Chapter 22
Dance Card
“Istill can’t believe that this is still the same season. The one that I helped my sisters enter, me a little obscure. And then shunned totally because of the sheets before admitted, courted by you and now...” Prim looked out the window as the carriage rode through London.
“Now, your first ball as Lady Mildenhall,” Leo said, watching her fumbling with her gloves.
“Makes your head spin for sure.”
“I’d rather your head stayed exactly where it is.”
“I’ll try to hold on to it.”
Prim looked out the window, biting her lip.
“Talk to me, Prim,” Leo said. “You look as if your head might actually spin.”
“What if they say ruined within my earshot?”
“Let them. If being the Duchess of Mildenhall is ruin, then so be it.”
“They know you were forced-”
“They know what I told them. I courted you and saw you worthy of a position half the ladies coveted. The other half was already married.”
“Such arrogance!”
“Not if it’s facts. Let their envy poison them, not you.”
“I will try.”
“Try is for failures,” Leo said resolutely. “You will succeed.”
“You give me too much credit.”
“Prim, you will be fine. You don’t fully understand the weight of the name you carry. Granted, you were never dazed by the title, but it holds merit and authority. And I am officially allowed to destroy people for hurting you.”
“I don’t think that is the law exactly,” Prim teased.
“I am interpreting it,” Leo teased back. “Remember, Prim, you are a Duchess.”
“Your Duchess.”
He pauses for a second and looks at her in the carriage, the gentle moonlight pouring in, bathing her in a silver light. She was transformed into an ethereal beauty.
“My Duchess,” he said finally.
“Sir,” the driver cut through the moment. “We are almost there.”
Prim flew to glue herself to the window, her lemon scent filling the air. Leo smiled. He was the one to bathe her in her cute bathtub on his knees on the floor, kissing her wet lips while he used his hand to be… thorough.
“This is magnificent!” Her enthusiasm was enough to drown all his excitement in lemon water.
The Deveraux mansion shone up ahead like a golden confection against the black night. Leo insisted they came in fashionably late to make the impression everyone was expecting of them. By this hour, the place was fully lit by candles, and the music was wafting through the air.
They arrived at the entrance, and Leo helped Prim out.
She held onto his fingers a little tighter than her usual elegance.
Leo studied her face as she was taking in the elegant facade of the Deveraux mansion.
The Greco-Roman pillars and the arched windows made the mansion one of the most sophisticated in London.
“The Devereaux have impeccable taste,” Prim said.
“They do. The Marchiones is the real power behind their household. She is an elegant elderly woman with an iron spine and a distaste for most of the ton. Her husband owes me several backings of his bills. I didn’t choose this ball by chance. You will be perfectly fine, Prim.”
Prim glanced at him, thankful. Leo nodded and offered her his arm.
They entered the opulent hall, all made of white marble, accentuated by the intricate patterns of the English oak floor.
The smell of beeswax and rose filled the air along with the notes of the music, the Deveraux nephew currently playing the violin with unique artistry, his art unparalleled in the whole of London.
And yet, their entrance monopolized the ton’s attention. Especially Prim’s. Leo looked at his wife, in her Robin egg blue that made her golden hair stand out. And the pearl necklace that she didn’t take off, even at their home.
“They do not even attempt to be discreet,” Prim said, smiling at him as they went down the stairs to the grand hall.
“I saw Lady Glenthorne rush from the powder room so she wouldn’t miss this,” Leo chuckled.
“I sincerely hope she had concluded her business before she did.”
Leo shook his head, and he guided his wife through the crowd. As they walked by, the feverish susurration woke behind them.
“Do you think she is with child already?” A whisper behind a fan.
“I wager in a few months a premature birth will occur in the Mildenhall estate.” Behind fingers.
“Look at that, she’s just got that Duchess spine now. Money and a title are the best corsets,” someone murmured.
Leo gave Prim an encouraging squeeze as he guided her for a refreshment. She looked at him, her face a mask of indifference
“You are doing great,” Leo said. “They are not wrong about the spine.”
“But utterly wrong about the spontaneous childbirth,” Prim teased.
“It will be a blow to the ton,” he joked.
They walked to the table, and Leo offered her lemonade, the ladies swooning at his attention, and Prim smiling at him, not utterly a performance. This was going better than he thought.
“Prim!” Abigail came towards them, with Edwin in tow. “Finally! I missed you.”
