Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“ I t was delivered here not long ago by His Grace’s tailor in London, Your Grace. Is it not simply wonderful?” Margaret stood in the doorway with a bright smile on her face.
Eloise had just returned from a walk in the garden, her heart light and her cheeks flushed from the fresh air. She had returned to her chambers to rest up for the evening ahead when she discovered something unexpected waiting for her.
Spread across the coverlet was a new gown: a beautiful creation in deep emerald satin, its color so rich that it seemed to shimmer with its own light. Eloise’s heart stilled, and she hesitated by the door, her hand hovering by her neck.
“You mean to say…?” she muttered and paused.
She bit her lip and walked slowly to the bed. Her fingers tingled as she reached out to touch it, tracing the intricate embroidery along the bodice and feeling the delicate beadwork that captured the light. It was the most beautiful gown she had ever seen.
She looked at her lady’s maid with hope and warmth, incredulous that her cold and distant husband had done something so kind and generous.
“Yes, Madam.” Margaret cupped one hand around her mouth and whispered, “A gift. From His Grace.”
“Felix…” Eloise whispered his name, more to herself, her mind racing.
The fabric was exquisite, the kind of gown she had imagined for herself in idle daydreams but never thought she’d truly own.
How did he know?
She stared down at it again, her hand again at her throat. She had already been confused by his intentions and now he had done this.
“There is a note as well, Madam.” Margaret held out a small ivory envelope, her eyes gleaming with an eagerness to see what it contained.
Eloise looked at her, then at the note. She accepted it with tentative fingers, her heart beating quickly. She nervously opened the envelope, pulled out the card, and read the neat, confident script, her eyes lingering over each word as if she was memorizing them. Even his handwriting was attractive.
For tonight. I would rather the others see how radiant you are than keep that beauty all to myself. Felix.
She could practically hear the low timbre of his voice as she read it. Eloise’s cheeks flushed as she felt the warmth of his words settle in her heart and an unfamiliar thrill ran through her.
Felix, who had remained so distant and reserved, had given her a gift meant not only to flatter her but to allow her to be admired by others. As if he wanted to put her on display. As if he understood her desire to be on display.
“Oh, but it is beautiful, My Lady,” Margaret chimed with a hand on her heart. “He must be very fond of you to go to such trouble.”
Eloise managed a small smile, her thoughts churning. “Yes, it seems so, does it not?”
Margaret picked the gown up and held it against Eloise. The elegant lines and delicate fabric draped in just the right way. Margaret threw her a knowing look.
“Not the actions of a man married in name alone, I would wager.”
Felix paced the entrance hall, his boots clicking loudly on the marble floor. He pulled his watch out of his waistcoat pocket, clicked it open, and checked the hour for the fourth time in ten minutes.
His mind churned with thoughts of her in that gown. He had been unsure whether to order it at all, wondering whether it would send the wrong message. He knew he’d been cold and that she deserved better, and he wanted to see her smile again.
He turned on his heels and paced back to the door when he suddenly heard her delicate footsteps descending the grand staircase that swept down into the hall. He hesitated, his mouth suddenly becoming dry, and his heart kicking up a notch.
As he turned to greet her, he sucked in his breath, entirely unprepared for the vision before him. He had expected her to look beautiful, of course. She always looked beautiful. Eloise had an innate elegance that even the most lavish gown couldn’t hope to enhance. But this was different.
This is so much more.
“It fits perfectly. Thank you.”
“I…”
Felix’s jaw worked up and down. He was so utterly astonished by his wife that words failed him
Eloise.
The rich green of the gown he had chosen framed her face, contrasting with the warm glow of her skin. Her lustrous brown hair fell in waves that turned auburn as it caught the light. She stopped halfway and gave him a soft smile as his eyes traced over her.
Felix cleared his throat and returned to his usual level of composure.
“It was only right that you had a new gown for our first outing together,” he said, averting his eyes so that he could make sense of his thoughts.
She gazed at him silently with a quiet confidence.
He took a deep breath, trying to suppress the deep pull of desire that surged within him. Now was not the time.
There will never be a time.
He cleared his throat again as though trying to dislodge his emotions then clicked open his pocket watch.
“We ought to leave,” he said in as cold a tone as he could manage. “Or we shall be late.”
“Of course, Your Grace.”
Eloise stood beside him and slipped her arm into his. Her touch was dangerously electrifying, and his eyes drifted down to her gloved hand, resting gently on his arm as if he were hers and she were his.
But he could not afford to think like that. Not about her.
“His Grace, the Duke of Kingswell, and Her Grace, the Duchess of Kingswell,” the master of ceremonies declared as they stepped into the ballroom.
It was a whirlwind of color and chatter, and all eyes turned toward them. Felix was certain they had been the topic of the latest gossip mongers, as they had married quickly with little courtship. No doubt some thought her with child. Others, perhaps, suspected something more sinister. A few might even have correctly guessed that he had assisted with the family’s financial dilemma.
But that night, as they stepped into the room together, the music rising above the hum of conversation, Felix was determined that by the time they left, everyone would be certain it was a whirlwind romance, a love match, and nothing more.
“Goodness,” Eloise muttered. “So many people here already.”
“And every one of them wishing to either be you or be with you,” he replied from the corner of his mouth. “Did I tell you how beautiful you look tonight?”
