Page 72 of Rules for Heiresses
She wanted to take back her harsh words, but couldn’t bring herself to do it.
“Now you see,” he said gently. “The real me.”
Ravenna wanted to scream that that wasn’t the real him at all. It was a mask he wore to keep himself apart from the world and everyone. He held people at arm’s length so that they couldn’t ever hurt him, and she’d just gone and proven that with her thoughtless, angry words. Why did he have to make things so difficult? Two absurdly stubborn people should not be in the same room, much less confined in a coach as they were.
“I wish to call a truce for tonight,” she said as they pulled up in the line of carriages in front of her mother’s residence. “We have a job to do. I made you a promise and I shall deliver on it.” She let out a breath. “And in the interests of transparency, I have a feeling that your friend Sommers will be here tonight.”
A dark gaze slammed into hers, but she was already up and stepping down from the coach into the crush that crowded the marble steps.
* * *
After Ravenna’s bombshell, Courtland kept a close eye on the guests, but there was no sign of Sommers, not that anyone was easily visible in this crush of the beau monde. Except for one, that was. He watched as his wife danced a rousing polka with her brother, her face alight and her mouth pulled into a joyous smile. She was radiant. There was something about her that outshone every other lady in the room. And it wasn’t that stunning lavender and silver dress that made her look like a shooting star, flaring across the heavens.
“She’s lovely, isn’t she?”
Courtland tore his gaze away and glanced down to the woman at his side who was gowned in a heavily embroidered jade dress with intricate trim. He’d been introduced to her earlier, Embry’s striking duchess with the insightful stare that had cut right through him. She speared him now with a similar shrewd regard.
“Quite, Your Grace. Or should I say Princess?”
“Please, it’s Sarani. I’m not big on formality as you will undoubtedly learn.” She sipped on a glass of champagne. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Not all of it dreadful, I hope.”
“Not in the least.” Her smile was quick. “Ravenna tells me you’re a bit of an entrepreneur in the West Indies, that you invest in land and property and shipping among other things?”
Courtland canted his head. “Liners mostly, for passenger travel. Engines have always fascinated me.”
“She did mention your fabulous ship, theGlory,” Sarani said. “I hope to travel on it one day and experience it for myself.”
“You are welcome aboard any time.”
They watched their spouses in companionable silence. Oddly, Courtland felt completely comfortable in the duchess’s presence and without the pressing need to converse that he often felt with other aristocratic ladies. Although he remained aware of her occasional curious glances at him, particularly when Ravenna let out a peal of laughter at a twirl in the dance or when her eyes caught his and he felt his entire body twitch in visceral reaction.
“You care for her, don’t you?” Sarani’s voice was soft, and when he turned to her, she tilted her head, erasing the denial on his lips. “It’s obvious, if one knows what to look for.”
“What’s that?” he asked.
“The way you follow her with your eyes. Even when you’re looking elsewhere, they always come back for that reassurance that she’s still there, as if you need to ascertain it. It’s in the way it feels like your very beings are connected via some invisible tether. When she enters a room, you brighten, and when she leaves it, the world dims.”
“That sounds quite poetic.” He kept his expression composed. “If rather fanciful.”
Her smile was soft. “No less true.” She finished her champagne and pursed her lips in thought. “I haven’t known Ravenna very long, but she’s loyal to a fault. And she loves with her whole heart once she’s decided that someone is deserving of it.”
“I assure you she does not feel that way about me.”
But as Courtland looked back toward where his wife was dancing, he felt the lie deep in his bones. They meant something to each other, that was for certain. Otherwise, the thought of ending things wouldn’t hurt so damned much.
Sarani’s gaze tipped up to his, a smile making her eyes sparkle with merriment. “Watching the two of you realize how perfect you are for each other is going to be fun.”
On that amused note, the princess-turned-duchess wandered away in a flurry of brilliant skirts. Courtland didn’t have the chance to disprove the absurd claim that he and Ravenna were perfect for each other.
Except in bed.
It was the only space of concord between them. What would it feel like to be loved wholly and unreservedly by someone like Ravenna? One would never be in any doubt. She loved wholly.Fiercely.
The arrival of Bronwyn on the arm of Stinson thankfully claimed his attention. Lady Borne was conspicuously absent, but that was no surprise. She would make a statement any way she was able. It surprised Courtland to see Stinson, however, though his mouth was pinched disagreeably as if the ball was the last place he wanted to be. Then again, given his mother’s aspirations to secure a good match for her daughter, she wouldn’t want to maketoo muchof a statement by not having Bronwyn attend. He suppressed a chuckle. The marchioness’s ambitions were all too transparent.
He made his way over to the other side of the ballroom where Bronwyn had been unceremoniously dumped by Stinson. Courtland couldn’t help noting how lovely she was. The real question, however, was whether that loveliness matched what was on the inside. His first inkling came when her face lit up as he approached.
