Page 16 of A Christmas Miracle for the Frosty Marquess
“...and then, Julian, you wouldn’t believe the state of the roads in Spain,” he said. “It’s as if they’ve never seen a carriage wheel before.”
Julian nodded, offering a noncommittal hum in response, though his thoughts nowhere near the Iberian Peninsula. His eyes wandered, passing over groups of chattering ladies and clusters of jovial men, until they halted upon a singular figure.
Clara. Even in a room full of beauty and splendor, his eye was immediately drawn to her. The blue of her gown shimmered under the chandeliers, the soft glow illuminating the delicate features of her face, tendrils of her auburn hair escaping the tiara that sat atop her head. Womanhood seemed to suit her well, as he could not deny her beauty. And when their eyes met, he tried to recall if hers had ever looked so sweet and compassionate.
She should have inspired warmth within him, or at least, a sense of hope. At the very least, he should have been glad to see an old friend after so many years. But as Julian looked at her, he realized that his heart felt no flutter, no arousal of any romantic spark or any delight at seeing his childhood friend. Instead, he only felt the realization of the choices that had been made for him.
Just as Thomas was about to continue with yet another anecdote, a commanding voice boomed through the hall, immediately seizing everyone’s attention.
“May I have your attention, please, esteemed guests?” Julian’s father asked with a smile that boasted both pride and expectation. “I am most delighted to share some joyous news on this auspicious occasion.”
All chatter ceased, every gaze fixed upon the duke. Julian held his breath, knowing what was to come and yet unable to keep himself from praying that it wouldn’t.
“I am elated to announce the forthcoming union of my son, Julian, and the lovely Lady Clara Bennett,” he said as the voices around him began to quiet.
A hush settled over the room for a brief moment, the announcement sinking in. This was followed by a gentle wave of applause, the soft claps resonating through the ballroom as guests turned towards Julian and Clara, their faces reflecting genuine surprise and happiness. There were words of congratulations and mild praise from throughout the room. The best Julian could do was stand with a frozen smile on his face. Clara looked much the same way he felt, and his heart did a strange skip. Was he just feeling sympathy for her? That had to be it, right?
For Julian, all the voices and applause began to seem distant, muffled, as if he were underwater. Yet even amidst the rising voices of those offering accolades for what they believed was happy news, his heart was overwhelmed with a silence so profound that he began to wonder if he had a heart at all. He managed to hold his strained smile, nodding politely at the well-wishers. But for a moment, he feared he might faint, like an emotionally overcome lady.
“Are you all right?” Thomas asked from beside him.
Julian started, having forgotten that his cousin was standing with him. He glanced at him with what he was sure must have been terror-stricken eyes, nodding slowly.
“I’m fine,” he said.
Thomas patted his arm gently, a smile on his lips but concern in his eyes as he turned his back to the crowd and rested his gaze firmly on Julian.
“Do you need some air?” he asked.
Julian nodded again.
“Desperately,” he said, his voice low and quiet. “Unfortunately, now is not the time for that. For now, I have to face my bride-to-be.”
The ballroom had reached its crescendo of anticipation. The voices and applause were beginning to die down once more, and Julian knew what that meant. Traditionally, as the newly betrothed couple, Julian and Clara would be expected to take up the first of the night’s dances. It was the last thing he wanted to do. But his father had made it clear that this is what Julian was to do. And it wouldn’t do to make a scene in front of a ballroom full of people. Not only would it bring shame to his father, but it would embarrass Clara and her family, as well. As much as Julian dreaded what was to come, he could not subject another innocent person to such a debacle.
Julian moved with a purpose that he hoped didn’t look as forced as it felt. As tradition dictated, he approached Clara, ignoring the eyes of all the guests that followed his every move. The whispering of silks and the subtle murmurs of the crowd served as a backdrop, but they faded into the back of his consciousness as he drew closer to her.
Clara took a breath as Julian closed the distance. Perhaps she expected a cold formality from him, an extension of the courtesy and not the warmth of an intended. He expected that of himself, as well, as even seeing her up close did nothing to thaw the ice around his heart. Yet, when he proffered his gloved hand, he was caught off guard.
“Good evening, Clara,” he said, his voice taking on a softer tone than he expected. “Would you do me the honour of sharing our very first dance together?”
Clara looked up at him, her hazel eyes meeting his with nervous uncertainty. She offered her hand, a faint blush creeping into her previously pale cheeks.
“I would be delighted, Julian,” she said.
The instant their hands met, a surprising warmth emanated from her fingers, seeping through the barriers of fabric and cold etiquette. He knew he couldn’t be imagining the warmth, and yet between both their gloves, he shouldn’t have felt it so intensely. It was as if her very essence was trying to communicate a message to his soul. Stranger still, his soul seemed to be trying to respond. Was this the friendship they had shared for so many years before his mother died speaking to him? Or was the overwhelming chain of events finally starting to erode his mind?
The orchestra began, the strings pulling at Julian’s conscious mind. With the first notes, Julian began to lead Clara in the dance. The first steps of the dance felt awkward and uncomfortable to Julian. Clara seemed equally unsure of herself, and he could only imagine how they must appear to the room full of onlookers. But after a moment, Clara gave him a tentative smile.
“It is good to see you again, Julian,” she said, keeping her voice low so as to not be overheard over the music. “Only, I must confess that I am surprised at the circumstances that brought this about.”
Julian couldn’t help but smile, even as his heart felt heavier still. She had not had any say in the matter, any more than he had. As foolish as it was, he realized that part of him had hoped that she had. But then, he would have been angry with her if she had had anything to do with trying to trap him in a marriage.
“As am I,” he said. “But yes, it is good to see you, as well.”
They fell silent again, but this time, the pair seemed to relax a little. Clara, for her part, became the embodiment of grace. She moved as if the dance was as natural for her as walking or breathing. Perhaps, it was. She had surely attended more social events in the past few years than he had. Still, he found himself surprised that the clumsy girl who used to be easy to chase into mud puddles had become such an elegant, confident dancer.
With each passing note of the music, Julian found himself more and more wavering in his resolve to remain cool toward Clara. And as the final chords of the dance played, Julian guided Clara through their concluding steps with relieved ease. To the crowd, he was sure he appeared composed, calm, and comfortable. But beneath the surface, a whirlpool of emotions churned.
