The Duke’s Darling Debutante
Page 11
If that were true…
He sucked in a breath. If that were true, he’d step aside and leave her be. His own feelings not withstanding, he wished for Tabetha to be happy.
Her gaze lifted to Claremont. “What?”
Claremont’s gaze narrowed. “Do you ride?”
“Ride? Oh. Yes. I ride.” And then her gaze cast down to the card on her wrist again.
Luke stopped for a moment. That was it? No story? No declaration about how she preferred riding astride? No story about stealing her brother’s breeches?
He drew in a deep cleansing breath, every muscle relaxing. Because he and Clarissa had been right after all. A giddy joy bubbled inside him, and his feet felt light as he closed the distance between them. “My lady,” he murmured low. Everyone heard him anyway. “I believe this dance is mine.”
“Yours?” Claremont asked, his breath coming out in a whiny huff. “When did you have an opportunity to claim—”
But Claremont suddenly lurched forward, his words ending abruptly as he struggled to keep his feet under him.
Luke’s gaze flicked just behind Claremont where Clarissa stood, her lips pressed together and her chin notched innocently at the ceiling. “I beg your pardon,” she said as she clasped her hands.
Luke didn’t wait for a better moment. Holding out his elbow, he ignored Mrs. Claremont’s glare as Tabetha slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow.
And then he whisked her away toward the dance floor.
The first strains of the waltz began, and he took her in his arms, not saying a word. They had all night to talk. This dance was just about holding her close.
For the first minute, her movements were stiff, and her face lined with tension. But after a short while, she relaxed into him, and they glided across the floor.
He wished he could pull her outside for a private conversation. Tell her everything in his heart. But that wouldn’t do. Not tonight.
So instead, they danced. And though neither spoke, Luke tried to tell her without words, everything that was in his heart.
He didn’t know if she understood. At least not until the first song ended. A sea of dancers began to leave the floor. She started to follow, but he held firm.
Her eyes widened. “Luke,” she whispered, leaning closer. “What are you doing?”
“I’m claiming my dance,” he said as his brows lifted, his voice calm.
“Oh, but…” Her voice tapered off. “But even I know…” She tried again. “We can’t.”
He chuckled. “I assure you, we can. It’s easy enough.”
She shook her head, giving a halfhearted attempt to pull away. “But what will people say?”
He gave an unconcerned shrug. “Likely that I am smitten.”
She squeaked. The sound, both adorable and amusing, caught the notice of the dancers passing by them. Her cheeks grew increasingly pink as she looked about. “Oh, but…”
He knew what her counter arguments might be. Any more than two dances, and he’d be declaring his intentions. And filling her entire dance card? It just wasn’t done. “I had the most enlightening conversation with Clarissa yesterday.”
He hadn’t thought her eyes could grow any wider. “What?”
He nodded. “Yes. And she and I were wondering if perhaps you were volunteering to marry Claremont in order to save me.”
“Your Grace,” she said, her voice trembling. “I’m afraid I don’t feel quite myself.”
His gaze narrowed. “If you truly don’t feel well, I shall escort you to a chair at once. But if you only mean to save me from an awkward conversation, I beg you to allow me to finish.”
“I mean to save you,” she whispered leaning closer. “From embarrassment.”
His heart melted. “In that case, don’t.”
“Don’t?”
He shook his head. “It’s high time I let myself be exposed to it.”
Her lips parted as she stared at him. “But you don’t like to be exposed to it.”
He laughed. “I love that you understand that. But this time, it is my turn to suffer and you, my dear, should bask in the reward of being so completely entrancing that you have turned a duke to jelly in your bowl.”
“Jelly in my bowl?” Her nose wrinkled. “Is that an actual saying?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know.”
But then her face softened again. “Entrancing?”
“Completely.”
“Luke,” she said then, and her chest fluttered as she drew in a breath. “Please don’t tease me. I’m trying so hard to do the right thing and—”
“Tabetha,” he said as the music began again. A leaping waltz. “The right thing is to allow me to literally and figuratively sweep you off your feet.”
He saw it then. A tear glimmering in the corner of her eye. “I want to. So much. It’s just that… well you see… oh drat…”
He spun her about and then, hands on her waist, lifted her high up above him. Exactly where she belonged.
“What?” he asked as he set her lightly on her feet.
“I could never do anything that I thought might hurt you and I’m afraid marrying me isn’t in your best interest.”
There it was. The exact affirmation he’d wished to hear. He’d suspected as much but to hear her say the words made emotion rise up, filling him with a light and airy feeling. “How could marrying the woman I love be anything but what was best for me?”
She coughed then. A choking sound that had his feet slowing, worry creasing his brow. “Tabetha?”
“I want to kiss you,” she whispered. “I want to kiss you so much and I am trying with every fiber of my being to do what is socially acceptable rather than what my heart demands.”
He was certain his grin was lopsided as he stared down at her. “See. You’re already learning the rules. But as it stands, what do you say we adjourn to the garden?”
“Wait,” she tightened her hand in his. “There is something I need to say first.”
