Page 29 of Winning the Wallflower's Heart
“You don’t need to fuss over us, Marjorie.”
“Who said anything about fussing? I’m plotting. Did you hear what Lady Brankenridge said about the Marquess of Brookhouse?” Her dark eyes widened with delight. “It’s as though they don’t understand whose ballroom they are in.”
“Mine,” the Duke of Abinger declared, coming to stand behind his wife. The duke’s dark curly hair gave him a friendly air, but it was hard to read what he held in those green eyes of his. He wrapped his hand around her waist and gently drew her to his side. Ellis didn’t miss the flash of tender recognition between them as the duchess smiled up at her husband.
“Linny,” he offered as way of a greeting. Probably fair as the last time they spoke, Ellis had been well in his cups after causing chaos in the city for three days.
“Your Grace.”
“Well look at us now.” The duchess swallowed, clasping her hands in front of her with a hopeful smile. “Who would have thought, Georgie. Wives, and wallflowers no more.”
“Are you speaking for yourself?” she teased back. “Married or not, I still prefer to have my back against the ballroom wall.”
Ellis swallowed hard, masking his surprise. But nothing could be helped about the cockstand in his buckskins at the thought of taking her against the wall. He reached for Georgiana and positioned himself behind her.
“I think marriage suits you,” the duchess continued. “You’re glowing.”
Georgiana turned and glanced up at him, surprise registering on her face when she realized he was already studying her.
The duke turned to hide his grin.
The orchestra struck up a waltz, and he took his chance. Ellis offered his hand.
“Go on,” the duchess said, shooing them off. “We’ll be in Town for another week. Let’s make plans to take a ride through the park and catch up. I’m so happy to see you, Georgie, and congratulations.”
They quickly bid their farewells, and Ellis began leading her away.
“I don’t dance, Ellis,” she murmured. She shook her head, eyes wide with trepidation.
It felt as if the entire ballroom suddenly shifted their attention on them, waiting. “Now is not the time to hide, Kitten,” he whispered against her ear.
She nodded, slipping her hand into his.
He led her out onto the ballroom floor, every step purposeful, claiming her.Mine.It was a message he intended to deliver to every pair of eyes that watched them.
After his father had cut him off after proposing to Dinah, his friends had distanced themselves. Still an heir to the earldom, yet the title held little weight in circles that viewed him as a social pariah, pushed to the fringes of London society. So when Dinah died, he had decided to work beside her brother in building some of the more successful silver hells before he went off on his own and built The Phoenix Club.
Once, he had been just another peer among this group. But after being cast off for following his heart, he built himself an empire because of these men and their fortunes. It could never be like it once was, and he was suddenly sure he never wanted it to be.
He was proud of the man he had become, prouder still of his wife.
He loved her.
The realization struck him, swelling in his chest as he clumsily reached for her hand once more when the orchestra struck up. A smile spread across Georgiana’s face as they spun and turned, gliding through the other couples. Every swish of her skirts, every glance from beneath her long lashes, sent a shiver of anticipation down his spine. He couldn’t stop himself from drawing her closer, fingers pressing into the small of her back. There was no use pretending he didn’t want her. Not anymore.
“Is something the matter?” she asked softly as they came back together.
He shook his head, half laughing, knowing full well what he wanted to say was not appropriate for a crowded ballroom. The need to claim her, to mark her in some primal way, blazed through him. But he held his tongue. Instead, he leaned down again, lips brushing against her temple. “You’re so damn beautiful.”
Her gaze flicked to his, the soft blush that spread over her cheeks making his chest tighten painfully. Ellis needed to get her alone, away from this stifling room, needed to kiss her and tangle his hands into her hair and made sure she understood just how he felt about her.
When the music ended and they parted, he kept his hold on her hand. Bending close, he murmured, “Meet me down the hall. In the library.”
Her brows lifted, but when their eyes met, she nodded, her tongue darting out to wet her lips.
It took every ounce of discipline he had not to drag her out of the ballroom right then. But he forced himself to stride away slowly, slipping through the sea of guests. The library was quiet, empty, and as he paced before the mantel, he wondered if it was wise to whisk her off like this. But then, wise had very little to do with what he felt when it came to her.
It was an all-consuming, tide-wrecking, complete and utter havoc on his heart. It happened with every hidden smile, each laugh, the way the light had suddenly soaked back into his life. Gradual and then all at once. A complete contradiction that didn’t make sense, but finding himself in love again didn’t either.
