Page 31

“ T here you are, dear! Come meet my newest friend.” Helena waved Verity over while accepting a glass from her. “Lord Duncan, this is Lady Verity Northcott, the Duchess of Halewood.”

The man hardly spared Verity a glance, at first. Then, he did a double-take and his eyes widened in surprise.

“Your Grace,” he greeted. “What a pleasant surprise.”

Verity glanced over the short man’s head at her friend. “I do hope it is a pleasant surprise. A pleasure to meet you, Lord Duncan.”

“Viscount,” he offered proudly, his eyes shining.

He couldn’t be much older than her, though he had terribly thin hair and was admiring the two women with desperation.

“The Viscount Wember, in fact. I do apologize. I did not expect to be so blessed, er, with the presence of two beautiful ladies. And is your… your Duke around?”

Something about him still felt unsettling, especially with the looks Helena was giving her. Verity couldn’t quite place it.

“He is around here somewhere, yes.”

“Oh.” His shoulders slumped as he started to turn back to Helena.

“Don’t worry, my good friend,” she teased. “You will find a lady who suits your needs, eventually. Who knows? Our Duchess could be widowed any day now.”

Verity nearly spilled her drink. “I beg your pardon? My husband is perfectly healthy.”

Perhaps not in the head sometimes, but otherwise, he does seem in good health.

Laughing, Helena waved a hand. “I told you, Lord Duncan. Balls are hardly the best place to find your next mistress. It’s the opera, I say. Surely the theater is the place for you.”

The Viscount mumbled a farewell and took his leave, his red cheeks hopefully brighter than Verity’s as she moved closer to her friend.

“What in good heavens was that?” she hissed.

“My apologies.” Helena scrunched up her nose, though her smile did not falter.

The brightness of her gaze told Verity she’d had quite enough to drink, so she slipped the glass back into her free hand.

“I’m having a splendid evening. We were discussing where he might find his next mistress. Goodness knows I am not available.”

Verity shot her a sour look. “Neither am I.”

“You already told me that your Duke is hardly a recipient of anything you do. I thought perhaps you changed your mind about loyalty or some such.”

“No, I haven’t. No matter what happens, I am still married, and I will not do anything so inappropriate,” Verity told her forcefully.

Cooing, Helena cupped Verity’s face in her hands. “You are such a dear. I should aspire to be like you. Terribly sorry, I won’t send another man your way. Though I was confident you would do no such thing. At least not with Lord Duncan. What a bore.”

“Indeed,” Verity huffed.

She drained half of her glass, needing the liquid courage to carry on through the evening. It had been an emotional disaster, so far.

At least where my husband is concerned. Why did I think he would care? When I heard him defending me… my heart soared. A fool I was to think anything of it. A duke cares about his name only. He would have done it for anyone tied to his family. It wasn’t because of me.

Part of her was tempted to simply take her leave, but as she glanced down at the bubbles in her glass, she wished she could enjoy herself as Helena did. Perhaps not with the additional drinks on hand and all of the flirtations, but surely she could find a way to have fun at the ball.

“What is it? You’re thinking hard again,” her friend noted.

“I want to have a nice evening. Too many things have already gone wrong,” Verity muttered.

Nodding, Helena glanced around before fluttering her fan. It took her two gestures to lure a gentleman whom Verity vaguely recognized.

“What a delight it is to have you with us tonight, Mr. Hindred. He owns five ships now, Verity. Mr. Hindred, please meet the Duchess of Halewood. She is an absolutely lovely dancer.”

“I didn’t need your help,” Verity muttered as the polite man introduced himself.

He had to be very wealthy to have been invited here. The man showed every sign of grace as he straightened up and offered a friendly, crooked smile.

“Enjoy it all the same,” Helena replied while taking a step back.

“If you’re not claimed for the next set, I’d love to see your lovely dancing for myself,” the man quipped.

There was nothing about him that warned Verity of trouble. He kept his distance, his eyes stayed on her face, and he hadn’t tried to move too close. If anything, he was more interested in Helena.

But I would like a dance.

“I would enjoy that very much, thank you,” she replied and then allowed him to lead her to the dance floor.

Although Helena might have assisted with this partner, soon others followed behind.

Verity had only a few pauses to enjoy a drink and a turn around the room with some of the fellows between dances. Every one of them was friendly, talkative, and a fair dancer. She managed to find that feeling again, of being energetic and young.

In the back of her mind, however, she was aware that none of them were Tristan. They all talked to her more than he would. She wondered then what she had done to deserve his ire. Though they had not met on good terms at first, hadn’t she proved herself more worthy?

She had decided that the best thing she could do now was celebrate the joy that was tonight’s ball. She danced and laughed and talked with everyone who came her way.

“Oh, pardon me,” she said as someone bumped into her.

The hour was late, so everyone was in attendance by now, flooding the ballroom as the supper dance would take place soon.

A hand touched hers to steady her. “No, Your Grace, I beg your pardon.”

She straightened, blinking to find herself staring at a familiar face.

“Lord Halbridge,” he said helpfully with a brief nod. “We met outside the chapel before your nuptials.”

“I remember, though I believe we should have someone else do the introduction,” she noted.

