Chapter Eighteen
Adelaide was relieved when Lord Edwin led her off the dance floor. She smiled politely, preparing to curtsey and thank him for the dance. But he held her arm longer than he should have, meeting her gaze with the same strange, disquieting look he had had on the dance floor.
“Would you like to accompany me to the refreshment tables?” he asked.
His words were merely a pleasant invitation.
His tone, however, told her that they were less of a request and more of an expectation.
She glanced around, looking for a way to escape the gentleman.
She still did not know why he made her so uncomfortable, and she was not wholly convinced that she was not overreacting to the events of the past week.
However, she could not accept his invitation.
Not while he was looking at her as though he had something peculiar on his mind.
“I just remembered something important I must discuss with my aunt,” she said, trying desperately to seem simultaneously oblivious to the strangeness of the gentleman’s demeanor and urgently concerned about the nonexistent matter she needed to take to Helena.
Lord Edwin studied her for a long moment, the doubt apparent in the sneer he was barely masking. But eventually he smiled, bowing politely to her.
“Of course,” he said, his voice once more affecting the charm she had heard upon first meeting him. “Well, I do hope to share another dance with you this evening.”
Adelaide nodded with the warmest smile she could muster.
“That would be lovely,” she lied.
As the gentleman walked away, she sought out Helena.
She thought it prudent to make it appear as though she was doing as she had claimed, lest Lord Edwin be watching her.
She found her aunt beside a pillar speaking with Lady Beatrice, and her heart leapt into her throat.
She could hardly tell her aunt why she had rushed over to her with the gentleman’s own mother standing there.
She composed herself quickly, smiling at her aunt.
“Is this not the loveliest ball, Aunt Helena?” she asked.
Helena nodded, patting her back gently with a warm smile.
“It certainly is,” she said. “I am thrilled to see you enjoying yourself.”
Adelaide nodded, swallowing. She was afraid that her aunt would mention her dance with Lord Edwin while Lady Beatrice was still present. But a tap on Adelaide’s shoulder disrupted the conversation, causing Adelaide to whirl around so quickly that her arm brushed against a familiar, imposing figure.
“Miss Barrett,” the Duke said in a voice stronger and fuller than she had ever heard. “Would you honour me by sharing the next dance with me?”
Adelaide stared at him, briefly paralyzed.
She had always thought the duke handsome.
But the color had returned to his cheeks, which seemed fuller and healthier than they had a week prior.
His dark brown eyes were clear and focused and, while they still appeared distracted and thoughtful, looked nothing like the lifeless buttons she had observed when she first met him.
A slow smile spread across his face, making Adelaide’s pulse quicken. Her aunt suddenly giggled softly behind her, and only then did she realize that she had placed her hand into the duke’s extended one.
“Nothing would please me more,” she said.
As the duke led her onto the floor as he had at Sydney Gardens, he once again leaned in, this time with a sly smile.
“Perhaps tonight, I can redeem myself after that horrible dance,” he said.
Adelaide blushed, noting that the intensity in his gaze burned wilder than before.
I suppose he is feeling better in every way, she thought with a thrill as she stared up into his dark brown eyes that not only looked as though they wanted to devour her but as though they were planning on it.
Her suspicion was confirmed when the orchestra began preparing by playing the first strain of a waltz.
As they took their positions, the guests began whispering with a wild frenzy.
The duke asking her to dance a waltz was a public acknowledgment of their bond, and it seemed everyone present noticed.
Adelaide spared them no thought as the Duke’s hand closed around hers.
She could pay heed to nothing besides his touch, which burned through her clothing everywhere he touched her.
His previous unsteadiness was replaced by fluid confidence, and she realized that she was seeing him as he truly was.
She also saw just how handsome he truly was, and she thought she might faint.
Their bodies moved in perfect harmony from the very first notes of the waltz. They kept the proper distance between them, but an unspoken connection lingered between them. His dark eyes held hers with a passion that made her pulse quicken wildly beneath her proper exterior.
“It seems as though you are the one faltering, Miss Barrett,” the duke said in her ear, his voice low and enticing.
Adelaide suppressed a gasp that would expose her excitement as she corrected her sluggish movements.
“Forgive me,” she said with a slow, deliberate smile. “I suppose I better learn to keep up.”
The Duke looked at her with a desire that rendered her speechless.
“I suppose you better,” he agreed huskily.
As they danced, Adelaide became acutely conscious of every place where their bodies touched.
His hand at her waist felt as though it could burn away the fabric of her dress.
The brush of his thigh against her skirts made her legs tremble with longing.
And the way his fingers tightened ever so slightly on hers when she met his intense gaze with one of her own made her feel warmer that she had at the bathhouse.
The world around them faded into insignificance, leaving just the two of them, moving together in the light of the chandeliers.
