Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 86167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
“You ought to take your wife for a dance,” said August’s father. “Now, before there’s no room left to move.”
“I’ve been working up the courage to ask her to add me to her dance card.”
Elizabeth laughed, taking his arm. “And I’ve been working up the courage to dance the waltz as all the married couples do. Mama said I would seem fast if I waltzed too much before I was wed.”
“The one time you tried it, in the parlor at home…” Her mama chuckled.
“Papa and I upended a table with Great-Grandmama’s vintage crystal punch bowl,” Elizabeth explained to August and his parents.
“Full of sugary cherry-brandy punch,” her papa added. “Of course, I take full blame.”
“It was not at all his fault.” Elizabeth sighed. “I ought to have taken some dancing lessons, but after that, I was traumatized.”
“You and your lessons,” said August with a wink. “No matter, my dear. I’ll have you waltzing before the night’s out.” He glanced across the room. “The punch bowl seems safe, as the Lockridges have wisely stowed it in the corner.”
“That’s fortunate.” She waved to their parents as August guided her away. “Wish me luck!”
The couples swirling around them made it look easy, but she knew it wouldn’t be, especially with half the ton looking on.
“Perhaps we should wait until later in the evening?” she suggested, biting her lip.
“Trust me,” he whispered back.
He led her to the floor just as a new waltz began, so she had a moment to collect herself before the lilting sweep and sway of the romantic dance ensued. She had been nervous, but realized at once that August was an excellent partner. He held her close and guided her so skillfully she could hardly make a mistake.
Like our private times together…
She should not think about that now. He was just so handsome, so tall, dark, and elegant as he partnered her. She noticed ladies glancing at him, while others stared with bold, admiring looks. The ladies’ glances at her were not as flattering. Some expressed silent jealousy. Some were mocking, so she fixed her gaze upon August’s kind eyes and tried to forget the other dancers existed.
It was easy, when he looked at her that way. The caring smile, the deep gaze, the way his hand caressed her back as he led her, preventing any misstep…
He was doing this on purpose. He was showing the world, showing all of London’s elite that however their marriage began, he was enamored of her. It made her love him even more, love him so much a small pain opened up inside her, for with such love came vulnerability and the terrifying possibility of loss. She could barely stand to think about losing his love for any reason.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“Oh, yes.” She composed her features back to joy and lightness. She must remember that people were looking. They would always be looking until the gossip about their marriage petered out. “You’re such a skilled dancer,” she said, gripping his shoulder. “Excellent, really. The punch bowl is safe.”
“We’re all happier for it.” Laughter lit his already handsome features. “The guests must have their drink.”
Ah, his smile. She’d always thought August somewhat shy, but she knew differently now. As her husband, her lover, he came alive.
That means he loves you.
“I know,” she said softly. “I know.”
“What?”
She realized she’d spoken aloud and felt a flush across her cheeks.
“I… I know that I shall have to dance with some other gentlemen tonight, to be polite, but I would be content to dance three hours only with you.”
“We’d be exhausted by the end,” he said with a twinkle in his eye. “Too exhausted to do other activities once we return home. We’re making our appearance here, as we must, but I beg you, darling, do not wear yourself out.”
*
Around midnight, August lay deliciously depleted, having dragged his wife from the ball to his bed at the earliest acceptable moment. Perhaps it was not well done, as the Lockridges had intended the fête to ease him and Elizabeth past the new Season’s gossip. But leaving early, after dancing almost exclusively with one another, said something to the busybodies who wished to cast aspersions on their match.
To hell with them all.
Elizabeth roused from her light slumber as he thought it. “August…darling…”
“I’m here, Lisbet.”
Her green eyes fluttered open. “Shall I go to my own room?”
“No.” He pulled her closer. “Sleep here with me.”
He didn’t know why they kept separate bedrooms when they spent each night in one another’s arms. Perhaps so she had a place for all the gowns he planned to buy her now that they were in London, as well as the flowers, to be delivered twice a week.
You will understand that I love you, he thought, looking down at her sated, sleepy face. Every day, I’ll make you see it, until you truly believe.