Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
“You disappoint me,” Lord Benedict Hale, the Duke of Northwick laughed as he guided Thalia across the dancefloor.
“And why is that?” Thalia laughed along.
“I thought you would be a more capable dancer than this!” He pulled her body in close; one hand was placed firmly on the small of her back. “Put your body into it, Your Grace.”
“Your Grace?” Thalia cocked an eyebrow at him.
He winked. “Just being formal.”
“I would rather that you did not,” she scoffed.
“And what would the people think if they heard me being so familiar with you.” He winked playfully. “That is how rumor begins.”
“Oh, I do not think that will be a problem.”
“Why not?”
“Because…” She flashed her eyes wickedly at her brother’s friend. “No one in their right mind would ever suspect that someone like me would waste their time with someone like you. It is simply that unbelievable.”
“Are you trying to hurt me?”
“Is it working?”
“A little too easily,” Benedict laughed.
They danced closely. They danced with passion. They danced as if they owned the floor that they moved along, as if the music was written for them, as if the survival of the very world depended on this singular dance and how well it was performed.
Thalia had not meant to find herself dancing with Benedict.
When she and Caspian had agreed to attend tonights Ball, they did so under the presumption that they would spend the entire evening hanging off one another’s arms as if to separate would see one of them die.
They were going to be close. They were going to be loving.
Dammit, they were going to prove to all those who doubted them how sound and perfect their marriage was.
They had no choice, seeing as the rumors that Lord Donmere was spreading weren’t going anywhere. For that reason, they both realized that tonight’s ball was not something they needed to go to, but something that they had to go to.
Thalia was looking forward to it. As was Caspian… even if he would never say so out loud. But I know him darn well by now, and I know how eager he was for tonight’s festivities.
The evening had started as planned. They arrived together, walking arm in arm, smiling as one, laughing at jokes, greeting friends, and existing together as if they were the happiest couple on this earth.
They were no longer awkward around one another, and Caspian was no longer as stiff.
It had been a natural state of being, born from the direction this marriage was slowly heading in.
When Caspian needed to retire to the washroom, however, Benedict had chosen that moment to swoop in and ask for a dance. Ordinarily, Thalia would not have said yes, but this was Benedict, a man she’d known for most of her life, so she chose not to see the harm in it.
Now that they were dancing, she wondered if perhaps she should have reconsidered…
“This song is certainly long.” Thalia did her best not to be too familiar with Benedict as they danced. She kept her hips back, her chest free, and made sure her face did not drift too close.
“Growing bored are we?” he laughed as he tried to pull her in closer. He led them as they danced, and she could see how frustrated he was becoming by her stiffness.
“Just wondering if my husband misses me,” she joked.
He rolled his eyes. “I doubt he’s even noticed you are gone.”
“That is where you are wrong…” As they danced, Thalia searched the ballroom for Caspian, unable to find him among the masses.
“Tell me, how is marriage to His Grace?” Benedict asked, still trying to pull her body in close so he could properly lead. “I expect it is rather stiff.”
She laughed. “You would be surprised.”
“Oh?”
“He is kinder than you would think,” she said with a smile. “And not nearly as boring as you imply.”
“Lies!” He threw back his head and laughed. “You know, I still can’t help but wonder what might have happened if you and I had ever –”
“Oh, enough of that,” she chastised him playfully. “Lest I tell my husband what you have been saying.” She cocked an eyebrow at him. “A conversation I do not think you would enjoy.”
She knew that Benedict was only teasing her, and that he was not being truthful about the so-called marriage proposal. But that did not stop her from feeling slightly guilty, as if by even dancing with the man she was giving him the wrong idea.
And if not him, the ton. As she danced, she cast her gaze wider, taking notice now of those who were watching. What had felt like an innocent dance was now laced with double meanings and danger.
Which is exactly what I was trying to avoid!
“Is something the matter?” Benedict asked when he noticed the change taking over Thalia.
“No,” she said carefully. “I was just…”
“Just what?”
It was then that her eyes fell on Caspian. He stood at the front of the crowd, on the edge of the dancefloor, and the expression he wore as he watched her dance was rueful.
