Chapter 19

CHAPTER 19

“ Y ou look positively radiant, dear sister,” Diana complimented as Selina added a final pin to her hair.

Selina couldn’t help but agree as she looked at herself in the mirror. She was wearing the burnt orange dress—a favorite among her new commissions. She had been saving the dress for the final ball, but needing to recover from how soundly the Duke had shattered her heart yet again, she needed some armor that would guarantee she stood proudly in the hall.

Then again, she had worn it while hoping that he would see her and regret his actions.

The dress gave a creamy glow to her skin and brought out the golden highlights in her hair. Even her green eyes sparkled like jewels. She frowned, remembering that he had complimented her eyes once.

She squared her shoulders and put on the gloves that he had bought for her, reminding herself not to waste a single minute of her night thinking about him.

“Thank you, Sister.” She smiled, rising from the bench. “You look marvelous as well. Your beau is going to have a hard time keeping his eyes off you.”

She smiled as her sister blushed and dipped her head with an undeniably guilty smile.

“You exaggerate, Selina,” Diana retorted.

“I do not,” Selina rebuffed with a raised eyebrow and a wink. “Do not think that your long absences have gone unnoticed.”

“Speaking of long absences, we’re nearly late,” Diana said, hurriedly changing the subject.

Selina did not push, considering they were indeed late.

They walked quickly to the ballroom, waiting till they were announced before stepping inside with slow, graceful steps to allow the guests to observe them.

Selina remembered to keep her back straight, allowing her eyes to sweep over the room with subtle interest. The small smile on her face painted her as approachable but not desperate, even though her heart pounded as she tried to interpret the expressions on the guests’ faces.

The guests watched them descend the stairs with wide eyes, and there were a few open mouths. She could only hope she wasn’t grossly overdressed for the occasion, or it would be even more of a scandal than being underdressed.

She allowed her self one last survey of the room secretly hoping she would spot the Duke’s dark head in the crowd, but there was nothing to be seen. A frown crossed her face, but briefly. It wouldn’t do to elicit whispers now.

She got to the bottom of the stairs and hoped her descent had caused a gentleman or two to take interest enough to assist her down, as that would show that her entrance had made a good mark.

Her fears were assuaged when a few gentlemen approached her before she even reached the bottom step, extending a hand towards her. She tried not to let her nervousness show and accepted the hand of the gentleman closest to her. Lord Westbrook, if she remembered correctly. She smiled at him and curtsied to thank him.

He placed a chaste kiss on the back of her gloved hand, but there was no spark of desire or interest, even though he was handsome in a boyish way, unlike the Duke’s more refined, mature look.

Stop it.

The night was supposed to be about her having fun and mingling with suitors, not comparing them to the Duke. The fact that they couldn’t even compete on an equal plane would not help her forget him quickly and focus on securing an advantageous match.

“Thank you, Lord Westbrook,” she said with a smile.

“You are most welcome, Lady Selina.” Lord Westbrook smiled, still holding her hand. “Might I add, you look especially beautiful tonight. You put even the flowers to shame.”

She feigned a blush as was expected, remembering to fan her face softly. She gave him a bold look over her fan and lowered her lashes. She saw his interest rise and smiled, knowing he had been caught in her trap.

The Duke had been right, after all. But the fact did not seem as pleasing as it had before.

“Might I interest you in a dance, Lady Selina?” Lord Bourne asked, bowing with an outstretched hand.

She gave him her dance card, and he wrote down his name. Lord Westbrook and Lord Dwight followed right after. She tried not to look at her nearly full dance card with surprise, as that would be the first time she had ever seen so many eager names on it, but she couldn’t feel the thrill she had expected to feel at being highly sought after.

She felt like an imposter, using skills the Duke had taught her and employing the fashion tactics on which he had educated her. None of this was a victory she had secured on her own.

Two earls and a viscount sought her attention, yet they held no appeal for her. There was a gnawing numbness in her chest that did not allow her the pleasure of considering her newfound popularity as anything other than a chore.

The weight of the guests’ eyes on her as she crossed the room and mingled made her feel uneasy.

Can they see through the act I am putting on?

