiful, cannot hide everything can it?” She said, smiling playfully. Her mind wandered back to the artistry of it. Reaching out absently her fingertips grazed the edge of it.

He flinched away, pulling back as if by instinct, stepping back sharply. His voice suddenly became harsh and clipped, “Don’t you dare touch it!”

Recoiling, she was stunned by the sudden shift in his demeanor. Unwarranted at best, she had simply been curious about the texture of it. Her expression hardened, offended at his churlish behavior.

“The mask certainly cannot hide your rudeness.” She barked, turning on her heel without another word. Striding away, leaving him in turmoil rooted in the place they had been standing.

Intent to leave the ball then and there she went in search of Charlotte, as they had arrived together, they would need to leave together.

Her socialness was depleted for the night, irritation brewing within her.

The night had taken such a beautiful turn then just as quickly turned into disappointment.

Miriam had no desire to stay and resume being a bored wallflower.

Wandering through the hall she searched for her sister to no avail.

Passing one of the numerous alcoves off of the main hall she heard tidbits of a conversation between two young ladies she knew only from pleasant introductions.

The name Margaret, that of her lady’s maid, had passed their lips and caught her attention.

Sure, there were a few Margarets in their common circles, it was the words that followed the name that had drawn her attention.

“They're absolutely hideous!” one was saying. “Can you imagine?”

“No, truly I cannot. I’d break every mirror there was to avoid seeing myself. Let alone go out in public!” the second exclaimed.

Margaret had suffered an abnormal amount of face bumps throughout her teenage years and now at twenty and two her skin was marred with scars. Fury ignited within Miriam as she listened to them continue on about how monstrous the scars would be for them.

“How dare you!” She finally interjected, her voice sharp as a blade.

Instantly drawing the shocked attention of both women, frozen in place they gaped at her as she went on, “You think yourselves so beautiful?

So perfect? You're nothing but pitiful creatures, entertaining yourself with the suffering of others!

Margaret’s beauty is far beyond anything you could ever understand, either of you.

For it is not that her beauty is merely skin deep, it is deep within her very being.

It is the individual's character that matters above all else. That is true beauty, a sort of beauty you will never possess. Nor do I expect you to understand from the sounds of this conversation. But tell me. What good is a flawless face when your soul is so ugly?”

Angered for the second time within the hour she turned abruptly to storm away, continuing the now desperate look for her sister.

When she did so however, she nearly collided with a familiar tall, dark and brooding figure.

He was standing so close, yet she had not heard him approach amid her angst with the two snotty women—still staring at her like a deer under a hunter's gaze.

He too was gaping at her, only with a far different look. Judging from the way he was looking at her she would suppose that he witnessed the entire scene. Something in his gaze had shifted since their last moment together when he had been so uncouth.

Mask still in hand she didn’t spare him another look, choosing not to linger.

She swept past him, only barely recognizing the shaky breaths he was taking as she did so.

Despite the offense that she still felt at his earlier behavior the sight of him made her heart race once again.

Try as she might she could not ignore the way he made her feel or the way they had danced together…

as if they had known each other forever.

Overwhelmed to the maximum she gave up on attempting to find her sister and made her way to the foyer. Asking one footman to have her carriage brought around, she asked another to locate Charlotte and tell her that she was leaving.

Giving her the option to join her now to retire for the evening or to find her own way home later on.

I can always have the driver return for her, she told herself.

Her emotions were in overdrive and for the first time in many years she felt as if she wanted to cry.

The feeling was unsettling and distasteful.

You will not cry over some mannerless man you’ve probably never met before, nor will again, she chastised herself.

The night had not gone at all how she had expected.

Now she almost wished she hadn't even attended. Only then, she wouldn’t know what it was like to be so completely in sync with another person.

Before tonight she hadn’t even known that that was possible.

I don’t even know his name.