He stopped, his brows drawing together. For just a moment, he worried that she might still reject his suit. But then with a beaming smile, she raised up on tiptoe and said close to his ear. “I love you too.”
It was only then that he realized several of the dancers had paused around them, stopping to watch their conversation.
“Does that mean you’ll accept my proposal?”
She notched her chin playfully. “You do know that you haven’t actually asked.”
His mouth fell open for a second as he realized she was correct. “Lady Tabetha Rutland, will you do me the great honor of becoming my wife?”
He knew that at least twenty people stared at them and a hush fell over the crowd as they all waited for her answer.
She only kept him waiting for a second but somehow, it felt like an eternity. Finally, she announced, her voice ringing through the ballroom. “Yes!”
A cheer rose up around them.
He should have been embarrassed but he’d never been happier in his life. As the music swelled, he lifted her again, spinning her about. Then, with his chin high, he announced to the crowd at large. “She said yes.”
Then he lifted and spun her again. He loved this woman with all his heart. The heart that Tabetha had taught him to use. He might be the luckiest man in all of England. Mayhap, the world.
Setting her down on her feet, they began to dance again. She’d stay in his arms the rest of the night and the rest of his life.
Forever.
Epilogue
Two weeks later…
Tabetha had a plan.
With a quick glance over her shoulder, she checked to see how far behind her sisters had fallen. She grinned. Far enough. “This way,” she called to Luke, who galloped on his horse beside her.
She took a side path that curved and twisted as her betrothed laughed from behind. “Should I be concerned that you are leading us astray?”
She tipped her head back, her smile bright under the sun-dappled lea
ves. He was teasing her, echoing her words back to her from their first ride in this isolated area of the park.
The breeze was brisk, the temperature warm, and the day...utterly perfect. She brought her mare to a halt at the base of a large tree that had branches hanging long and low
Excellent protection against prying eyes.
She turned to face Luke as climbed off his mount and strode toward her, his grin so warm and wide—had she ever truly thought him stern?
What a fool she’d been.
He moved toward her with that predatory look in his eyes, his smile turning wicked. “Are you hiding again, my love?”
“Not from you,” she said with a laugh. “And you’ll notice I’m not running away, either.”
He tugged her off the horse’s back and into his arms with a growl that sent shivers down her spine. “I should hope not.” He nuzzled her temple as she looped her arms around his neck. “You never need run from me.”
“Never again,” she promised. She tilted her head back, and he claimed her lips with a kiss that left her breathless. Warm and firm, his lips moved over hers, telling her better than any words just how much she was loved.
She hoped she was just as eloquent when she returned the kiss.
They both heard her name being called a few moments later by her wonderfully lax chaperones.
“We don’t have much time,” she whispered. “They’re trotting as slowly as they can, but they can’t dally forever.”
He dropped one last kiss on her lips with a sigh of regret. “How much longer until our wedding? These stolen moments are not nearly enough.”
She laughed, delighted that he was just as eager to wed as she was. “As soon as we’re able, Luke. After all…” She gave him a teasing smile as she reluctantly pulled out of his arms. “We wouldn’t want to cause a scandal.”
His answering huff of amusement was nearly a growl. “Since when does one of Darling’s sisters worry about that?”
She laughed at his teasing because they both knew that of the two of them, he was now the one most likely to cause a scene. Why, just the night before he’d caused an entire dinner party to gasp in shock as he’d loudly and proudly declared his love for her.
Of course, she’d repaid him in kind by stealing him away for a kiss in the garden, which had left her family exasperated and her brother asking about the possibility of obtaining a special license before she well and truly ruined herself.
But that was the funny thing about marrying a duke. It seemed that one could get away with quite a lot of bad behavior when one was titled, wealthy, and in love.
The ton had taken to calling them ‘the lovebirds,’ and when he claimed all her dances—or they stole away into the night—there were whispers, to be certain. But they were interlaced with indulgent smiles and dreamy sighs.
It seemed even the ton enjoyed a good love story.
This was illustrated once again when Tabetha and her sisters arrived back at her home with Luke in tow, only to hear Evelyn talking at a high, fast clip in the drawing room.
“We’re all anyone is talking about,” their sister-in-law cried.
Tabetha exchanged a quick look with her sisters. It was difficult to say whether Evelyn was crying out in dismay or elation, but Clarissa wore a suspiciously guilty expression when she asked, “What have we done now?”
Tabetha lifted a shoulder as they entered the room. Evelyn spun to face them and all three sisters, and even Luke, sighed with relief to find that Evelyn was smiling.
“Did you see?” she asked, handing over a scandal sheet that was filled with news about the Duke of Walton and his engagement to Lady Tabetha Rutland.
“So we’re not in trouble then,” Mariah said with a relieved sigh. “I thought perhaps there’d been another scandal.”
Darius gave a grunt from where he sat sifting through correspondence. “Not yet. It’s just a matter of time with the way you all carry on.”
“Us?” Clarissa pretended to be offended. “You’re the one who started all the rumors in the first place.”
“By becoming an earl?” he asked. “That’s hardly my fault.”
“Well, not to put too fine a point on it, but there was that business about a duel,” Clarissa said, crossing her arms.
