Page 18 of The Mistress (Foxgloves #1)
GIDEON
Y et again, Gideon found himself suffocating in a crush of bodies while he waited. The Perrington’s ballroom was smaller than the Welsey’s, but their party was far more extravagant. The large production of flowers, and the tiered delicacies and drinks piled high atop tables surrounding the space were almost garish in their grandeur. And the guests, dressed in their silks and riches, were swept away in the excessive luxury. Gideon was no stranger to luxury, of course; his own home was a prime example of the extreme wealth and inheritance associated with his title. But where his home was comforting in its lavishness, this felt tasteless and over the top.
Or perhaps he was just tired of the whole Season and the ton . This was his third social event in less than that many weeks – and the ton was beside themselves over it. Nor had they missed where he focused his attentions during these events. The added intrigue of it was making them practically crazed. That didn’t stop the mothers and daughters from continuing to pursue him, however. They were unwilling to give up the opportunity to trap the reclusive and formidable Duke of Birmingham when it was before them. Luckily, his cold stares and silent judgment were still enough to discourage them when they tried getting too close. If all went according to plan, this was the last he would have to endure them and these events.
Yesterday, he had followed his instincts and opened up to Amelia in the Humphry’s garden, and he had been rewarded with her unconditional, steadfast support and acceptance. She’d seen all of him. The ugliness and guilt he kept locked away from outside eyes, and she did not balk. She was so much more than the flawless mistress he originally assumed. He thought her innate vulnerability and innocence coupled with her experience was what made her so valuable. No, there was so much more to it than that. She was a balm to his lifelong festering wounds, and now he couldn’t imagine his life without that kind of trust and acceptance in it. He wouldn’t be able to go without it. She knew all of him, and she didn’t shame him for what he carried. In fact, she had lightened the load.
Then, there was their physical intimacy, which much to his surprise and joy, now felt secondary to him in light of how she had cared for him . Yet another novel feeling, and one he was unwilling to give up. He was thrilled by how perfect they were for each other even in their passion. Her nature to surrender was the precise match to his nature to control. It’s what he needed. Her trust in him and in his ability to meet her needs.
As he paced the overly hot ballroom, still reeling from the changes in him and his expectations of their relationship, he grasped that it wasn’t just Amelia’s combination of innocence and allure that set her apart, or even the intense connection he’d felt from the start.
No. The truth was she filled so many parts of him that he hadn’t even realized were empty. That his life had been empty, and now she was making it whole.
It was time. She was ready. He was ready. Thomas was beyond ready based on their conversation over brandy at Coventry House. This one last event, and then he would pay her a visit this week before speaking with Thomas. He wanted to speak with her first, though, in private, without eyes and ears a constant stone’s throw away.
His eyes finally alighted on Amelia’s graceful figure standing at the edge of the dancing couples. He’d been so lost to his own reverie that he hadn’t noticed her arrive. She stood alone, not noticing him tucked amongst the other guests, and watched her sister and Thomas dance with a small smile on her lips.
Gideon didn’t approach her immediately. He couldn’t stop himself from taking a few moments to simply drink in the sight of her, his chest swelling with all the wonderful new emotions she stirred in him. Her heart-shaped face was free from the blush that often adorned it in his presence. Her burnished gold hair was styled perfectly atop her head, and those temptress’ curves were wrapped in a rich purple silk. He craved her like a man starved. Not just her body, but her kindness, her strength on behalf of others, her laughter, her thoughts.
He was still admiring her when he noticed her attention shift from the dancefloor. Looking politely to either side, she observed a group of young women standing together, chatting. She didn’t seem to observe, however, the whispers and unkind glances thrown her way as she took a step in their direction, her intent to join them clear. Gideon felt his feet move without thinking, knowing he wouldn’t make it in time to intercept her. The young women whispered more hurriedly to each other before making direct, cold eye contact with the approaching Amelia and, as one, turning and walking to the other side of the dancefloor.
Amelia halted in her tracks. He could see her shocked face absorbing the ladies’ rebuff. He didn’t like it, even if he understood it. He wasn’t quite sure what she was thinking or what she expected – why she thought she could approach them. Although, when he let himself follow the thought, he realized Thomas bringing her into Society and Gideon establishing their relationship in public view were both outside propriety. Nor had she been exposed to Society enough as it was to know what was appropriate.
