Page 48 of His Highland Duchess
He is teasing me. Or perhaps he is testing me? I dae nae which it is, and at this point I dae nae care. I want him more than I ever have, yet he refuses to give himself over to his urges.
She guessed that he was doing it to prove a point. And she understood the reasoning well enough to prove that they could work without relying solely on their desires for one another. Still, that didn’t make it any easier to live through.
“Look who it is,” Lysander said as he looked over her shoulder. “A dear friend of mine.”
Margaret frowned and turned around, spying the Duke of Morland coming their way. The last time she had seen him, it had ended with Lysander sending her away in anger. She hoped this time things would go better.
“Ah, the happy couple.” The large duke held his arms wide as he swept toward them. “And the talk of the ball, might I add.”
“Is that so?” Lysander said dryly. “And who is doing the talking? My feeling is that I am looking right at him.”
“Your Grace…” The duke took her by the hand and gave the back of it a kiss. “You look as beautiful as ever, which I hope that my dear friend has been sure to tell you.”
“Almost too often,” she joked.
“Wonderful,” Julian said. “And you are wrong, Lysander. The talk comes from them…” He swept his hand across the ballroom. “Shock and awe because few can believe how happy you two look.”
Lysander snorted. “I do not know if I should be insulted or not.”
“Who cares what they think?” Julian said, waving them down. “What matters is the two of you.” He looked knowingly at Lysander, and Lysander gave him a nod as if to answer a silent question. “Exactly,” he chuckled. “Let the birds caw, aye. We lions have better things to worry about.”
Tonight’s event was the Brimstone Ball, hosted by Lord and Lady Brimstone, a small-time count and countess looking to make a name for themselves among their contemporaries. That was how these things often went, hosted merely as an excuse to show off wealth and bump shoulders with better company in the hopes that their prestige might rub off on them.
And indeed, since their arrival, more than one lord and lady had approached to give their salutations and congratulations. They were always overly friendly and eager for the duke to see and greet them back. It was such a strange world to be a part of, onethat Margaret was still getting used to. She felt like a queen, on the arm of a king, and needed to remind herself to behave.
The duke might like that side of me, but I doubt he would if his contemporaries were to find themselves on the wrong side of it.
“Have you paid respects to the host and hostess yet?” Julian asked
Lyander groaned. “No, but I should do.”
“I would,” he sighed. “Get it over and done with. And be wary of Lady Brimstone…” His lip curled. “She is a viper posing as a house cat. All smiles until she sees skin bared to sink her teeth into. You understand?”
“I think I can handle Lady Brimstone.”
“Oh, not you.” Julian slapped Lysander on the shoulder. “I was referring to your wife.” He laughed loudly and shook his head as he then vanished into the crowd.
Lysander watched him go, shaking his head.
“Have ye met Lady and Lord Brimstone before?” Margaret asked.
“Hmm?” He turned back to her. “Once or twice, but not–oh.” He reached out suddenly and adjusted the shoulder of her dress. “Best watch that.”
“Oops.” She touched her shoulder. “Why does that keep happening?”
“Not a problem…” He eyed the garment for a moment, his brow furrowed. “Let us just keep an eye on it, yes?”
The dress in question was one of Miss Pinpoint’s creations. A lavish spectacle of a number, mostly glistening silver in color with dashes of blue and purple. Although it was modest in design, the shoulders were puffy and awkward, and the right shoulder continued to slip and fall, which had the added benefit of pulling down the right side of the dress so that more than a little bit of Margaret’s collar was showing.
Not a problem, Margaret thought. But that was twice now that Lysander had fixed the fallen shoulder, and considering where they were and who they were about, Margaret made a mental note to keep an eye on it.
Lysander took Margaret by the arm again, all smiles, and led her through the ballroom. They found a waiter with drinks. They had a nibble of some sweet meats. They spoke to a few others whom Margaret had never met, all of whom were overly kind to her. In short, they were having a wonderful time… and then Lord and Lady Brimstone found them.
“Your Grace,” Lady Brimstone began. She stepped before her husband and extended her hand for Lysander to take; she even raised an eyebrow at him when he hesitated. “It is so lovely for you to make it this evening.”
“I would not miss it.” Lysander kissed the back of her hand and dropped it.
“We should hope not,” Lord Brimstone chuckled dully. “I have been pestering you for months.”