The two women hugged each other and talked while Edwin came closer to Leo and looked at the ball.
“So, how does Leo treat you?” Abigail asked loud enough for him to hear.
Leo gave the meddling woman a pointed look. Abigail laughed.
“Keep looking at my wife like that,” Edwin threatened, seemingly light-hearted, but Leo knew better.
“He is treating me very well,” Prim said and looked back at him with a smile.
The four of them walked around for a while, nodding to people looking at the formidable quartet. The crowd parted and tables emptied when they approached.
“They are positively bewildered,” Edwin murmured, his voice amused. “They don’t know what to make of us. It’s as if two wolves have walked into the sheepfold wearing perfectly tailored evening wear and brought their own shepherds.”
“Edwin,” Prim said with mirth, “we took their favorite gossip away from them. Give them time.”
“I can’t hear you from my moral high ground,” Leo joked.
“You are pushing it a little, Leo,” Abigail laughed.
Leo felt strange. Here he was, with his friends, his wife on his arm, a concept that always sounded outlandish in regard to him. It was oddly tame, and Leo found that he didn’t totally hate it.
“I can’t believe that,” Prim said suddenly.
Leo frowned and stiffened at his side. Did someone manage to offend her? He followed her look and saw Prim’s sister standing at the side of the ballroom, alone and lost like stray puppies.
“Where are my parents?” Prim hissed. “This is what was happening all this time? This is their first season.”
Leo looked at the crowd and found her parents at the other side of the ballroom, socializing and having a good time.
“You must excuse me, Leo,” Prim touched him in the arm lightly. “I cannot… I have to help them.”
Leo looked down at her, her eyes wider and pleading, worried and agitated. He patted her hand that held onto his.
“Of course you can go, Prim. Your sisters look miserable, really. Go, save them. But I will have a dance tonight.”
Prim smiled at him.
“Of course. Just to ensure some names on their dancing cards, and then I am all yours.”
“I’ll come with,” Abigail said. “Together, we can fill those cards in no time. Duchesses to the rescue.”
The two women left, their arms twined, and Leo followed Prim with her look as she weaved through the crowd. Her sisters had life poured into them once they saw Prim approach with reinforcements. Leo chuckled at the sight of the overexcited twins.
“Look at us, Leo,” Edwin said, reminding him of his presence. “Married. The Unholy Duo married. Hell froze over.”
“You married the vicar’s daughter.”
Edwin laughed so hard that the people around them looked scandalized.
“So, Leo. How is married life treating you?”
Leo’s fingers tightened around the glass, but his face remained impassive. He expected exactly that question and was prepared. After all, he himself had teased Edwin with the same question when he got married.
“Ed, you and I both know better than anyone that this is a marriage born out of necessity.”
“It is still married life, and I am asking how you find married life. I noticed we don’t see you all that often at the gentleman’s club.”
“It would raise some suspicion if a newly married man frequented the club, now wouldn’t it?”
“No one would bat an eye if the infamous Lord Mildenhall played whist all night,” Edwin chuckled.
“But it would reflect poorly on Prim.”
“Ah.”
“I am not sure what this ah is supposed to mean.”
“It’s merely an exclamation that indicates the surprise I feel seeing my friend so invested in this marriage of necessity.”
Leo heard every little ounce of sarcasm that dripped from Edwin’s words and shot his friend a warning look.
“What?” Edwin smiled. “You got married to avoid a catastrophic scandal, you made yourself scarce for a month, and when you resurface, you don’t look half as miserable as I expected you to be.”
The glass of wine Leo was bringing to his lips froze for a few seconds. His eyebrow raised, he turned to his friend. His demeanor was serious.
“My family is plotting against me, and their weapon of choice is Prim. Until this is safe for both of us, I need to be on high alert, not slip, not even once. They are not toying, they are going for the jugular. The sheet, the plot at the Covington ball. All meant to turn me into a ruinous villain, and Prim dragged through the mud as collateral damage.”
Edwin looked at his friend, solemnly too.
“Then what is your plan, Leo?”
He finally drinks the wine, his lips a thin line in barely controlled anger.
“I will find the proof, Ed. When I do, I will expose them. Then Prim and I will be safe.”
“And then what?”
Leo looked away from his friend for a second, at Prim, who smiled at a group of mamas with their sons in tow.
“Then,” Leo said, concentrating on his friend again, “we can be more… relaxed. And I can obliterate you in whist once more.”