Gideon stepped up behind her where she still stood by the dancefloor. The shock had not yet finished morphing into confusion on her beautiful face. “Good evening, my dear,” he said quickly, trying to pull her attention away from the insult she was still processing. “I find myself in need of you.”
“Gideon,” she said his name easily as she turned around to face him, and he loved the sound of it in that husky, feminine voice. Perhaps he was imagining it as a result of his earlier musings while waiting for her, but he thought he detected notes of tenderness in her voice when she spoke his name.
Amelia smiled at him, brushing away the insult just hurled at her. “What is it I can help you with?” she asked sweetly, amusement lighting her eyes.
“I require a dance partner,” he held out his hand for hers, lifting one side of his lips in a smirk.
She sighed dramatically as she considered his outstretched hand. “If I must,” she declared with false resignation as she placed her hand in his. “One does not deny the Duke of Birmingham.”
He laughed. “I should hope not.”
Joining the couples on the dancefloor, he pulled her body to his. His blood heated at her proximity and the feel her under his palms. He saw the blush he loved color her cheeks, and he had the oddest desire to kiss them. Her warm vanilla scent comforted him as he led her through the waltz.
“There is something I wish to discuss with you, my dear,” he said after a few moments spent simply holding each other and moving with the music. “In private. I would like to call on you tomorrow, but without Thomas or your sister present.”
He watched as that beautiful blush spread down to the top of her chest. Her soft brown eyes held a note of uncertainty within them as they spun across the room. “Alone? Without a chaperone?” she asked, her voice low.
He chuckled, fighting the urge to laugh outright. She, a mistress of two years, was worried about a chaperone? What need did she have of one? Unless she was still worried about Thomas’s reaction? No, he shook the thought off. After everything from this week – Thomas’s behavior, hers, their shared confidences and kisses – no, she must be speaking out of habit, understandably unused to a new relationship.
Her innocent responses never felt like a show, which was yet another thing he loved about her. He was coming to believe her ability to hold contradicting truths was simply who she was. She was a professional, but she was also sweet and pure.
He answered kindly, even as he suppressed his amusement, “Yes, my dear, without a chaperone. We must be allowed to speak freely and without the expectations of those around us.”
“What is it you wish to discuss?” she probed, dancing flawlessly just as she had during the Welsey’s Ball. She was exceptionally graceful in how she moved.
“I would like to have a candid conversation about our future and hear your thoughts on my proposal, free from the influence of others.”
He knew Amelia was a strong woman. At first, all one could see was her exceeding gentleness, but the more he spoke with her, shared with her, the things he felt with her…. It was clear that gentleness was a profound kind of strength, the likes of which he’d never encountered before.
Gideon also sensed that she was a very giving person. Another quality of her strength. And that particular aspect likely made her more susceptible to the opinions of her loved ones. In this, in her consenting to their arrangement, he wanted that discussion between only them, and her agreement only hers.
“I understand,” she assured him, the edges of her mouth pulling up. She paused, biting her lip and looking over his shoulder as she considered. “You should perhaps pay call in two days’ time. I can speak to Lydia and Thomas tomorrow to give us our privacy. They could use that time alone together, as well.”
So, Gideon had been right. Lydia was taking her sister’s place. He mildly wondered if Thomas had been waiting for the younger girl to come of an appropriate age all along. Not that it mattered, and he let the thought wander to the back of his mind, where it was already edging.
“The staff will be there, but that is unavoidable, I am afraid. Had we been in the country, we could have met at the cottage,” she scrunched her face adorably to one side in passing regret, and he pulled her closer as they danced. She hid a smile at his action before explaining, “We’d only have Mrs. Nichols and Walters to worry about there, and I could have simply given them the day off. We’ll have no such luck at Coventry House.”
Gideon was surprised. She had a staff of only two at her cottage? Why didn’t Thomas lavish this incomparable woman with riches and staff of a hundred. It wasn’t even close to what she was worth.
Amelia was watching him expectantly. So much about her distracted him.
“Two days,” he agreed as the song drew to a close, and she practically beamed as they continued to stand there, agreeing without words to the next dance.
She was looking at him with such unwavering trust in those large, chocolate eyes as they waited for the music to begin again, but he also noted something else in her gaze. Something deeper that made his chest clench. The vulnerable part of him, which belonged to her and her alone, was desperate never to lose that look.