A mischievous glint sparked in Matthew’s eyes as he looked at the man beside him.
Matthew had never seen himself making actual friends in such a gathering, but this man had something about him that was calming.
As they delved into the amusing anecdote of the renegade horse, laughter echoed between them, a brief respite from the formalities of estate discussions. The energy was light, and Matthew found himself enjoying the camaraderie.
He leaned in, nodding along to Lord Harrington’s anecdotes about managing unruly tenants, but his gaze flickered toward the entrance.
The grand doors swung open, and there, in a cascade of silk and grace, was Agnes, accompanied by her family. The conversation faded into the background as his eyes fixed on her.
She moved like a whispered secret, the embodiment of elegance that effortlessly seized his attention. For a moment, he forgot about Lord Harrington’s amusing tale. All that mattered was Agnes, navigating the sea of people with a quiet confidence that begged to be noticed.
In the midst of this enchantment, their eyes unexpectedly met, sending a jolt through Matthew’s chest.
The moment lingered, a fleeting connection that stirred something within him. However, before he could decipher the unspoken language between them, someone approached Agnes, gallantly kissing her palm before leading her into the dance. A pang of jealousy pricked at Matthew’s emotions, a silent acknowledgment of the turmoil within him.
What has this woman done to me?
As the enchanting melody of the waltz began to play, Agnes gracefully stepped onto the dance floor. Matthew, unable to resist, followed her every move with his gaze, captivated by the rhythmic sway of her gown as she glided with her partner. Lord Harrington’s words became a distant hum as Matthew found himself absorbed in the silent poetry of Agnes’s movements.
At that moment, the ballroom transformed into a realm of emotions, and the fluttering of his heartbeat drowned out the external chatter. He marveled at her, the woman who had occupied his thoughts, despite his attempts to shroud her in the recesses of his mind.
A part of him longed to join her on the dance floor, to sweep her into a waltz that mirrored the clandestine dance of their hearts. Yet, the invisible barriers erected by their past stood tall, and he remained rooted in his conversation with Lord Harrington, a silent spectator to the enchanting spectacle before him.
Attempting to anchor himself in the ongoing conversation with Lord Harrington, Matthew tried to divert his attention from Agnes’s mesmerizing dance. However, fate had other plans. As the melodies of the waltz continued to weave through the air, he never anticipated Agnes approaching him.
In a moment that seemed to defy the invisible barriers of their past, Agnes, with a glint of determination in her eyes, stood before Matthew. The soft strains of the waltz surrounded them, and she spoke, her voice cutting through the ambient chatter of the ballroom.
“May I have this dance, Your Grace?”
The unconventional, nearly scandalous words hung in the air, a simple yet powerful request that seemed to echo against the invisible barriers of their past.
The unexpected request caught him off guard, and for a fleeting second, the ballroom held its breath.
Matthew’s gaze met Agnes’s, and without uttering a word, he extended his hand. The world around them blurred as they moved to the dance floor, his hand enveloping hers, the familiar touch sparking an array of emotions.
For that brief interlude, the weight of the past seemed to dissipate, leaving only the present moment.
CHAPTER22
It felt good. It felt really good.
Those were the thoughts in Agnes’s head as they waltzed.
Being back in Matthew’s arms felt like heaven, and even though the man looked stiff, Agnes was not sure she wanted to be anywhere else.
The grand ballroom enveloped Agnes in a swirl of opulence as she danced, adorned in a gown of deep sapphire that seemed to shimmer as they swirled gracefully, its silky fabric caressing her skin.
The dress flowed elegantly, complementing her figure, and delicate lace adorned the edges, adding a touch of refinement. Her hair, meticulously styled, cascaded in soft waves, held in place by an intricately adorned comb.
As their dance carried them across the room, her gaze locked on Matthew, dressed in a black tailored coat that accentuated his broad shoulders. The fine fabric hinted at the strength beneath, and a silver cravat added a touch of sophistication. Agnes could feel her heartbeat quicken at the sight of him, the memories of shared dances and whispered gossip flooding back.
Her heart ached with apprehension and longing.
Again, she twirled, and his warm, gentle hands brought her back to his chest.
As they moved gracefully across the ballroom, Agnes couldn’t ignore the subtle tension in Matthew’s posture. His gaze, though hooded, held a familiar intensity, and Agnes found herself lost in the depths of his dark eyes. The scent of wood and vanilla surrounded her, a comforting familiarity that heightened her awareness of his proximity.
His gaze made her hot all over, and she felt extremely wanted. Just as much as she was sure her eyes told him she craved him.