She walked quickly towards the balcony, needing air as the weight of their gazes started to constrict her chest. She placed a hand on her throat as her heart started to beat rapidly from lack of air, hoping she did not faint and cause a scene.

“What being could have been so powerful as to put a frown on your face, Lady Selina?” a familiar voice asked, amused.

She turned to see that it was Peter who had walked up to her. He was holding two glasses of punch.

“Peter.” She smiled and curtsied. “It was the lack of your company that had me in a sour mood.”

He smiled brightly—her flirtatious words had hit their target.

She really wanted to feel something for this man before her, who happened to share her sense of humor.

“I am glad I was able to find you so quickly then.” He handed her a glass. “You should have this.”

“I do not feel parched,” she said stubbornly, but she accepted it nonetheless.

“You will soon.” He smiled and picked up her dance card, which dangled from her wrist, allowing his hands to brush against hers. “I intend to dance with you until then.”

Her breath caught in her chest at his boldness, but other than that reaction, there was no spark. Her body remained annoyingly calm. She was grateful he was busy filling the remaining spots on her dance card, or he would have surely been put out by the frown on her face.

“Oh. I seem to have come a little too late,” he said, frowning as he spotted the names that had taken up most of the slots on her card. “There are barely any available slots left, but that is to be expected, considering you look as wonderful as ever tonight.”

“You flatter me.” She smiled as shyly as she was supposed to, lowering her eyelashes.

He looked taken aback by her reaction, a flush climbing up his cheeks, and then he coughed into his hands, shaking his head.

“The dances are starting, and I see your first partner waiting for you,” he said with a smile. “I shall be patiently waiting my turn.”

She handed him her glass and turned to see Lord Bourne waiting to lead her to the dance floor. She accepted his arm, nodding her thanks, and took her place as the first strains of the galliard started.

The dance was a mid-paced one, which she followed with precision, remembering to smile and look up at her partner, who smiled in return. When they stepped closer, he kept a proper distance.

“You dance beautifully, Lady Selina,” he praised as the dance came to a close.

“You dance even better than me, Lord Bourne.”

“Lady Selina, shall we?” Lord Westbrook asked, interrupting.

Was she not going to have even a moment of respite?

She nodded, placing her hand in his, and by the time the dance came to an end, she was tired. Her next partner came, and soon she was silently begging for the freedom she had enjoyed before.

She quickly stepped off the dance floor as the next dance started, dodging the eyes of Lord Fein as he looked through the crush for her.

She pressed a hand to her chest and darted towards the balcony, where she hid behind a velvet curtain like a coward, in an alcove that was too small and uncomfortably hot. But she weathered the storm, preferring it to the one she would face if she stepped out of her hiding place.

She heaved a deep sigh of relief as she heard the first strains of the next dance.

“I take it you’re fed up with tonight’s festivities,” a voice said from above her.

She looked up quickly in surprise, then relaxed when she saw that it was Peter.

“You’ve caught me in one too many improper places, Peter.” She smiled, shaking her head as she stepped back into the ballroom.

She didn’t want to be in such a confined space with him, where anyone could walk in on them and catch them alone.

“I won’t tell if you don’t.” He winked.

She nodded. “Still,” she insisted, “I feel I must fix my reputation. It is really unflattering to be seen in such a light.”

“I assure you, dear, that your reputation has suffered no blows on my part,” he said. “You’re much the same in my eyes—charming with a wicked sense of humor.”

“Wicked sense of humor?” she gasped.

“Indeed. You can’t deny the opinion fits.”

“Unique is the word I would have used.”

“If you say so,” he relented.

The dance came to an end, and he held out a hand to her with a comical flourish that had her smiling.

“I am your partner for the next dance, My Lady.”

“You won’t spare my aching feet the pleasure?” she asked, hoping he would.

“I promise not to step on your feet.”

She frowned but took his hand nonetheless. Her aunt Martha’s glare was scalding even from across the room.

“I can see you do not care much for the attention you have been getting,” Peter noted as he led her through the steps.

“I do not,” she admitted, feeling that she could trust him not to use that information in a cynical manner. “It is all so…”

“Overwhelming?” he supplied.

She nodded.

