Page 79 of Duke It Out
I feel the heat rising in my cheeks. Rory’s hand is on my waist as he spins me around, and it feels like it’s burning through the fabric of my dress. I look up, surprised by how dark his green eyes look in this light.
“You don’t like any of it?”
“I like this part.” His brow raises slightly, and he smirks.
The music slows at just the wrong time, and we end uppausing right in front of Fenella, who is in full on toxic ex mode.
“Well, let him have his dalliance with the commoner,” I hear, very clearly. “He’ll need someone better bred in the future…”
The voice is cool and amused. I feel myself stiffen in Rory’s arms. My feet keep moving but I feel like I’m detached from my body, like I’ve stepped out of myself and I’m watching myself from a distance.
“Edie?”
“I’m fine,” I say, puffing a breath upwards to demonstrate. “Just a bit warm.”
He doesn’t press me. I dance with him as though nothing has changed, even though everything has. One cutting sentence reminds me that this isn’t my place – that I’m only a temporary fixture.
A moment later another voice – this time warm, melodic and husky – makes me turn in surprise. Annabel’s standing on the side of the dance floor in a dark gold dress which makes her look like a goddess from ancient Greece, her honey-coloured highlights warm in the glow of the candlelight.
“Annabel,” Rory says as she reaches out to embrace him. “You made it.”
She puts a hand on my arm and one on Rory’s, drawing us both close to her. He looks delighted to see her – she’s the closest thing she has to family now, only without any of the toxic ties of the past.
Her memoir was the one serious project I’ve done, the only job that ever made me think I could be more than background noise.
“Darlings.” She beams. “Couldn’t be happier to walk in and find you two dancing in each other’s arms.”
“Oh, I’m not—” I protest, blushing. “I mean we’re not?—”
I take an awkward step backward and almost stand on an unsuspecting kilted man. He hops deftly out of the way and gives me a knowing grin. “Take more water with it, hen,” he says as he twirls his partner away from us.
“Sorry I’m so late.” Annabel fluffs up her hair and takes out a gold compact from her bag, checking her lipstick. “Had to catch a lift with Freddie James in his chopper and it plays havoc with your hair.”
I nod in what I hope is a suitably sympathetic manner. Sometimes if I have to stand on the tube and I’m next to a window it’s a bit blowy, which is basically the same thing. Ish.
Kate approaches as Rory’s cornered by a red-cheeked farmer in a too-short red kilt and dragged into a conversation about cows and fencing.
“Hello sweetie,” says Annabel, kissing her on both cheeks. “You look beautiful. Where’s Jamie?”
Kate shrugs. “No idea.”
“Ah,” says Annabel, casting a glance around the room. “I thought you might—never mind.”
The farmer has brought in reinforcements and now there are two of them pointing and gesticulating at Rory, who looks as if he’d rather be anywhere else.
“I’m going to rescue that poor boy,” says Annabel.
The music changes and there’s a collective whoop of delight as I hear a familiar tune.
“Oh no,” I say, already backing away.
“Oh yes,” says Kate, grinning like a lunatic as she grabs Gregor and drags him – still in his apron – onto the dance floor. “Nobody escapes the Willow.”
Annabel returns, having caught Rory by the arm and charmed him away from the farmers. He downs his drink and puts the glass down on the windowsill beside a candelabra.
“Come on then,” she says, pulling me into the line. Rory’s standing opposite me with a challenging look on his face.
“I can’t do this,” I say, shaking my head and laughing.