“Just looking for my husband.” She swallowed the lump in her throat, unable to look away from Caspian who was still watching.
It was hard to tell exactly what her husband was thinking.
Her first thought was that he must be angry with her. They had come here this evening precisely to swat away rumors about them and their marriage, and to be seen dancing with another man would undo all the hard work they had done.
But Thalia looked closer at Caspian, and she started to understand the look in his eyes from a different point of view.
He didn’t look angry so much as he looked upset.
But not with sadness, rather annoyance, as if he was at fault.
There was jealousy burning in his eyes, a hunger paired with it, and as he watched her and Benedict dance, she could literally see the effort it was taking for him to stand there in silence rather than storm across the floor toward them.
“He does not look so happy, does he?” Benedict noted when he saw Caspian watching them.
“No…” She could not look away from him. “He does not.”
Was it so wrong that seeing how upset her husband was lit a fire inside of Thalia? That the idea of him growing angry to see her with another man made her feel excited?
For so long, Thalia had searched for proof that Caspian cared about her.
And not in ways that were typical; a husband wanting what was best for his wife.
Rather, that he wanted her. That he needed her.
She wanted proof that the single night they had spent together meant something to him, as it did to her.
I have it now, the proof I need. The question thus becomes, what is he going to do about it…
This was a question that Caspian answered within minutes.
The moment that the music stopped and Thalia and Benedict slowed down, Caspian strode across the dance floor and right toward them. There was darkness in his eyes, a curl to his lip, and Thalia had never seen the man wear so much emotion on his face.
“Your Grace…” Benedict took a step back when he saw Caspian approach, and while Benedict was ordinarily gay and charming, she could sense the panic rippling through him. “I hope you do not mind, that I asked your wife for a dance.”
Caspian ignored him as he reached for Thalia’s hand.
When he took it, he squeezed tight as if daring her to try and pull away.
She looked from his hand to his eyes and she nearly gasped.
The way he was looking at her… I have seen that look just the one time, and it certainly wasn’t in a ballroom with hundreds of people about.
“It is time we leave,” Caspian growled. “Now.”
Thalia did not deny him. She did not think herself capable. Her voice caught in her throat, her legs trembled, and it was all she could do to follow her husband without looking as if he was dragging her away.
“I am sorry for dancing with Lord Northwick,” she said softly as he continued to pull her through the ballroom. “He asked and I did not think.”
Caspian said nothing. He held her hand but walked ahead, his stride assured and powerful, forcing those before them to part out of the way lest they were trampled.
They exited the ballroom together, and then the manor. Down the driveway, Caspian steered her, his sight set on their carriage. He indicated to the driver, who was quick to whip the horses into action and steer it toward them,
There, they stood, waiting.
Still, Caspian held her by the hand, but he did not look at her. She could feel his body shaking, and she could see behind his eyes that same look that he’d held when he had approached her on the dance floor. He was not angry. He was not upset. He was… something else.
“Caspian…” Thalia said. “Are you… well?”
He ignored her as the carriage approached. Once it pulled up, and the door was open, he directed her forward and helped her climb inside.
She tripped up and fell into the carriage, which suddenly felt very small. Spinning around, Thalia’s heart leapt through her throat when Caspian clambered inside and slammed the door closed behind him.
Alone now, the curtains drawn, silence upon them, and Thalia did not know what to say or what to do.
She sat down. She tried not to fidget. She looked from Caspian to the curtains to her lap to anywhere that she could. And all the while, she felt Caspian watching her.
He sat across from her. His stare was fixed.
Thalia looked at him, then away. Her breathing grew ragged.
Her body trembled. She was not scared, because that’s not what this was about.
Rather, excitement began to ripple up her body, the sense that Caspian was about to do something that she could never have expected but now made so much sense that she could not believe she hadn’t seen it coming.
All this time, I wondered how to draw a reaction out of Caspian. If I had known it would be so easy to do as this, I might have acted far sooner. Save myself the headache.
“It’s my fault,” he said, his tone dark and low.
“Excuse me?”