He trod carefully on his way to his own rooms, avoiding the odd floorboard that creaked, and wending his way in zigzag fashion between one wall and the next. Ah. Perhaps Selina was right about Louis and the claret.
She was right about most things, after all.
He pushed open the door to the private sitting room he shared with Selina. The inner door on the left led to the master bedroom, and the right hand one led to Selina’s, which after ten years of marriage still saw only occasional use. It might not be fashionable to share a bed, but it was certainly pleasant.
The coals were still smouldering hot in the fireplace. Malcolm sat down in his favourite armchair and pulled off his boots one by one, stretching his feet towards the heat.
There would soon be more light in the room than the orange glow of the fire. In the slice of window visible between the curtains, the sky was fading from starry black to predawn indigo.
He was still in the chair, caught half between dreams and waking, when Selina returned. She slipped off the light shawl that had covered her shoulders – Malcolm would forever be grateful to the change of fashions that let him admire them in public – and hung it over a chair. “Is Brady still downstairs? It’s not like her to be so slow.”
“I didn’t ring for her,” Malcolm confessed, getting to his feet. He moved towards Selina, his toes sinking into the thick carpet, and spun her to face him with a hand on her waist. “Not just yet. I want one last dance.”
She laughed and shook her head, but she placed her hand in position on his shoulder all the same. “We’ve been dancing all night.”
“And still I need more.” He pulled her closer, inhaled the honey-sweet scent of her. “You were magnificent this evening. It was all I could do to share you.”
His left hand found her right one, clasping it, raising it up into waltz position. Their bodies were pressed close enough to scandalise any ballroom. In their private chambers, it was still not close enough. But Malcolm could be patient. At least until sunup.
“And you were a terror,” said Selina, pressing her cheek to his as they began to dance. The movements came easy and natural, but he kept the pace slow. “Trust you to start a debate with Sir Martin! You two will never agree on politics, as I’m sure you’re both aware.”
“Oh, my friendly opposition is nothing to what he gets in the Commons. Besides, Martin Forrester owes his career to me. I’d say he can give me an explanation of his latest speech in return.”
“He owes his career to you?” Selina pulled back enough to let him see her eyes flash. “That’s not how I remember it.”
“Ah, I suppose you’re right. His sort of talent will always end in greatness – even though he lacked proper patronage at the start.”
“Tease.”
“Temptress.”
“Flirt.”
“Goddess. Angel. Queen.”
Selina smiled ruefully. “Really, Malcolm. I’m much too old for sweet nothings.”
He kissed the laughter lines at the corner of her eyes. “Not in my house. Or my heart, as it happens.”
She pressed her fingers to her lips to hide her smile. “Who’d have thought His Gorgeous Grace had that sort of poetry in him?”
“What can I say? It must be the claret.”
She laughed, as rosy and warm as the light now peeping through the curtains, and Malcolm whirled her faster through the waltz until they were both giddy and breathless, and the sun had risen, and at last it was time for bed.
When the man who broke Isobel Balfour’s heart returns to England, she vows to make him regret the day he didn’t propose. And what better way to show him what he’s missing than a feigned engagement to her best friend’s charming older brother?
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How did Miss Daisy Morton turn impending ruin into a betrothal to one of London’s most powerful men? Read A Duke She Can’t Refuse to watch a fake engagement become something much sweeter…
If you’ve finished The Impossible Balfours and you’re hungry for more delightful Regency romance, discover how Selina’s cousin, Lady Cecily, falls for her family’s greatest enemy in The Earl’s Secret Passion.
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Lady Celia Hartley has a problem. She must find a husband soon or risk being ruined forever.
Just as she is beginning to give up hope, William Marsden asks her to dance. Young, handsome, and kind, he seems to be the perfect answer to her prayers.
But before he can claim her as his own, they must deal with the consequences when the Earl of Scarcliffe discovers the true nature of his sister's situation...
Also by Gemma Blackwood
Standalones
The Duke’s Defiant Debutante
Destiny’s Duchess
Redeeming the Rakes
The Duke Suggests a Scandal
Taming the Wild Captain
Let the Lady Decide
Make Me a Marchioness
Scandals of Scarcliffe Hall
The Earl’s Secret Passion
The Duke’s Hidden Desire
The Lady He Longed For
The Baron’s Inconvenient Bride
The Impossible Balfours
A Duke She Can’t Refuse
The Last Earl Standing
A Viscount is a Girl’s Best Friend
No Dukes Need Apply
What an Heiress Wants - Coming Soon
No Dukes Need Apply (The Impossible Balfours Book 4) Page 19