Page 76 of Rules for Heiresses
“Yes,” she said. “It’s whatever one needs it to be—liberating, redeeming, extricating, protecting, defending.”
“Extricating?”
Ravenna laughed. “From the webs of your own folly.”
“Are you insulting my considerable and cosmic intelligence, Duchess?” he asked in mock affront, the shine of those midnight eyes doing unconscionable things to her insides. A bubble of laughter built in her chest. She loved him like this—uncaring of rules and expectations. Justhim. The sightings of the boy she’d known were rare, but she treasured them ferociously.
“Cosmic? Your ego is enormous.”
He arched a brow, yanking her scandalously close. Her brain nearly melted as his hardness grazed her belly. She gasped and he grinned. It was wicked and delightful, and she loved it. “See for yourself.”
Ravenna stopped and threw her arms around him, ignoring the gasps that went up to the rafters. She’d never been one for convention and she wasn’t about to start now. Her mother would be appalled, but she would get over it. They swayed together in the middle of all the dancers, not even remotely counting the steps for the waltz, but letting the music flow through them all the same.
“You are dreadful,” she whispered. “We’re in public, you awful man!”
“You like it.”
He was right. She did. She loved it. Loved him.
Oh my God.
Her entire body stiffened in horror. Of all the things she could have gone and done, this was probably—categorically—the stupidest. Because deep down, despite their occasional camaraderie and their deepening rapport, it was clear that Courtland would never be able to love her back. He was too scarred. Too fractured.
She couldn’t tell him. He could never know.
They’d always been friends though. Maybe friendship could be enough.
* * *
Courtland’s mind wandered for the dozenth time since he’d propped up a pillar in an unobtrusive corner of the ballroom. He’d been ready to leave two hours ago, but knew he could not. He watched his wife dancing with Stinson of all people, and though his fists clenched at his sides at the sight, he forced himself to be calm. Stinson was family. As long as he did not overstep, Courtland would tolerate it. Thisonce.
His thoughts weren’t on his brother though. They were on his wife.
During the last part of their dance when she’d scandalized all in attendance by doing the unthinkable and embracing him, he’d felt the change in her like the first scent of a storm wind on the horizon. That glorious smile had remained fixed in place, but something in her eyes had shifted. She’d seemed…unsure and careful, as though she’d run headlong into a rose garden and was suddenly reminded of the thorns.
Usually, she was easy to read, but now, she had not been. It unsettled him. He tapped the side of his tumbler with a thoughtful frown.
“Looks like Lord Ethelrod is the new contender,” Waterstone said.
Courtland frowned at his friend. “What?”
“Ethelrod with your sister,” he said, jerking his chin to where Bronwyn was being escorted off the ballroom floor on the arm of a well-dressed young gentleman. “She’s had an unending stream of fops lining up. I’ll say that part one of your plan to see her wed is well and truly accomplished.”
Courtland didn’t know why that knowledge didn’t bring him the satisfaction he’d hoped. His sister had been launched as beautifully as a ship taking her maiden voyage. He should be happy. The suitors would be lining up at Ashvale House, requesting permission to court her. Then why did he feel slightly panicked as though his lungs had seized and he couldn’t draw in a single breath?
Waterstone leaned in, his voice low. “Sommers is here.”
Courtland froze. “Where?”
“Leading your duchess into a dance.”
He lurched forward instinctively, only to be held in place by Waterstone’s firm grip. Everything inside of him froze as he watched the man he despised more than anything put his hands on the woman he…
Grunting, Courtland drew a ragged breath and yanked his shoulder. “Let me the fuck go.”
“Don’t make a scene. We’re too close to endanger the operation now.”
Courtland swore savagely. “I don’t give a shit. That’s my wife.”