His improved condition showed in the strength of his leading as they danced, and she yielded to his embrace, marveling at his grace and talent now that he was steady on his feet.
Yet beyond the newfound strength and elegance, she saw a troubled look in his eyes.
His arms trembled as if he had moments where he feared she might slip from them.
“Are you all, right?” she asked, worried that he was feeling unwell again.
The duke shook his head as if coming out of a trance, giving her a small smile.
“Yes,” he said, his eyes focusing on her once more, the intensity of his gaze increasing to an impossible fervor. “I am truly splendid.”
Adelaide blushed, unable to look away from his lively, hungry eyes.
“I am glad,” she said with great sincerity. “I must say that your dancing is markedly improved.”
The Duke gave her a smile that until that day, she had never seen on his face. It was as bright as his eyes, relaxed and full of promise that Adelaide longed to hear.
“Perhaps, you can tell me more about my improved talents later this evening,” he said.
Adelaide did not ask the duke what he meant, nor was it necessary.
His eyes spoke the words his lips did not, and the tingling fire beneath her lower body caused her to sigh softly as they danced.
The duke seemed to notice, for as he pressed himself closer to her, she felt the evidence of his intentions.
She had never longed for the end of a ball so desperately.
***
When the ball ended, Adelaide retired to her chambers, doubting herself and the desires she felt for the Duke.
She knew that having such thoughts was rude and unladylike, and she would be shamed for simply voicing them.
To act on them was a completely different matter, one which would permanently secure her already marred reputation as a ruined woman.
Besides, she was still uncertain whether she should trust him, especially as he was now the one warning her to stay away from him.
And yet as she walked frantically back and forth in her room, she recalled every heated glance, every subtle touch from their dance and every shiver, tingle and wave of longing he stirred within her.
Perhaps he was a beast. Perhaps everyone was right to warn her about him. However, perhaps she did not mind.
When she had paced the floor of her chambers for two hours and still felt no closer to sleep, she grew frustrated with both her sleeplessness and her yearning.
She wrapped herself in her favorite green shawl and slipped quietly into the library.
She tried to convince herself that she was not going there in the hopes of seeing the duke.
She even refused to glance around the room, which was lit only by a low-burning fire that cast intimate shadows through the room.
She knew he could be waiting in one of those shadows, but she pushed away the thought.
Even if he was, she would not entertain the thoughts she had earlier that evening, no matter how decadent and tempting they were.
The gentle moonlight streamed in through the tall windows, conveniently illuminating the poetry section of the library, where she so often found the most solace.
She had always enjoyed poetry volumes, but she could not deny that she found a new source of joy when she discussed poetry with the Duke.
She traced each book with gentle fingertips until she found the Lord Byron volume.
She was set to pull it from the shelf when a familiar, deep voice caused her to start.
“Another sleepless night, Miss Barrett?” The Duke asked, the smooth timbre of his voice making her knees instantly weak.
Adelaide turned to see him standing by the fire, wondering how she had missed him when she entered.
His evening jacket lay discarded on a chair and his cravat was loosened, which was something Adelaide had come to expect.
However, his shirt was partially unbuttoned, and for the first time, she saw a clear view of the top of his chest. Her longing for him pounded relentlessly in her abdomen, leaving her briefly speechless.
As if sensing her stupor, the duke chuckled softly, sending a wave of shivers up her spine.
“I could not sleep, either,” he said. “It seems my thoughts are far less eager to rest than I am.”
Adelaide nodded, swallowing. She could hardly concentrate as she stared at the powerful lines of his frame in the flickering light of the fireplace.
His body was now free of the tremors that had plagued him previously, and she could admire every bit of his tall, muscular figure.
She might as well have been standing in the fireplace, her yearning so hot she began to sweat.
When she was able to move, she stepped toward the dim light of the fire.
The duke’s eyes widened and his breath caught, and Adelaide realized he could see through the filmy fabric of her nightclothes.
She should have been embarrassed and wrapped herself more tightly to protect her modesty.
Instead, however, she put her arms at her side, leaving the duke’s view of her unobstructed.
His eyes darkened and his jaw tightened. Adelaide waited for him to send her away and her heart fluttered madly. He did not banish her from the library, however. Instead, he gave her a slow, hungry smile and shifted so that she had a better view of his firm figure in the dim lighting.
“Which volume enticed you this evening?” he asked, glancing at her hands with a teasing smirk.
Adelaide was sure she would swoon. Her attraction to the duke had always been intense and powerful.
Now that he stood strong and confident and unaffected by illness, it was overwhelming.
She struggled to form a single coherent thought with him in such a state of undress.
She wondered if he felt the same way, and she tried desperately to keep her voice calm and casual.
“I considered Byron,” she said, not surprised when her voice sounded as heavy with longing as she felt.