Page 38 of Claimed By the Duke of Ice

She waited patiently until she was sure they could speak openly and then whispered, “What happened to your gloves?”

Nathaniel looked down at his hands, annoyance flickering over his face.

“Some fool spilled their whiskey,” he retorted. “Got it inside my gloves and on my cuffs. I have them tucked away in my jacket pocket. Anyway, now that we’ve made a few rounds, I believe we can go home. Shall we?”

Grace looked longingly toward the dance floor where many lovely couples were being spun about to the tune of the music.

“Actually, my dear husband,” Grace replied softly, taking another small step toward him. “I was hoping we could do one more thing before we leave.”

“Yes?” Nathaniel asked readily.

“Well, as intimate and lovely as our wedding was, it really had no formal reception,” she explained demurely. “Which, of course, means that I was awarded no dance with my husband. Perhaps, since we are here and the music is so lovely, we could remedy that?”

Nathaniel’s face fell as he pulled his hands out of his pockets then he stared down at them. Grace immediately noticed and shook her head.

“Never mind, Your Grace,” Grace said quickly, feeling guilty for her selfishness. “Apologies. Come, let us go.”

“No,” Nathaniel replied, flexing his hands. “You are right. Please, let us attend the dance floor.”

Exuberance traveled through Grace as Nathaniel grasped her hand and began to lead her to the dance floor. She had forgotten how warm and encompassing his bare hands were, and as he gave her a gentle twirl, she felt her smile grow wide across her face.

“Do you dance often?” she asked as they moved into a waltz.

Nathaniel let out a chortle and rolled his eyes.

“Hardly ever. Though I am sure you can tell,” he replied.

“Quite the contrary,” Grace negated. “I think you move quite handsomely.”

Nathaniel lifted an amused brow as they moved into another circle and chuckled.

“You are trying to save your husband’s feelings, wife,” he replied dryly, “and while that is kind, it is not necessary to speak a lie.”

“I speak no lies, dear husband,” she replied warmly, moving with him into their final steps.

Nathaniel’s smirk widened into a grin as the song ended, and as they bowed to one another, she saw that now-familiar warmth in his eyes. The kind that grew there when he wanted to touch her.

“I believe we should go now,” Grace urged, hoping to carry their good exchange into the ride home. Perhaps, she hoped, there would be a repeat of the other day.

“Yes, I think so too,” Nathaniel murmured, his eyes moving up and down her person.

Grace’s body began to immediately respond to the change in Nathaniel’s tone, and she fell in step with him as they left the dance floor. Suddenly, before either of them knew what was happening, a man in a fine suit was standing squarely in front of Nathaniel, already reaching for his hand. Grace watched in horror as her husband froze at the man’s encompassing handshake. Immediately, the heated look that had just loomed in his gaze vanished and was replaced with a cold, hard stare.

“Billings,” Nathaniel greeted coldly, loosening his hand. “I thought you were in Normandy or some place wooing some noblewoman?”

“What can I say?” Billings replied, his gaze shifting to Grace. Her body convulsed repulsively as the man looked her heatedly up and down. “Some conquests are harder than others. This one was particularly easy.”

“Happy for you, old boy,” Nathaniel grunted back, already moving away. Grace noticed how he had started rubbing his hands together stressfully, and her heart sank. They had been so close.

“But you will have to regale me some other time,” Nathaniel continued. “We were just leaving.”

Billings called to them, asking for an introduction of the new Duchess, but Nathaniel ignored him as he made quick work to get out of the room. Not wanting to lose him, Grace followed quickly. Once they were back out into the foyer, Nathaniel turned to her, his face once more set in his usual cold stare.

“Make your way to the carriage, Grace,” he commanded, already walking backward and away from her. “I shall join you shortly.”

Knowing that her husband was most likely leaving to wash his hands, Grace obeyed without a word. She hoped, when Nathaniel joined her in the carriage, that she could turn the evening back around. However, as he climbed in with her just a few moments later, she knew it would be no use. Nathaniel, her husband, was back hidden inside of him, and Nathaniel, the strict Duke, had taken over once again.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

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