Page 60 of Her Tiger of a Duke
As they walked away, Owen was relieved that the discussion was as easy as it had been. They left for the dance floor, awaiting the first song of the evening, when Beatrice laughed softly.
“I was expecting far worse than that,” she explained. “Mrs. Forsythe made it seem as though Lady Pembroke had barbed wire for teeth, or a knife for a tongue.”
“She usually does, but it is as I told you. As a duchess, she cannot say a thing against you. This will be a good night, and that will only be proven once you and I have danced.”
Before the music could begin, however, another young couple joined them. Owen did not recognize them, and it seemed that Beatrice did not either.
“Good evening, Your Grace,” the young lady said to Beatrice. “It is so nice to meet you. My name is Lady Redfern, and this is my husband.”
They introduced one another, and though Owen was often slow to trust people, they seemed nice enough for him to be comfortable.
“I wanted to tell you that your gown is incredible,” she explained. “It is by far my favorite of the night. If I may, might you be able to give me the name of your seamstress? I am hoping that she is in London.”
“Alas, she is the dressmaker who lives in our village. Her name is Madame Dupont, and she truly is magical.”
“Oh, that is such a shame. I may just have to visit your village and frequent her shop; else I might steal her away entirely and have her move to London!”
“I truly cannot believe that she is not there already. She is most talented, and she would be able to make a name for herself there. Granted, I am far happier that she is with us in the village.”
Owen and Lord Redfern turned away to have their own conversation, for though Owen liked to listen to his wife, thesubject of gowns was not particularly thrilling to him. Lord Redfern seemed to be of the same opinion.
“A married man,” Lord Redfern nodded. “How has it been?”
“Enlightening, certainly. I was not expecting to be as happy as I am now.”
“Yes, well, given the circumstances, it has all been quite the surprise. The forbidden love match that succeeded, from what my wife has told me.”
It had been so long that Owen had forgotten that that was the story they had told. He chuckled, prepared to play the part.
“Yes, well, I am pleased that it all happened the way that it did. My wife knew what the right thing to do was, and she made herself known.”
“And it worked in her favor. Might you know what became of your other betrothed? My wife tells me they were friends.”
“They were, and Lady Helena was most happy for the two of us. She has gone to visit her aunt in the North for a while, so that she can consider what she wants in a marriage, and she will return soon if all goes well.”
“Good. It has been plaguing Lady Redfern that a lady has gone unaccounted for since everything happened. She will be glad to know that Lady Helena is happy after all.”
“She was never sad. All three of us knew that it was wrong, and that an old arrangement paled in comparison to the love that my wife and I share .It was simply my wife who had the courage to say it.”
They turned to see that the ladies had been listening. Lady Redfern smiled softly at them, and Beatrice’s cheeks were pink even beneath the rouge. At that moment, the music began, which meant only one thing.
It was time to dance.
Owen took Beatrice’s gloved hand, and they made their way to the dance floor. Around them, people left a space and there were plenty of people that approached only to watch them. It was a waltz, a scandalous dance which did not bode well when their situation was as precarious as it was, but in that moment Owen did not care. He placed a hand on Beatrice’s waist, and they danced together.
It was a closeness that he relished, for they had not danced since the day they practiced in their own ballroom. She felt exquisite in his hands, and he wished that the music would play for hours.
“Is this what you were hoping for?” he asked.
“It is indeed,” she replied. “Though I would have preferred to have less eyes on us.”
“Why? You are worth looking at, you know.”
It was true. Yes, her gown was a work of art, but if Beatrice was not beautiful in her own right, then it would have overtaken her. Instead, she shone, and even if everyone there had worn something of equal quality, she would have been the most beautiful lady there.
“I suppose I am afraid,” she said softly as he spun her around, “that if they look at me too closely, they will not like what they see, and then the rumors will spread regardless of who I am.”
“Well, you need not be concerned about that. In two conversations, you have made a better showing for yourself than anyone I have ever known.”
