Page 56 of Honeythorn
“What is it?” Raphael asked a little desperately, when it suddenly seemed to dawn on him, probably due to the fact that Milan could barely take his eyes off his hands.
Immediately, Raphael yanked his gloves off, opening the front door and throwing the gloves out harshly. The sight was so ridiculous that it snapped Milan out of whatever it had been that took over him.
“Wait! Don’t do that. They’re perfectly good gloves. It’s cold, you can—”
“No,” Raphael interrupted. He stepped towards Milan and then faltered, unsure. “Please. I don’t—I can’t see you with that expression again. Not aimed towards me.”
Milan laughed, the sound wobbly and wet. He felt his heart slow, tempering his fear. The reaction had been so instantaneous that it seemed to stop just as suddenly, leaving him a little shaken once he could engage his mind again. He took a long, bracing breath, determined to beat this with sheer, stubborn force. He would do exactly what the fear did not want him doing.
“All right. Let’s warm each other’s hands, then,” he said, lifting his arm towards Raphael even though it was shaking slightly.
Raphael’s eyes widened, but after a moment of hesitation, he stepped forwards and took Milan’s hand, bare skin against bare skin. They had been doing it for so many weeks now, and yet this moment felt different, a spark of something warm igniting.
“Well. Shall we?” Milan suggested and, without waiting for an answer, pulled Raphael to the crawler waiting outside.
Raphael followed, hand tightening around his.
*****
Milan guessed that the Countess’s balls were the only ones Raphael forced himself to attend, judging by the fact that they were in her manor again. The interior was as lavishly decorated and full of people as the last ball.
This time, however, Raphael did not abandon him as soon as they walked in.
“Refreshments?” Raphael asked above the hubbub.
“Please.”
They waded into the crowd, Raphael’s hand a warm point on Milan’s lower back. It was the first time Raphael initiated a touch except to hold hands—and their wedding night, but this was not the time to think about that—and Milan couldn’t help but smile to himself.
Drinks in hand, it took Katerina no time at all to sniff them out. Milan would swear she had an unnatural sense to spot Milan in a crowd.
“Look at you. You look splendid,” Katerina greeted them. Milan grinned.
“All thanks to you.” He turned to Raphael. “She was the one that suggested the material for my outfit.”
Raphael nodded. “And she has a keen eye. You look radiant. Hello, Miss Rosewood.”
Milan blushed, looking away at the praise.
Katerina was not so easily swayed. “Lord Ledford,” she said coolly before turning back to Milan. “You wouldn’t guess who is in attendance,” she said, pointing her chin to the right.
Milan followed her gaze before rolling his eyes as he spotted Edwin. “Oh, joy,” he said sarcastically.
Raphael looked between Edwin and them. “Who is that?”
“Nobody,” Milan said with a wave of his hand.
Katerina sniffed. “He was quite rude to Milan during the last ball you attended. Not that you would have noticed, being completely absent from your husband’s company the whole night.”
Milan threw Katerina an admonishing look, but Raphael did not seem offended, staring at Edwin with a dark expression.
“That will not happen again,” Raphael said. Katerina hummed, her doubt obvious.
“How gallant of you,” she drawled. “Oh, there’s Jason. Let’s say hello.” Lacing her arm through Milan’s, she dragged him towards the man in question. Milan looked back, making sure Raphael was not being left behind, but he was following closely.
Jason looked obviously pleased to see Milan. “Well, hello. I didn’t know if I’d see you here.”
Milan grimaced, having ignored his correspondence after the first ball. “Hello. I’m sorry for not responding to your letters—I was taken ill and have only recently recuperated. I hope you’re not too cross.”
