Page 55 of His Stolen Duchess
The pressure of his hand became slightly firmer against her waist, just long enough for her to feel the shift and wonder if it was deliberate. “It seems I’m not the only one who does.”
“I knew you didn’t want to have that conversation with my uncle.”
“No,” he admitted. “Your uncle cares for you deeply, doesn’t he?”
Georgina’s smile softened, shaded by memory. “Yes. I was young when my father passed, and Uncle Francis helped raise us. He supported my mother and sisters, and after she died, he did his best to ensure we’d have secure futures. I think he still believes he’s fulfilling his promise to her.”
Lysander studied her face for a moment. “I imagine there aren’t many people who can dictate your choices. That’s quite clear.”
“Only one man has ever influenced my life in any meaningful way,” she said lightly. “And I seem to be in his arms tonight.”
His brows rose subtly, but not without interest. “I take that as a great compliment.”
“You should. I don’t offer them often.”
He tilted his head slightly, as if trying to see her from a new angle. “Whatever guidance your uncle gave you, it’s not what led you to marry, is it?”
“He certainly encouraged it in the beginning,” she said, the corner of her mouth quirking. “But I removed myself from that particular arrangement rather swiftly, as you know. And the next… well, I fell into that one, so to speak.”
He smiled briefly and unexpectedly at her quip. “That is certainly one way of putting it. You did make quite a splash.”
Georgina gave a little laugh. “Was that a joke, Your Grace? I wasn’t aware you were capable of humor. It suits you.”
“Don’t get used to it,” he said somewhat gruffly. “If it was a joke, it was probably a mistake.”
She inhaled deeply. Even amidst the aroma of beeswax candles and perfume, she could still catch his warm and inviting scent. It made her dizzier than the dancing.
“Admit it,” she said, her lips curving. “You’re enjoying yourself.”
“The night is… not unenjoyable,” he replied, carefully. “And we’re doing a fine job of appearing convincingly married.”
She turned her head slightly, her gaze sweeping the room before returning to his. “We’re doing more than that. No one can take their eyes off us. And while I know it’s mostly you they’re watching, I don’t mind. It’s enjoyable being seen like this. Admired.”
“Even if I’m not having a good time?”
“I’m having enough for both of us.”
“Good.”
He lifted her hand in a graceful arc and spun her once—twice—her skirts flaring around her like petals in bloom. When she returned to his hold, it was firmer than before. She caught her breath.
“I didn’t come here for enjoyment,” he said. “It’s difficult, after seeing?—”
He stopped. His expression shuttered.
“You really are a splendid dancer.”
She inclined her head, swallowing the questions that leaped to her lips. “Thank you, Your Grace.”
There were things she wanted to ask. About the war. About what still haunted him. She had seen that same distance in his eyes earlier when he’d spoken with her uncle. But now was not the time.
Some men welcomed being pressed. The Duke was not one of them.
The music slowed. The final notes hung in the air like mist before dissolving into polite applause.
Georgina blinked, disappointed that the moment was already gone.
“Thank you for the dance, Your Grace,” she curtsied.
