Page 4 of A Lady's Stardust Passion
So, it was just the duchess who smiled at them. She wore a dark gown with feathers in her hair and she smiled, greeting them all. But there was a little sadness in her eyes, and Jane wondered if it was to do with her husband’s illness.
“You are most welcome, Lord and Lady Barnet,” The Duchess said kindly.
“Thank you very much for the invitation, Your Grace. This is my niece, Lady Jane Caldwell.”
“Oh, I’ve heard much about. Lovely to meet you,” the duchess said, then turning to the side and reaching out a hand.
“Your Grace,” Jane said as she curtsied low, and the duchess spoke again. “And here is my son, Nathaniel, the Marquess of Balwood.”
Slowly, Jane rose, her hands clasped in front of her, and then her eyes met Nathaniel’s. She had briefly seen the back of him as they’d approached. He was still in conversation with the guest just before them in line. But now, he stood before them with his hands behind his back, watching her.
Jane had never read a romantic novel in her life, but her dear friend Margaret loved them and read them voraciously. She also often told Jane what the stories entailed. Jane had always laughed at the ridiculousness of them, but at that moment meeting the Marquess of Balwood, she rather felt like a character in one of Margaret’s novels.
Her breath stopped, and the sound around them dimmed as she sunk into the hazel gaze of the most handsome man she had ever seen in her life. He was tall with chestnut hair and broad shoulders, shoulders that seemed out of place on a man of his station.
They might have been more appropriate on a sailor or dock worker. His dark coat fit snugly along his muscles, and Jane blinked a few times, wondering if anyone had said anything for several minutes.
“A pleasure to meet you,” the marquess said finally, his voice low, sending little tingles left in her belly.
“And you,” she somehow managed to croak out.
She curtsied, finally tearing her gaze away from him. And then her aunt and uncle made their own greetings, and she shuffled along, wondering what had just happened. On weak knees, she walked away, glad that her aunt was by her side and had her hand on Jane’s arm.
“Rather dashing, is he not?” her Aunt Sarah whispered with a smile once they were out of earshot.
“Yes,” Jane said plainly, still dumbstruck by whatever had happened between them. “Very dashing indeed.”
Certainly, the man was unequivocally handsome, but Jane could not shake the feeling that she had felt those same strange feelings before from the man in her dream.
Nathaniel’s eyes lingered on Lady Jane Caldwell’s back as she walked away with her aunt and uncle.
Who in God’s name is that?
He was twenty-eight years old, and he’d had his fair share of women. But never, not once, had one look at a woman lifted his desire to such a state that threatened to consume him. His muscles were tight, and there was a tingle in his stomach, and his skin heated.
Those eyes, blue and bright, were like the color of a frozen lake. And she had dark raven-black hair that he’d had the strange urge to run his hands through. She had stared right back at him too, and he wondered if she had felt the same thing that had buzzed between them like something living. She was mesmerizing andastonishing. Her figure full, but also trim, and her lovely pink lips were already burned in his mind.
His mother leaned over and whispered, “You remember the stories of Lady Jane Caldwell? She is the one who inherited her father’s wealth, the late Earl of Claridge. He had no son and, while the title went to his nephew, he made sure that his daughter was well provided for.”
His mother turned and greeted the next round of guests while Nathaniel’s mind whirred. He tried his best to smile and to greet as well as he could, but he was entirely distracted. The most beautiful woman that he’d ever set eyes on was also wonderfully wealthy.
A little hope sparked inside him that his sacrifice might not be the sacrifice he thought it would be, if he could find a woman like that. Eventually, the greeting of the guests finished, and he left for the ballroom, eager to see her again. But he bumped into his friend Thomas Fitzgerald on the way.
“Now, you look all done in already, my friend,” said with a laugh, falling into step beside him as they entered the ballroom.
“I suppose I am in a way,” Nathaniel said, shaking his head, still trying to rid himself of the sudden spell he’d been put under that was lasting far longer than he expected.
“I see,” Thomas trailed off beside him. “Who is she then?” he asked, making Nathaniel spin around to face him.
“What do you--?” he asked, and Thomas chuckled, shrugging, his brown eyes sparkling.
“There is only one way someone can look the way you do, and usually, a beautiful woman is the cause of it.”
“Ha! And how do you know that?” Nathaniel asked, and then Thomas’ gaze moved upward to the stairs that led down into the ballroom, his face looking just exactly what Nathaniel imagined his had looked like while staring at Lady Jane.
“What—” he began, and then turned to see his sister at the top of the stairs, smiling, and slowly making her way down.
Ah, Emily. Of course.
