Page 60 of His Forsaken Duchess
“That may be so, but you do not know how to dance withme,” she pointed out, her voice lilting. “And appearances, as you know, are everything.”
He regarded her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, with a sigh of mock defeat, he gestured toward the door. “Very well, lead the way.”
Once in the music room, Audrey looked around with a critical eye, her fingers brushing the lacquered top of the pianoforte. “We shall need someone to play for us.”
Cedric leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest. “Stevenson plays quite well.”
“Stevenson?” Audrey blinked. “Your valet?”
“He is a man of many talents,” Cedric replied dryly. Turning to Potts, who was hovering discreetly nearby, he added, “Summon him.”
Minutes later, Stevenson entered the room, his expression placid as he approached the pianoforte. He bowed to Audrey before sitting down. “What shall I play, Your Grace?”
“A waltz, if you please,” she replied, glancing at Cedric. “Shall we?”
Cedric extended his hand, and Audrey placed hers atop it, the heat of his palm against her glove causing a curious flutter in her chest. He led her to the center of the room, his movements confident, his grip steady. As the music began, he placed a hand on her waist, pulling her into position.
The first steps were tentative, their movements slightly stiff, but as the melody swelled, they found a rhythm. Cedric’s hand tightened subtly around her waist, guiding her with quiet assurance.
Audrey’s heart rate quickened, her breath hitching as they moved in perfect harmony.
“You’re lighter on your feet than I expected,” she remarked, her tone teasing despite the warmth rising to her cheeks.
“And you’re not as dreadful a partner as I feared,” Cedric replied, his lips quirking up slightly.
Audrey laughed softly, her guard slipping just enough to let her delight show. “Dreadful? You wound me. I’ll have you know that I’m a celebrated dancer.”
“Are you now?” He cocked an eyebrow as he spun her through a turn. “Have you a trophy hidden somewhere in our London townhouse?”
“Not a trophy,” she replied with mock seriousness. “But my name is frequently whispered at balls, always in admiration.”
“Then I shall look forward to hearing that for myself.”
Audrey laughed softly, her gaze rising to meet his. For a moment, the room seemed to fade away, leaving only the music and the steady rhythm of their steps. His eyes, warm andunguarded, held hers, and she felt an ache she could not name, a longing she could not deny.
If only this were real.
“Perhaps,” he said quietly, “there’s more to both of us than we thought.”
Heat rose to her cheeks, and a shiver ran through her. “I believe there is.”
As the waltz drew to a close, their movements slowed, but Cedric’s hand lingered on her waist. Her fingers curled slightly against his shoulder, reluctant to let go. When they finally stepped apart, the spell broke, and Audrey became acutely aware of the hushed murmurs beyond the doorway.
She turned, her cheeks flushing again as she saw the gathered staff watching them with wide eyes.
Mrs. Potts clutched her hands to her chest, beaming. “Oh, Your Grace, what a beautiful sight! I daresay I’ve never seen such a dance.”
Cedric cleared his throat. “Back to work, all of you.”
The staff dispersed quickly, though not without lingering smiles and furtive glances.
Mrs. Potts hesitated, her excitement bubbling over. “I cannot wait for the day you and His Grace host a grand ball here at Haremore.”
Audrey’s smile faltered, guilt pricking her heart. She managed a polite nod, but inside, her deception squeezed her heart.
I won’t be coming back to this castle. How can I tell her?
As Cedric crossed to the door in long, purposeful strides, Audrey remained rooted to the spot, her fingers brushing against the edge of the pianoforte.
