Page 48 of Healing the Duke's Desires
Her eyelids fluttered wildly, as if by blinking heavily, she might somehow banish the sight before her or at least pretend that it was not happening. If only such a thing were possible.
Across the resplendent ballroom, nestled in a corner adorned with intricate floral arrangements, stood Lord Ashfordshire and the Marquess of Thornton. Their hushed conversation was imbued with an air of both camaraderie and solemnity, a reflection of the weighty topic they were undoubtedly discussing—the upcoming nuptials on the horizon.
The two sisters stood side by side, unable to take their eyes off of the two men, although there were many others around them, stealing them from plain view. The marquess, tall and distinguished, exuded an aura of authority befitting his status as a respected figure among society’s elite.
His tailored evening attire, resplendent in deep hues of navy and silver, matched his darkly somber expression. The candlelight flickered against his features as he seemed to dominate the conversation, his gestures exaggerated and overdone. Emily could not imagine being married to this man, even if he were the very last man on earth.
“What do you think they are talking about?” Sarah asked with a hushed tone of voice, under which fear bubbled softly.
The orchestra’s melodies swelled and faded around them, a backdrop to their conversation. The room, with its grandeur and elegance, seemed to amplify the weight of their words, casting a veneer of significance over their every utterance.
Emily felt as if all the conversations taking place around them seemed to merge together with the marquess’ demands, revealing a horrifying truth, which was that everyone here would approve of their match wholeheartedly.
“There’s only one thing they could be talking about,” Emily responded, turning around.
She didn’t want to look at them. She didn’t want to know anything of what they were discussing. Why would she? She had promised herself she would do everything in her power to speak to Alexander and make him see that their kisses could not have been mistakes.
Nothing that was wrong could feel so utterly right. She was certain that these kisses were the diverging of a path into new and unexplored directions, which she yearned to discover with him.
What about the duchess’ words,a small, treacherous voice inside of her wondered, teasing her with the weight of its whispers. It was still impossible to forget them. But that didn’t matter. Her intention wasn’t to force the memory of his late wife out of his mind and heart, but rather to show him that happiness still existed for him. And if his late wife loved him, she would want him to be happy. Emily could not imagine it any other way, had it been her.
“Tomorrow is the day?” Sarah wondered.
“Mmhmm.” Emily nodded, her throat becoming drier and drier with each passing moment. “But I don’t want to talk about it or even think about it now. I’ll deal with it tomorrow.”
“Deal with what tomorrow?” A cheerful voice approached from her back, and both ladies recognized it immediately.
“Henry!” Sarah exclaimed, her eyes widening like a doe’s at the sight of him. He returned that loving gaze, his smile radiating a genuine joy that reached Sarah’s eyes. The air around them seemed to shimmer with an unspoken connection, a magnetic pull that was palpable even from a distance.
“I apologize for the interruption,” he said, bowing before them, not missing the opportunity to kiss Sarah’s hand, which immediately sent a flutter of rosiness to her cheeks.
“You didn’t interrupt anything important, don’t worry.” Emily smiled, watching them both.
Sarah’s eyes would not leave Henry as he stood in front of her, clad in a sophisticated black tailcoat and crisp white cravat. His mere presence seemed to illuminate Sarah’s world, casting a glow over it that was unmistakably amorous.
“You look… lovely,” Henry said, almost gasping. “I apologize for the lack of a better word.”
“That word is… lovely,” Sarah said equally awkwardly, which made them both burst into a chuckle. “You also look dashing.”
“Thank you.” He beamed. “I see you ladies have not partaken in any refreshments yet. Might I offer you some?”
“Why don’t you two go and fetch us something to drink?” Emily suggested, sensing that they wanted to swoon over each other. For them, it seemed that the world didn’t exist, and although they were surrounded by dozens of people, they felt as if they were alone together.
“Are you sure?” Sarah asked, slightly apprehensive. Emily knew her sister could sense something was wrong, as always.
“Absolutely,” Emily assured her.
Sarah did not ask twice. She locked arms with Henry and together, they headed to the refreshments table. As for Emily, her eyes swept across the room in search of Alexander’s familiar form, a quiet yearning coloring her thoughts. The waltz’s melodies continued to fill the air, carrying with them a sense of longing that mirrored her own.
Amidst the swirl of elegantly attired guests and the enchanting melody of the waltz, Emily’s searching gaze finally settled upon a figure that made her heart skip a beat. There, standing at the fringes of the grand ballroom, was Alexander. Time seemed to slow, and the world around her faded into a gentle blur as her eyes fixed upon him.
Dressed in a tailored black suit that emphasized his commanding presence, Alexander stood with an air of quiet confidence. His dark hair was meticulously groomed, and his gaze held a depth that seemed to reach into the recesses of her soul. In the soft glow of the ballroom’s chandeliers, he was a vision of heaven.
Emily’s breath caught in her throat as her gaze locked onto his, and for a moment, it felt as though they were the only two people in the room. The waltz’s lilting melody became a distant hum as their connection intensified. It was as if the universe had aligned to create this single, suspended moment.
As the waltz reached its crescendo, the grand ballroom seemed to come alive with a symphony of emotions—love, longing, and the delicate thread of fate that intertwined the lives of those gathered. Emily’s gaze remained fixed, her spirit resilient as she held onto the belief that amidst the swirling dance of the evening, her own story was still unfolding.
Chapter 28