“You mean you will go back to being your… old self?”
Leo gave Edwin a warning look.
“I am saying once the threat is eliminated, things will change. For now, this is still war.”
“Is Prim aware of this particular decision?”
Leo frowned and was ready to give Edwin a piece of his mind when a voice cut through his rising anger, only to make it a flaming fury.
“It is so great to see you back in society, Leo,” Aaron materialized beside them.
“I admit I haven’t thought of some of the consequences,” Leo said coldly.
“You are so stressed, Leo. I thought marriage would have softened some sides of you. But then again,” Aaron looked turned cold and calculating, “not everybody makes the right choice. Some might even regret it.”
Aaron smiled, and his attention turned to the ballroom, at the couples twirling. His gesture was casual, but his eyes remained locked on Leo, drinking in the moment. Leo’s gaze followed, drawn by a force darker than curiosity.
Across the sea of swirling color, Prim was dancing. With Nathaniel. The feeling in his gut was primitive, deprived of any logic, and bypassed all security forces he had placed in strategic points in his mind.
“When one makes a hasty decision,” Aaron dripped poison, “they would always question the decisions they didn’t make.”
Leo ignored him and took a step towards the ballroom before he stopped himself.
His eyes were fixed on the spectacle before him.
Nathaniel was holding her with that cold effectiveness he always carried himself with.
Prim was comfortable in his arms, her body allowing him to guide her, her hand on his shoulder, and the other resting in his hand, sure and relaxed.
Nathaniel danced with precision, and Prim, his fiery Prim, followed that precision with ease.
Then it happened. Nathaniel said something that could have been anything from an accountant’s report to a love sonnet.
After all, his impassive expression gave out nothing.
But whatever he said, the result was the same.
Prim laughed. Not that polite, reserved laugh she deployed for the ton.
That real, gurgling laughter she reserved only for him, for Abigail, for her sisters.
The one that stripped away the Duchess mask and only left Prim.
It lit up the room around her, and Nathaniel was the main beneficiary of that light.
Leo never had anything against the Duke of Greyhaven despite his…
challenging demeanor. But right this moment, profound hatred that he had never felt in his whole life.
And yet if it were only hatred, he could have handled it.
This feeling that demanded attention and kept him pinned on the floor, his eyes trained on Pri,m was rooted deeper.
“Leo?” Edwin demanded, so close and yet so far away. “Are you all right?”
No, Leo was not all right. Nathaniel was her suitor. She used to laugh with him, too. She wore his sapphires in public, she was alone with him in that maze. Leo drew a deep, controlled breath that did nothing to fill the hollow in his chest. The air was thin, useless.
In another life, Prim would have never gone to the Covington ball, and she would be now married to Nathaniel, because that darned man was no idiot and would have snatched Prim. She would live with him and his child.
Leo’s jaw tightened when he realized what he was looking at. This was not just a dance, but a ghost of a path not taken. A path of quiet respectability, perhaps of gentle affection, of a life free from the hate of his family and the weight of his vengeance.
With every turn, Leo realized with dread that he had Prim. Yes, he did. She bore his name, lived in the house, and warmed his bed. Her body and her loyalty were his. But her heart… Did her heart belong to the Duke of Greyhaven?
“Damn!” He hissed.
He took a step back and managed to withdraw his eyes from Prim’s laughter, his hands in fists, his whole body locked up.
It was the hardest step of his life. All his being was set in crossing the crowd and tearing them apart, grab Prim and kiss her breathless, brand her, show him and everyone that Prim was his! And it took all he was to hold back.
“Leo,” he felt Edwin’s hand on his shoulder. “Do not make a scene.”
Leo couldn’t stand himself anymore, he was fighting with his skin.
Nothing in him agreed to settle. This petty jealousy taking over him was clouding his mind.
The self-loathing was crippling him, that feeling that he was less than, that he was unworthy of a woman who got tangled in his problems, and he was useless in protecting her.
“I,” he managed to sound civil. “I need some air.”
He left the room and headed out. There in the cold of night, he breathed in and out to tame his heart. Why was this tempest raging in his heart? Leo had craved things before, even people. He saw what others had, and he wanted them for himself. And he usually got them.
This was different. This was more, this was more than envy, more than jealousy, more than responsibility. And he hated it more than anything else.
“Prim,” he said in the dead of the night.