The bickering went back and forth, and Tabetha only half paid attention as it was the sort of quibbles that happened often amongst her siblings.
Luke wrapped an arm about her waist and leaned over to whisper in her ear. “Have I mentioned how much I love your family?”
She grinned up at him. “That’s good to hear since they adore you as well.”
Evelyn interrupted the bickering by striding to the center of the room and holding up a stack of correspondence. “Just look at all the invitations we’ve received,” she said. “We’ve been invited to every social event of the season.” She sat on the settee between Clarissa and Mariah, and handed each a small stack to sort through. “We have our pick.”
Evelyn sounded so delighted that Tabetha could only look on and smile. Darius was watching his wife with an indulgent grin. “It was all your doing, love.”
Evelyn rolled her eyes as she gestured toward Tabetha and Luke. “More like, it was all Tabetha’s doing.”
Tabetha looked up at Luke and gave him a wink. “It was my pleasure.”
He chuckled softly as he leaned down to kiss the top of her head. “And mine.”
“Well, now we have the good fortune of being sisters to a duchess,” Mariah said.
Evelyn nodded. “Mariah and Clarissa’s prospects are looking splendid indeed. They can take their time and find love matches of their own.”
Mariah dipped her head with a shy smile as Clarissa wrinkled her nose. “Maybe one of us doesn’t even have to make a match at all.”
Evelyn shook her head with a smile. “You’ll have a change of heart when you meet the right gentleman.”
Clarissa didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t argue. And she was spared any more talk of prospective marriages when Mariah plucked one invitation out of the pile. “This one,” she said.
Tabetha blinked in surprise. Mariah rarely wanted to attend any events, so it was odd that she’d chosen one herself.
“Perhaps Mariah is coming into her own as well,” Luke said so softly only Tabetha could hear it.
Tabetha tilted her head to the side as she studied her sweet sister. “I hope so. But even if she never overcomes her shyness…” She glanced up at Luke. “She deserves to find someone who loves her as she is, just as I have done.”
He grew serious. “I couldn’t agree more. To find love with someone who complements and completes you so perfectly—it’s better than anything I could have imagined.”
She sank into his touch, reveling in the feel of his arm at her waist and his warm breath against her temple.
Darius’s growl cut through their moment. “This wedding can’t come soon enough.”
Luke laughed. “Funny, I was just thinking the same thing.”
Clarissa plucked the invitation Mariah had been studying and read it herself. “A masquerade.” She leaned forward to look past Evelyn to Mariah. “Truly, Mariah? This is what you wish to attend?”
Mariah nodded. “I think a masquerade sounds delightful.”
Clarissa pursed her lips. “Personally, I’d prefer to know exactly who is boring me to tears, but I suppose if you really want to…”
Darius was laughing softly in the corner. “Of course Mariah chose a masquerade.”
Tabetha grinned, completing his thought. “She can hide in plain sight.”
Luke squeezed Tabetha’s waist as he whispered, his voice dark and promising, “And so can we.”
“We’ll go!” Tabetha called out, making Luke laugh with her eagerness.
“Why not?” Clarissa added. “We should all go.”
Evelyn was the only one who hesitated. “I don’t know…” Her gaze moved to her husband. “The Ainsworths are friends with the family who�
��s hosting it—”
“Then it’s all the more reason we should be there.” Darius leaned forward, his gaze warm as it met his wife’s. “I did nothing wrong, and we have no reason to hide.”
“Besides,” Luke added. “The Ainsworths aren’t going anywhere and neither are you.” He glanced down at Tabetha. “Perhaps it’s time the two families learn to live with one another.”
Evelyn nodded with a sigh. “I suppose you’re both right.”
“Then it’s decided,” Clarissa said. “We’re going to the masquerade.”
Tabetha smiled up at Luke. “Another chance to dance with you and be held in your arms. I can hardly wait.”
He returned her smile with a wink of his own. “And I can hardly wait to steal you away to the garden.”
* * *
Thank you for reading! Be sure to turn the page for a free sample of Clarissa’s story, up next in The Viscount’s Darling Adventure.
The Viscount’s Darling Adventure
Chapter 1
As a general rule, Leopold Ainsworth, the Viscount of Ware, did not enjoy social gatherings. At least, not typically. But he made an exception for masquerades.
“There, do you see?” his aunt gestured with her fan toward a group of ladies walking toward them. “Lady Harriet has snubbed me again. She’s still angry with me because Charlotte did not invite her daughter to tea, no doubt.” Her hand waved her fan furiously in front of her face. “How dare she slight our family this way.”
Leo made another amendment to his rule. He enjoyed masquerades—when he was not forced to attend to with his family.
“How can you be so certain?” He watched the allegedly vexed matron pass by, and his brow furrowed behind his mask. “How do you even know it was Lady Harriet?”
His aunt’s reply was an exasperated sigh.
Truly, the beauty of masquerades was that it was difficult to say who was whom. At least, at a glance, it proved to be rather difficult. Which made the onerous task of recalling names and inquiring about people he was supposed to know unnecessary.