“Only with your eyes,” she said, turning to look at him with a mischievous grin. He had missed that. “And that hungry look of yours.”
Felix smirked then stood tall and faced the room. He felt a wave of pride and protectiveness, tinged only by a possessive edge that he could barely explain.
She was his wife. His duchess. And tonight, he was glad the world could see it.
They stepped down from the raised area at the entrance and were immediately swallowed up by the crowd. Felix held tightly onto Eloise’s arm.
“Oh, there’s Hannah,” Eloise said, her bright smile evident in her voice. “Do you mind if I go over and speak with her for a while? It feels like an absolute age since I last saw her.” He knew he had to let go eventually, but he hadn’t expected it to be that soon.
He turned and looked at his wife. “Of course not. You are free to do as you wish, remember?”
She smiled at him though he could see her reluctance in her eyes. “Your Grace.”
He felt her arm slip from his, and he watched as she disappeared into the throng of people until he could no longer spot her. He swallowed, confused by the sense of loss he felt.
“Well, nephew,” Lady Brimsleigh said, sidling up next to him with a glass of wine in hand, “you are indeed the luckiest man here this evening. You have the most intelligent and most beautiful woman in the room by your side.”
“I know,” Felix whispered, still watching where Eloise once stood. “I know.”
Lady Brimsleigh stepped in front of him and raised her glass, looking at him from under her brow. “I am serious, my boy. I do not know and have no desire to hear what has gone on, but promise me that you will not botch this up.”
Felix snorted in amusement, his emotions settling down as his composure returned.
“You know me, dear aunt,” he said simply. “I never botch up anything.”
“There you are! I was wondering if you would come,” Percy cried as he half walked, half stumbled over to them.
“I would not have missed it for the world,” Felix replied.
“He means I wouldn’t let him miss it, of course,” Lady Brimsleigh said playfully. “I shall leave you boys to talk. Once again, Your Grace, it is such a pleasure to see you and your wonderful wife.”
She sauntered away to greet more of her guests as Percy led Felix to the place he liked best: the drinks table.
“Brandy?”
“Stupid question,” Felix said, leaning against the table while the footman poured them a drink.
“All right, how is this for a better question. Any word from Jeremy? He has been away far too long, has he not?”
Felix stiffened, the mention of Jeremy stirring an old discomfort within him. The reminder of his friendship with his wife’s brother mixed uncomfortably with the desires he was trying hard to keep at bay.
“Not as of yet,” he said, his eyes scanning the room to catch sight of Eloise. Percy handed him a glass, and he swirled the amber liquid around to bring out its aroma. “Eloise is certain that he will write soon, but I am not as convinced. You know the man detests formalities.”
“You know what he also detests?” Percy said, his tone teasing yet serious. “Letches who desire his sister. Do you dabble in lechery , Felix, or is it gentler than that? I do find myself wondering how he is going to react when he finally does return, you know.”
Felix huffed loudly. “All right. Point taken, but let us not forget the reason I married Eloise in the first place. Surely he cannot be angry at me for saving his family from ruin.”
Percy narrowed his eyes. “You have met Jeremy, have you not?”
Felix snorted and turned to look at him, resting his elbow on the high table. “Can we please talk about anything but this?”
“Such as?” Percy asked, feigning innocence.
“Which woman did you bed last night? Tell me something debauched and remind me of who I really am.”
“Eloise!” Hannah gasped as she approached. “You look beautiful. I cannot believe that you have been hiding that gown from me! Is it new?”
Eloise smiled, her heart fluttering at the compliment, and she turned in a slow circle, proudly showing it off.
“It was a gift from the Duke, actually.”
“A gift?” Hannah asked with raised eyebrows. “Your husband has excellent taste.”
Eloise couldn’t help her smile from turning smug. “He does, rather, does he not?”
“Mind you,” Hannah said, slipping her arm into Eloise’s as the pair began to take a turn around the ballroom, “that is no great surprise. He chose you, after all.”
Hannah giggled, and Eloise winced. She knew she should tell Hannah the real reason why they had married and the fact that the entire thing was a sham. But for one night, she wanted to bask in the simple glory of being his wife.
She glanced across the room to where Felix stood talking to Percy. The sight of him—tall, dark, with that refined yet dangerous edge—sent a thrill through her that she tried hard to ignore.
Hannah followed her gaze then laughed again. “Look at you two! You cannot keep your eyes off one another. Honestly, it is such a romance story, and I somehow missed the entire thing.”
Eloise smiled and looked down at the floor. “It was rather sudden,” she said softly. “Unexpected to both of us, one might say.”
“Do you know that he keeps looking over here? His eyes are glued to you.”
Eloise’s heart skipped a beat though she managed a casual shrug. “We are married. I suppose it is only natural.”
Hannah threw her head back and laughed. “Listen to you! My best friend in all the world, talking like an old married woman!”
As they chatted, Eloise’s gaze drifted back to Felix. She caught him looking at her, his gaze dark and intense even across the crowded room. The unspoken electricity between them held her in place, sending a shiver down her spine.
Eloise’s lips curved into a soft smile before she forced herself to look away, her thoughts racing as the music resumed and guests began to drift onto the dance floor.
Despite being in separate corners of the room, she felt undeniably close to him.
The thought filled her with an excitement she was powerless to ignore.