Page 22 of The Duke’s Indecent Scandal (Indecent Dukes #1)

Chapter Twenty-One

T iffany

“See?” Sebastian whispered in her ear, pulling Tiffany’s attention away from her mother. She dropped her gaze, shifting it as he spoke to Gregory. “You look wonderful. Gregory looks like a carp just pulled from the water.”

With the way his mouth was partway open, Gregory did indeed resemble a fish on land. He moved to the bottom of the staircase to meet them as Sebastian led her down. She was nearly at the bottom step when she risked a peek at her mother again. The rage she’d seen before was so completely absent, she began to question whether she’d seen it at all.

But there was still a fierce frown of disapproval on her mother’s lips.

“That is not the dress I ordered,” she said, her tone cold and unhappy as Tiffany and Sebastian reached the bottom of the stairs. Recognizing the tone, Tiffany immediately moved to placate her mother.

“It is, but Lady Astrid suggested a blue ruffle be added earlier today, and Madame Allard assured us that adding the decoration would be of no concern,” Tiffany said earnestly. Her mother had told her at the beginning of the Season that Lady Astrid was the epitome of fashion. Surely, knowing it had been Lady Astrid’s idea would help reconcile her mother to the change.

“It is inspired,” Sebastian said, smiling approvingly at Tiffany, which took some of the sting out of her mother’s obvious disapproval. He shot their mother a curious look. “With me in green and Gregory in blue this evening, we could not have planned our attire better. You represent a mix of both households.”

He spoke true, though the mothers were not in either color. Her mother was wearing a very dark burgundy, while the Duchess of Clarence wore a very similar apricot color to the dress Tiffany had worn for her ride through Hyde Park with Gregory.

“I am very happy with how the blue looks,” the Duchess of Clarence said, stepping forward and holding out her hands for Tiffany to take. She released Sebastian’s arm to do so and exchanged air kisses with the duchess. The older woman gave her hands a brief squeeze before she released them, which heartened Tiffany. “I funded the alteration if that is the concern.”

Now, Tiffany was sure she saw a flash of fury on her mother’s face before she hid it, obviously outraged at the implication that perhaps the Bolton household could not afford a mere ruffle.

“It is of no concern,” her mother said with a wave of her hand. “I was merely startled. I know what I ordered, after all, and since I was not informed of any alternations, the result was unexpected.”

“Delightfully unexpected,” Gregory said, finally stepping forward to claim her hand. He bowed over it, giving her a kiss on the back of her gloved hand but also a wink as he straightened. “You look beautiful.”

As always, he sounded as though he meant it.

Such attention would turn any young lady’s head.

It certainly did hers. They were with family, though. Not in public. There was no need for pretense. They were not a true love match. Which meant this was what Gregory was like with any young lady. Charming. Flirtatious. Sigh-inducing. She needed to remember he had kissed her in the library without even knowing who she was, merely because he thought her pretty.

Tiffany smiled at him, steeling herself against her natural reaction to him. She needed to remember that she could be any woman to him, and he would treat her the same.

“I am especially glad for the blue, because I have an engagement present for you.” He slid his hand into his coat and pulled out a box. “Mother and I went through the family jewels this afternoon, and she helped me pick this to bring for you to wear tonight… now I understand why.”

Curious, Tiffany took the box from him. She gasped when she opened it and saw the dazzling blue and white stones set in gold and arranged on the velvet lining inside. Sapphires and diamonds , her mind provided dizzily. A king’s ransom worth.

She was utterly dazzled and utterly intimidated. She had never worn such an array of jewels before. Though the Boltons had their own family jewels, those were reserved for her mother to wear.

Not Tiffany.

Yet here was Gregory’s mother, sharing the family jewels with her when they were not even married yet. The gesture of welcome was so moving, tears sparked in her eyes. She pushed them back so as not to ruin her complexion if she started weeping.

“They’re beautiful.”

“Put them on her, dear. I want to see how they look.” The Duchess of Clarence appeared almost giddy. From the way she was standing and how Sebastian had crowded around her other side to see, Tiffany was unable to look at her mother to see her reaction, to see if her mother approved… and the inability brought her both relief and consternation.