He offered her a sly smile. “It’s a crowded ballroom. There are plenty of kind souls who could do us the favor. But it could take some time, and I would rather use that time enjoying a dance with you. Would you do me the honor?”

That hardly seemed proper. But Verity had enjoyed her drinks and her dances and similar company for the past two hours, so she saw little need in worrying about such a small matter now.

“I would be delighted,” she replied.

His eyes widened imperceptibly before his smile widened. A slight giggle escaped her as he led her toward the dance floor, and she felt the bubbly emotions rising in her chest. It seemed she had drunk enough, she told herself, even as they took their positions.

The music began, and she took the first step. But she missed the second as Lord Halbridge shifted to the side, revealing Tristan.

Her husband stared at her from a short distance away. There was a shadow on his face that made him look fierce.

Verity turned, telling herself it meant nothing. She moved through the steps with her partner all the while. Concentrating on the movement always helped clear her mind.

She put Tristan to the side as she whirled around the dance floor, smiling politely at those she passed.

And then the dance was over.

Lord Halbridge stepped forward to take her hand. “What a pleasure it was to have this dance with you,” he told her with a smile.

“Thank you,” Verity returned, feeling warm and giddy.

Then, they both turned to find Tristan standing before them, blocking their path. Verity let go of Lord Halbridge’s hand and looked up at her husband.

“Halbridge,” he uttered shortly.

Lord Halbridge hesitated, glancing at Verity and then Tristan. Tension crackled between them, leaving her off-kilter. Verity shifted uneasily, wanting to ask her dance partner what was wrong.

“Halewood,” Lord Halbridge said, before looking at her. “Your Grace, it was a pleasure.”

She took a step forward as he took his leave, then focused her attention on Tristan. There was no reason for her husband to scare a dance partner off.

“What are you doing?”

“Are you enjoying yourself?” he asked instead, ignoring her question.

Putting her hands on her hips, she forced a smile. “I was, actually. Thank you for asking. I just finished a dance with a fine partner.”

Tristan’s nostrils flared. A tiny detail, but she noticed it.

An odd feeling washed over her as she wondered why it mattered.

“Halbridge? He’s much too eager to please. And far too free with his hands.”

As she thought back to the dance, Verity couldn’t find fault with the man. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“Then perhaps you should be more careful.”

She sucked in her lips, barely managing to keep from snapping at her husband. She inhaled deeply, with the intent to berate him for his behavior, but then she caught his dark gaze.

It was like a candle being lit. A light in the darkness that made her pause.

“Are you jealous, Your Grace?” she asked innocently.

His eyebrows twitched, as if he wanted to scowl harder. “I do not need to be jealous. I’m merely… overprotective.”

She cleared her throat to keep herself from smiling. Then, she took a step forward, intrigued when he didn’t react. But there he was, meeting her on the dance floor.

They would have to move in a moment. People were shifting around for the supper dance. After all, dance partners were supposed to sit beside each other during supper.

Straightening her shoulders, Verity lifted her gaze to her husband’s as she quietly asked him, “Is there really a difference?”

“Not tonight.”

Her heart began to pound. He was jealous, she was sure of it.

This hardly made sense to her. But she was determined to understand him, at least this bit.

The blackguard kept surprising her. Every time she thought she could move on and leave him behind, he drew her in.

Like the scent of his cologne, like the glimpses of his smile that made her want to cling to him.

Slowly, she started to turn right so they might retreat in that direction. But his hand shot out, still not touching her.

“Will you dance with me?”

Verity hesitated. “The supper dance? It’s a waltz.”

But he still didn’t say anything. She searched his face, running her eyes over his nostrils and lips. The man could have been stone, and she wouldn’t have known a difference.

She found herself nodding and taking his hand.

Her body moved after his, following with ease as he positioned them in an opening on the dance floor.

Then, he lifted her hands, keeping one in his and putting the other one on his shoulder.

It required them to be much closer, compared to most dances.

She was surprised it was even permitted because it was still considered so scandalous.

I hadn’t thought much of it until now. I can feel his body heat so close to me. I can smell his cologne—a dark oak and cinnamon. He told me he doesn’t care to dance, so why is he doing this? Could it really be due to jealousy?

There was hardly time to breathe as Tristan swept her across the dance floor with ease.

Whatever hesitation she’d felt at first faded as he expertly led her in the dance.

His frame was strong and his gestures gentle, making it natural to slide her feet around.

It was as if they had been dancing together for years.

She thought she saw surprise flicker across his face, but he blinked a few times before offering a polite nod. The hand on her back was as steady as can be. Pleasure rushed through Verity as they danced, and she looked up to find him gazing down at her with that familiar intensity.

“Your Grace,” she whispered and then hesitated, not certain what she meant to say. She licked her lips before adding, “You dance very well.”

“As do you,” he murmured softly.

Tristan kept gazing at her, steady and certain. She wondered what he saw when he looked at her. Did he have difficulty breathing now as well?

There was so much she wanted to say. To ask. It was hard to remember anything, let alone her ire toward her husband or even her name.

The room was still spinning when their dance ended. Only then did her husband look away.