Page 56 of His Stolen Duchess
He had released her waist, but her body still remembered his touch—its weight, its steadiness, and the impossible heat it carried.
“It was my pleasure,” he said. “We’ve shown them enough for now. Come, let’s find some refreshments and hope no one tries to speak to us. It’s the small talk and the gossip that truly test my endurance.”
She tried not to let his tone pull her mood down. It had been a wonderful dance—brief, but vivid—and she wasn’t quite ready to let it go.
Georgina slipped her hand into the crook of Lysander’s arm without waiting for him to offer it.
He didn’t pull away.
Together they left the dance floor, weaving through the crowd of admirers and idle observers. The Duke walked briskly enough to discourage conversation, and though several heads turned their way, no one dared stop them. He had that effect on people—part noble, part storm cloud.
Georgina didn’t mind. She had already conversed with her sisters earlier that evening, and now there was only one person in the room with whom she wanted to keep speaking.
A maid passed them with a silver tray, and Lysander deftly plucked two flutes of champagne, handing one to her without comment. He then steered them toward the edge of the ballroom, away from the music, the candlelight, and the sea of watching eyes.
They stopped in the shadows beneath a tall marble column, near one of the long, arched windows. The glass was cool, touched by night, and the chatter of the room seemed to fall away slightly.
She sipped her champagne. It was dry and cold and tasted faintly of something floral. But it was not as intoxicating as the man beside her.
No sooner had they turned toward the ballroom than two excited voices broke through the hum of conversation.
“Georgina! You lookamazing!” cried Isabella, practically bouncing.
“Purely divine,” Beatrice added with a grin, her dark eyes sparkling.
Georgina’s smile bloomed. “I didn’t know you were both here. Your Grace, may I introduce two dear friends of mine? Lady Isabella and Lady Beatrice. We’ve known each other for a decade now.”
“A pleasure, ladies,” Lysander said, bowing politely. “I’ve also just spotted a friend. Do excuse me.” His eyes lingered on Georgina for the briefest moment. “Will you be all right?”
“Of course,” she said lightly. “I shall find you if I need rescuing, Your Grace.”
He gave a nod and disappeared into the crowd. She was, admittedly, a touch disappointed that he hadn’t stayed to chat with her friends, but the sight of the twins made up for it.
“Oh, youmustlet me embrace you both,” Georgina said, opening her arms.
Isabella all but launched into her arms, giggling as she squeezed. Beatrice’s hug was more restrained, though no less affectionate.
“How are you both?” Georgina asked, stepping back to take them in properly. “Let me have a look at you. Have any dashing young gentlemen stolen your hearts yet?”
Isabella clasped her hands together dramatically. “Perhaps. Lord Browham’s already asked me to dance. He’sveryhandsome, and surprisingly charming.”
“I told her not to leap at the first man who flatters her,” Beatrice said primly.
“You’re only saying that becauseyouhave yet to be asked,” Isabella teased.
“Untrue. Lord Bingley has already asked.”
“Yes, but he dances witheveryone,” Isabella scoffed.
“That only proves he has excellent manners. I want a gentleman with more than just one redeeming quality. Someone complex. Someone interesting.” Beatrice crossed her arms as if to seal her point.
Georgina smiled and stepped between them, slipping an arm through each of theirs. “I have no doubt you’ll both marry brilliant men. But don’t rush it. You mustknowa man before you vow to spend your life with him. Don’t let charm be your only guide.”
“I don’t recall hearing about your courtship with His Grace,” Beatrice said slyly.
Georgina’s smile tightened, but she kept it in place. “Nor shall you. Just know that I speak from experience. Marriage can be a wonder, but only when entered wisely. With so many options, it’s tempting to leap at the first flutter of excitement, but take your time. The right man will reveal himself, usually when you least expect it.”
“We want to marry at the same time,” Isabella said, half serious, half dreamy. “Perhaps we’ll each find men who are twins. Can you imagine?”