It also meant she had nothing to distract her as Gregory stepped behind her, so close to her that his legs brushed her skirts as he replaced the ruffle around her throat with the sapphire necklace, heavy and cool against her skin, unlike his warm breath which wafted over the same area. The combination made her feel rather faint before he finally stepped away to retrieve the rest of the jewelry. There were matching earrings, a bracelet, and a pin. While she managed the earrings and pin on her own, he was the one to attach the bracelet to her wrist.

With her hand still in his, he closed the clasp, then looked up at her, and her breath caught in her throat. There was something about the way that he looked at her as he closed the bracelet around her arm, as if by wearing his jewels, he had now claimed her as his own.

More likely, that was her own overly romantic imagination… yet she could swear there was something possessive in his gaze.

“We did not bring the tiara for this evening, but I hope you will wear it for your wedding,” Gregory’s mother said, her eyes shining brightly as she looked up at Tiffany. “Did you already have jewelry picked out?”

“I did not,” Tiffany replied, her fingers lifting to trace the heavy stones now lying on her collarbone. “I would be honored to wear the set. Thank you for letting me borrow it.”

“Oh, my dear, these will be yours to wear from now.” The duchess smiled, patting Tiffany’s hand. “I never wore them. Not my style, but they suit you admirably.”

“They do.” Gregory lifted her hand to his lips again, this time turning it to kiss the inside of her wrist, right where her pulse was fluttering. Tiffany felt a similar flutter in her core as her whole body heated in response.

Sebastian cleared his throat, the sound not entirely condemning but certainly not approving either. More like a warning that Gregory was sailing too close to the line.

As Gregory stepped back, Tiffany looked at her mother, and, for the first time, she was able to see her without obstruction. But there was nothing to see. Her mother’s expression was entirely blank.

The lack of expression did not bode well for her once the others were not around, but she could not help but be bolstered by the others’ admiration. For the first time in her life, she was able to ignore her mother.

Mostly.

Gregory

For all that this was their engagement party, his bride-to-be’s head seemed in the clouds. Perhaps because of the way her mother had reacted to her altering her dress for the evening? Truthfully, though he was not a man who normally noticed ruffles, he thought the addition of the blue was a boon to her.

Understanding the vagaries of ladies’ fashion might not be a strength of his, but even he could see that the shade of green of the dress was not as flattering to her as the blue of the ruffle. And he did rather enjoy that they were wearing matched colors, the dark blue of her trim complementing the navy of his coat. He was known for wearing blue regularly.

The family sapphires looked perfect around Tiffany’s throat, shimmering all over her body. From the moment he’d seen her fully decorated, he’d had a vision of her in his bed wearing nothing but the jewels.

It felt as though every time he saw her, she became more beautiful. Because he was becoming more familiar with her? More intimate? Because he knew he was going to be marrying her soon, and he was increasingly viewing her as his—his to protect, his to claim? Or did the clothing she was wearing truly make such a difference?

Perhaps it was a combination of all of it.

Regardless, he was feeling very proprietary, especially as his fellow dukes came to congratulate them. Even though Nathanial had withdrawn his offer and not one of them would think to poach, they were all single dukes themselves. Only Drake did not aggravate his senses, likely because he was the only one officially off the marriage mart.

During the receiving line, there was one small moment of near awkwardness. His mother had taken it upon herself to invite the Littles, and he saw the Duchess of Bolton stiffen as she realized who was approaching the line. Gregory did not mind being introduced to the slightly scandalous family—he was happy to support his mother’s cause célèbre . After having been kept away from Society by his father for so long, he knew she was outraged by the idea that a family would not accept their son, his wife, and their grandchildren because he had married outside of their preferences.

