Page 23 of The Duke’s Sworn Spinster (A Duel and a Wedding #1)

Chapter Twenty-One

O ver the next few days, the heartache in Lydia’s chest grew, and Lydia felt like Archer was slipping further and further away.

“Not that I should be particularly surprised.” Lydia’s lip curled bitterly. “He told me what I was getting into at the start of all of this, and I am the fool who went against everything she said she would do.”

She had let him in. She had fallen for his easy charm. At the theater, she had taken a chance and proven herself right. “Of course, he does not want me. He will never want me. I was a fool to think otherwise.”

Their strange distancing was cut short by the arrival of Lord Rupert, her husband’s uncle, who ‘popped in’, as he put it, to see how things were progressing with the house.

“My, my,” he said, admiring Lydia’s redesigned front entrance—the fresh rugs, the bright curtains, and the polished tiles. “Dare I say, did you turn back time, Your Grace? I can’t say I’ve seen this entrance look more prestigious than the day it was built.”

“You weren’t even alive then, Uncle,” Archer greeted Lord Rupert with boisterous hugs accompanied by loud pats on the back.

“Thank you, dear boy, for not calling me old.” Rupert laughed his booming laugh.

Lydia guided the men into the sunroom, where she and her sisters-in-law sat sunbathing, knitting, and gossiping.

“Uncle!” the ladies cried in joyful surprise. It was only when the whole family sat down to play a game of whist that Archer finally relaxed and opened up. With a pang, she realized this openness had nothing to do with her—it was all to do with his uncle.

Lydia reached into a small drawing desk beside her and pulled out a deck of cards. They laughed and joked as they played.

“Ha!” Juliet let out an exhausted laugh. “If we carry on like this, I fear my sides will cramp up.”

“Good,” Lord Rupert chimed. “You can never have too much laughter in your life.”

“I’m afraid you can, Uncle,” Juliet sighed as she finally relaxed, wiping away tears of laughter.”

“Fine.” He lifted his hands in surrender. “Not one more joke shall pass these lips for the rest of the night.”

Archer asked, “Would another game of cards occupy your mind then, Uncle?”

“No,” Juliet stopped Archer as he tried to pull out the deck of cards again. “I’m in desperate need of a dancing lesson, Lydia.” She turned to Lydia with a look of excitement and anticipation. “I have need of you.”

“Me? What for?”

“Well, you may have found yourself a willing teacher.” Juliet looked at her brother, “But my own one has refused to teach me. Apparently, the waltz is far too immoral for a girl like me.”

“Hogwash,” Rupert shouted. “Dash, fire this man immediately. Our dear Juliet has no need for such a small-minded tutor.”

“Indeed,” Archer agreed. “In the morning, I shall endeavor to find you a replacement.”

“That’s all jolly good, brother, but I can’t wait so long. Lydia, won’t you be my dance partner this evening?” Juliet gave her a hopeful stare.

“I would happily be of assistance but—” Lydia began.

“Then it’s settled,” Juliet clapped her hands in joy and was about to leap from her seat and head toward the conservatory before Lydia stopped her.

“Juliet, I have only just learned myself, and I am afraid I haven’t the first idea of how to lead.”

“Bless my heart,” Rupert dramatically grasped his chest like this was the most shocking news he had heard this year. “You have only just learned to dance? Surely not!”

“My father had no need for such things. If he had lived to see my debut, he would have more than likely sought a husband for me through business, an attempt at a merger, I would think. And, to him, dancing was a useless skill that would not enhance or excel a business venture.”

“My dear girl, you are not a tool for business,” Rupert sympathized. “You should be allowed to do whatever brings you joy. Dance if you want to dance. Paint if you want to paint.”

What are your dreams? Why had he asked her about her dreams and then pulled back. Her eyes found Archer’s, and she wondered if he was thinking the same thing.

Rupert’s next words pulled her attention away from Archer. “Dress up like a man if that is what makes you happy.” He winked at Cora, who flushed a deep shade of scarlet.

“I beg your pardon?” Lydia laughed as everyone else looked at Cora. “You cannot be serious.”

“Is that a problem?” Cora crossed her arms.

Understanding dawned on Lydia as she realized what the similarities between Archer and Cora meant. “You are the rake!”

Cora gave her a smile that was part utter embarrassment, part pride, and part confusion. “I wouldn’t say I am really a rake. I’m just… I like the freedom that comes with being seen as one.”

“You won’t tell anyone, will you? I mean anyone else.” Cora glared at her gathered family members. “I really have been on my best behaviour. I had no wish to make you look bad.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Lydia said squeezing her sister-in-law’s hand.

“Well, I still need to learn how to waltz,” Juliet pouted.

“I will teach you Jules, but I refuse to be the only ones dancing.” Cora gave everyone a look.

“I for one, am too sozzled for the waltz. Besides, it is a young man’s dance. I shall play the piano.” Rupert stumbled over to the piano and began to play a lively waltz surprisingly well.

Lydia swallowed and looked at Archer. His expression was dark.

They had not been close to one another since that night.

“You do not have to—” Lydia began, but Juliet rushed forwards.

“Oh please. You know how much I want to learn, and Cora is finally in a helpful mood. It is only one dance. And you have already danced together.”

Lydia saw the muscles in Archer’s throat move.

“Fine,” he drowned his drink in one gulp.

Rupert began playing again, but this time, the tune was lighter, more ethereal. As though he were playing for a garden of fairies.

Archer elegantly drew his left foot forward, pressing his torso to hers, leaning her back ever so slightly. She could feel every muscle in his body tense up with how closely they were molded together. And then they began to dance.

It was not like when they had danced before. This time, it was as though their bodies had melded, that rather than being two dancers they were one.

Archer rested the side of his head against her and whispered softly in her ear, “One, two, three. One, two, three.” He took her around the room in a quick box step.

“You really are an excellent dancer,” Lydia complimented.

“It’s all about leading and following. And this time… this time….” He swallowed. “… there is trust.”

Lydia’s heart beat in time to the music, and a thrill of excitement shot through her body as Archer spun her away from him, letting her go and then pulling her back against him. The world spun, and she couldn’t help but let out a delighted laugh.

As the music came to its crescendo, Archer dipped expertly. He was breathing hard, as was she. Lydia could not tell if the sound of a beating heart was hers or his.

“You are a dancer now, my darling.”

The words sent small butterflies twirling around in her stomach, a feeling she was all too familiar with. However, she suddenly felt a cold chill sweep through the room as everyone froze.

What effect the wine had had on her husband quickly dissipated, and like waking from a dream, he had the look of a rude awakening on his face. He pulled Lydia up abruptly and stepped back.

“I’ll leave you ladies to practice,” he said shaking his head. He marched out of the conservatory with his uncle fast on his heels.

“What was all that about?” Lydia asked to no one in particular.

No one met her gaze. Juliet began fussing with the glasses. Lydia strode towards Cora, knowing that she was the one who would give her an answer.

“Why is everyone behaving as though we have committed a great sin?” Lydia asked looking towards the door her husband had disappeared from.

Lady Cora responded quietly, “Darling was always Father’s pet name for Mother.”