“It is the same for me. I would never have come had it not been for my mother’s constant pestering to find myself a wife.” He sighed. “But I believe my search will end soon, and I will be spared the effort.”

“You won’t be allowed to shun the Season even though you are married,” she pointed out.

“Yes, but I can at least use spending time with my bride as an excuse for the first few years,” he answered, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

She couldn’t help but giggle conspiratorially at the impropriety of his words. It seemed that she tended to attract men who were so thoroughly improper. Not that she minded.

She had never really liked the stiff conversations with prim and proper gentlemen and their archaic views of society’s value system.

Selina wasn’t ignorant of the double meaning behind Peter’s earlier words and hoped he did not intend to propose too quickly.

She hated the fact that even though he seemed like the best possible match she could ever hope to make—considering his pedigree and how well they got on—he did not bore her and press her to conform to the ideals of Society. Rather, he shared her opinions, and she liked his company, but after having experienced everything that she had with the Duke, it just wasn’t enough.

There was no inkling of desire in her blood. Not even Peter’s touch had made her crave more. His presence did not cause her to lose her train of thought or spark anything more than the warmth of seeing a good friend.

Friendship wasn’t enough to start a marriage.

She would not be able to fulfill her wifely duties when even the thought of him kissing her had her cringing inwardly. The idea of him seeing her or touching her the way the Duke had was entirely inconceivable.

She finally understood why the scriptures said that it was better not to stir up love until it was time.

The appetites she had developed as a result of her dalliances with the Duke had her searching for something she might never experience again. For all she knew, he was one of few gentlemen willing to be so improper with a woman, and she would be stuck with a subpar marriage bed.

She should never have indulged the way she had.

“It will only be permissible for the first year.” She smiled despite the feelings raging inside her.

“I highly doubt that. Everyone knows that it takes much longer for a man to grow bored with his bride. I do not intend to be that sort.” He added the last part quickly, which made her laugh.

“It still wouldn’t be an excuse to miss so many balls.”

“Shall we put a wager on it then?” he asked with a wink. “I really want to test that theory.”

His eyes were bright and happy, and she saw the feelings in them quite clearly. He was smitten with her. She wasn’t so blind that she couldn’t see it, and it scared her how obvious his feelings were.

“I must warn you, Peter,” she cautioned. “I never lose, and I am truly tempted to see whether you are right on this matter.”

“We shall see then.”

He bowed to her while she curtsied as the dance came to an end. He led her by the hand to her aunt, bowing over it and placing a kiss that lingered long enough to show his affection before he left.

Martha smiled proudly as she watched him retreat. “I hear wedding bells,” she crooned, linking her arm with Selina’s. “You have done well, dear girl. That man is taken with you.”

Selina smiled as her aunt expected her to, but there was no mirth or joy behind her smile. Those words did not please her as much as they would have a week ago, when she hadn’t felt the things she did for the Duke.

“Good evening, Lady Riddington,” his familiar voice said from behind her.

She shivered at his proximity, incensed that he could still elicit such a reaction from her when he had hurt her so badly. She turned around, putting some distance between them, but it still wasn’t enough to quell the annoying flutter in her chest.

She felt hope. Hope that perhaps he had decided that he did not want to be without her and that he felt the same way she did. But she quashed it as soon as it came.

She had allowed the vapid thought free rein before and had been hurt soundly. If she were that foolish again, she would have no one else to blame but herself for thinking such.

After all, he had only showered her with physical attention and had not shown a real interest in her likes or anything that a man interested in a woman would ask about. Everything she felt had been a result of her desperation for a match, misconstruing what had otherwise been a temporary lapse in judgment on his part.

“Good evening, Your Grace,” Martha said with a curtsey, glaring at her so she did the same. “I feared we would not have the pleasure of your company tonight.”

“I was a little occupied, but I am here now.” He smiled politely at her. “Good evening, Lady Selina. I hope the ball is to your taste?”

“It is, Your Grace,” Selina answered, surprised at how cold her voice sounded.

He wasn’t unfazed by her cool response, but he nodded. His next words stunned her even more than the polite bow he executed as he extended his hand towards her.

“May I have this dance, Lady Selina?”

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