Mr. Little was a proper English gentleman in every degree other than his family. Being vaguely acquainted with the Earl of Stilton and his heir, Mr. Little’s father and eldest brother, Gregory could see the resemblance in features. As his mother had stated, the wife and daughter were beautiful, though, of course, not the usual sort of beauty that graced the ton . Miss Kalina Little would turn heads with her dark skin set against the rose-pink dress she was wearing, her black hair coiled into a fashionable coiffure… but whether she would actually garner suitors with her father in disgrace with his family was another question entirely. The son, Ashwin Little, was a stripling youth, similar enough in age to his sister that Gregory could not tell which was the elder, though he suspected it was Miss Little.

Despite getting her back up in a snobbish tizzy, the Duchess of Bolton did her duty. Gregory was beginning to look forward to his wedding for more reasons than Tiffany. While Duchess Bolton would be his mother-in-law, once Tiffany joined his household, there would be less reason for her mother’s constant company. She would be Sebastian’s problem to deal with… him and his wife’s, and Gregory did not envy the poor woman who took that position and found herself dealing with the prickly dowager.

He had thought to introduce Miss Little to Sebastian and encourage his friend in that direction, which would make his own mother happy, but perhaps for Miss Little’s sake he should steer her toward a different friend. Nathanial, perhaps, if the rumors about her being dowered to the hilt were true. His mother was certainly correct that a daughter marrying a duke would ensure the Stilton clan could not turn up their nose at their youngest son completely.

Once the guests had been received, Gregory and Tiffany waited until their mothers and Sebastian had been announced before making their own triumphant entrance. With Tiffany on his arm, Gregory ignored the rest of the room, smiling at her and putting his hand over hers before they entered.

It was not all that hard to pretend to be in love with her, truthfully.

She shone as they walked into the room. No, she was no Diamond of the First Water, but he truly did think she looked beautiful tonight. The dress or the jewels, or the combination thereof, were far more flattering than anything he’d seen her in before. Her skin was creamier, her hair seemed to have more color, and there was a brightness in her eyes that drew him in like a moth to the flame.

He wanted to see that brightness more often.

Moving to the center of the floor, they turned to each other, and she looked up at him. There was trepidation in her eyes as she met his hand for their waltz, and he felt her fingers tremble against his as she placed her hand in his.

“Are you all right?” he murmured.

“Everyone is staring,” she whispered back. She looked up at him, her expression almost pleading. For all the attention that had been poured on them since that initial scandal and announcing their engagement, this was the first time they’d been at the center of an entire room.

“Just look at me,” he whispered, tightening his grip on her as the strings began the first notes of the song. He kept his gaze steady on hers, holding her to him with more than his hands. “Just look at me and no one else. No one else matters.”

Tiffany

Heart pounding in her chest, both from the number of eyes on her and from Gregory’s nearness, Tiffany stared at her future husband.

No one else matters.

It was the opposite of what her mother had always told her. She’d been trained her whole life to hold up under societal pressure, knowing she had to perform perfectly to make up for her lack of beauty. Now, the moment she was before the ton’s scrutinizing gaze, she felt like she could barely breathe.

But it did not matter.

No one else mattered.

The music began, then Gregory’s leg was stepping forward, his body moving forward, pushing her back, and she responded automatically. The hours that she had spent training came to her rescue as she moved with him. His powerful lead certainly assisted as she did not need to do anything but follow, still staring up into his dark eyes, acutely aware of the way he held her, his hard body against hers, his leg moving between hers with every step.

They whirled around the floor until there was a smattering of applause from their audience, then Sebastian led her mother out to join them. A moment later, the Duchess of Clarence took to the floor led by the Duke of Hereford. Then, another couple and another, and finally, she felt like she could breathe again as the other dancers crowded in around them, so they were no longer the sole focus.

“There, you see?” Gregory smiled down at her. “You performed admirably.”

“Thanks to you,” she whispered.

Raising his eyebrow at her, he seemed to consider something, then he raised his head to peer around. His gaze dropped back to her.

“No one is looking at us now,” he murmured. He shifted the direction of their bodies, moving them to the side of the ballroom, near the doors that led to the hallway. “Let us go somewhere that you can thank me properly.”

Now, she could not breathe again for an entirely different reason.