Page 46 of The Duke's Spinster

Hundreds of eyes followed her every movement. Watching for what? Something incriminating? Some piece of evidence as to why—why on God’s green earth—he had chosen her? What was so special about her? Everyone wanted to know. Hell, she wanted to know, too. But she was having a bit of trouble suppressing the grin vying for purchase on her face.

Maybe she had found someone who liked her for her full self. As her sisters had said, he knew more about her than any man, and he made the most effort with her.

She thought back to her early demands of flowers, chocolate, and a gift. A woman had to have standards, even if they were outrageous. And how she had pushed him by ordering an exorbitant number of ices…well, she hadn’t backed down and neither had he. It had led to their bouts on the piste, and she couldn’t be happier.

Except she could be.

Suddenly, the manly source of all her current vexation was at her side. “Before the dance requests start flooding in, I must insist that you save a waltz for me. The first one is my preference.”

“Of course, Your Grace.” She took the dance card dangling on her wrist, something she hadn’t had any use for of late, and she wrote his name down. “I dare say it’s a wise act to reserve your dance. With all my suitors, you might have missed your chance otherwise.”

“You jest, but I’m sure more than a few eyes have been opened this evening. I saw the crowds observing your entrance. And before you say it could have been your sisters, I must interject. I was studying them while they studied you. So in this case, I know my evaluation is correct.”

With that, he kissed her hand and left.

And true to his prediction, her card filled up, and thankfully before Lord Tamely was able to snare her into a dance. He had backed down over the years, but with all the attention she was receiving tonight, she had no doubt he would toss his hat in the ring. Apparently, all a spinster needed was the attention of a duke to bring her into light. The dances were a delight. She twirled, and smiled. Laughed and curtsied. It was the perfect evening. Even some of the conversations hadn’t been altogether tedious.

But tedious did not compare to elation. Wesley was beside her again, arm extended, inviting her to dance. A waltz with him. Their relationship (if she was brave enough to call it that) was public. Everyone would see. Everyone would know. The whisper of gossip from the garden party would surely be reignited after this dance.

None of that was on her mind though. All that she perceived was the warmth of his fingers through her gloves. The heat from his eyes on her lips. And then the light pressure of his hand alongher back as he swirled her onto the dance floor. Nothing existed outside of the dance. Beyond the depth of his gaze, there were no other eyes. The music enveloped them in a cloud of bliss.

He was strong. He was sure of himself. He knew what he wanted in life, and he went after it. No matter what she threw at him. No matter how she lunged at him, he had taken the hit. Lost the point. Failed to win. Yet was determined to persevere. And how a man did one thing was often how he did many things. Perhaps even everything.

She had seen his weakness, and he was not a man to reveal that kind of defect. He wanted to win, and he wanted everyone to see that. It was pride, to be sure, but it was dignity. It was self-respect. And she wanted that for him. And she wanted it even more for herself. Her dreams to open a fencing academy would be possible with him. She could share her future with him tonight, and if he agreed to it, then she would marry him.

Because in her heart, she knew. This was the man she wanted. This was the man she could allow herself to envision a future with.

He liked her. He was attentive. And as her sisters had encouraged, it could turn to love. She would be a fool to outright reject his proposal when a very bright and happy future could await them both.

There was no exchange of words. Only his soft eyes languidly perusing her face. It was the zenith of intimacy. To be content in silence. More than content, absolutely filled. She had only ever felt this way with him. With that knowledge and acceptance of her feelings, she was set on her answer.

The waltz was ending, so she rushed to whisper, “I’ll tell you my answer tonight.”

His smile melted her heart. And somehow she knew that she hadn’t been alone in her feelings during the waltz.

Her next dance was with Samuel, Duke of Cadmore. When he approached, Wesley was loathe to give her up.

“On your best behavior, Cadmore.”

Samuel only laughed. He had a coy smile on his face and a light but unyielding grip on her fingers. And she couldn’t help the prickling sensation all along her neck. Wesley was watching them more closely than his casual observations of her other partners. Intriguing.

“You have a bevy of fine partners this evening, Lady Boudicca.”

“Yes, it’s quite irregular.” There was no point in claiming otherwise. Everyone had known of her spinster status prior to the garden party.

“You have your pick it would seem.”

“So it would seem.” She answered trepidatiously.

“Ah…but then nothing is as it seems, is it?”

“Quite.”

He laughed. “You have nothing to say to that? Come now. I’ve heard that you like to spar.”

Wesley wouldn’t have told people about her secret, would he?

“Verbally,” Samuel added in a dry tone.

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