Chapter 19
Philip hated that his manor was overrun with strangers and well-wishers.
Apparently, he was supposed to be glad of it, but all he could think about was after the wedding, when his home and his bride’s attention would return to him, and no one would be around to interrupt.
Aside from their moment in the gallery this afternoon, he had barely seen Selina, her time monopolized by his sister and his grandmother and final arrangements for this hastily thrown-together ball. Still, at least it raised the anticipation for when they might steal a moment alone together again.
“An excellent occasion, Your Grace!” someone said as he weaved through the crowd of merrymakers.
He had been trying to make it to the refreshment room to fetch himself a glass of something strong for half an hour. Every step forward he made resulted in some interruption or another, putting him behind again.
“Quite the tremendous ball,” someone else joined in. “You must be overjoyed.”
“We were surprised to hear that you were going to take a wife,” a white-haired woman interjected. “I had hoped that you might meet my daughter. She is a charming young lady, and—”
“If you will excuse me,” Philip interrupted. “I see my grandmother waving for me.”
He had used the same excuse at least six times by now. Eventually, someone would realize that his grandmother was having a marvelous time with some acquaintances of hers at the far side of the ballroom.
Pressing on through the throng, he was somewhat gladdened to hear that everyone was in fine spirits, happy to celebrate the upcoming nuptials. Given how it had all begun, he had not been sure how the news would be received.
“Ah, there you are!” A hand clapped him on the back.
Philip’s eye twitched in annoyance. He twisted around to find John Sinclair, the Duke of Barlow, standing there with a broad grin on his face.
“Yes, here I am,” he replied dryly. “Was there a matter you wished to discuss?”
John beckoned for him to follow. “Just a moment of your time.”
“Very well,” Philip grumbled, and went after his future father-in-law.
They came to a low dais, just beside the orchestra. Selina’s brother was there already, a spare glass of champagne in his hand. He passed it to Philip, who had to hold himself back from downing the entire thing.
“What is the meaning of this?” Philip asked.
Rather than answer, John got up on the stage and signaled to the orchestra. Although they were in the middle of a cheerful tune, they stopped abruptly.
The crowd in the ballroom turned toward the strange, sudden absence of music. Seeing John standing there with his glass raised, relief and excitement washed over the guests, eager chatter replacing the lively tune.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” John began as Philip reluctantly got up on the stage beside him. “It is my honor to welcome you to Ashbrook Manor to celebrate this auspicious occasion. Indeed, I am grateful to the Duke of Ashbrook for ensuring that the union receives the festivity it deserves!”
A cheer went up from the crowd.
“I know it might come as a surprise to many of you that my daughter is marrying the Duke of Ashbrook,” John continued with a wry smile, “but it should not be a surprise at all. What better way is there to end a feud than to join families? I, for one, welcome this new era of felicity and peace.”
Philip smiled tightly and raised his glass in agreement. After all, the feud had never been his. He did not even know what had caused it. Still, whatever it was, it seemed that John was well and truly over it.
“To my daughter and the Duke!” John said proudly.
“To your daughter and the Duke!” the crowd chorused back, sipping their drinks to end the toast.
Philip suspected that Selina probably should have been part of the speech, but she was nowhere to be found. He had looked. The only thing that assured him that she was not hiding in her rooms was the fact that Lizzy and Melody were also absent, as was her mother.
It takes a lady time to prepare for her engagement ball.
To him, she could have come down in her nightdress, and he would have been delighted. He might have preferred it. But this was her night; she could take as long to get ready as she liked.
As the applause and cheers faded back into conversation and the orchestra began playing again, Philip moved to the edge of the dais.
“I mean it, you know.” John halted him. “This is the best end I could have hoped for.”
Philip bowed his head. “I am pleased you think so.”
His father would not have agreed. Indeed, his father was probably rolling in his grave, furious that he could not put a stop to it. And that made it all the sweeter.
“I should go and find her,” he said.
John nodded. “Yes, please do. It will be good for people to see you together.”
Philip got down and, bracing for the onslaught, began his hundredth attempt to make it through the crowd without being intercepted.
He wandered into the entrance hall, considering slipping out of the manor so he might enjoy a breath of fresh air. There were fewer guests here, aside from some late arrivals.
Leaning against the newel post to observe, a prickle ran down the back of his neck. The feeling of being watched.
Slowly, he turned… and there she was. His betrothed. Standing at the top of the stairs with her friends and her mother around her like they were already in the church.
And I am the lucky devil who gets to marry her.
He stared, mesmerized, as she descended with the practiced grace of a debutante.
She looked breathtaking in a gown of emerald green that shimmered like liquid with her every movement, her chocolate hair curled and pinned and studded with purple flowers, her cheeks rosy and her eyes bright, her face glowing with vitality.
Even the new arrivals stopped to gasp at her beauty.
How she had not been the Diamond of the Season, Philip didn’t know. Perhaps society was as blind and foolish as he suspected they were.
“Now, I see what took you so long,” he told her as she came to him, his hand extended to take hers.
She blushed, her eyes glittering with happiness. “It was my hair. It would not behave.”
“You should have worn it down,” he whispered. “Like it was the other night.”
“And shock everyone?” She laughed. “I don’t think so.”
“I’ll just have to imagine it then.” He weaved her arm through his and led her away from the stairs, toward the music in the ballroom.
It had been a long time since he had danced, but the lessons that had been drilled into him in his youth were not easily forgotten. And he had had one or two opportunities to learn the newer dances while he had been abroad, and a few that had not yet reached the shores of stuffy England.
He led her directly to the dance floor, not caring for etiquette. The other dancers stared at the couple in surprise and quickly made themselves scarce while the current song faded to a close.
“What are you doing?” she whispered. “We should wait until the next set begins.”
He shook his head. “This is our night. We do not have to wait.” He raised a hand to the orchestra. “A waltz.”
“A waltz?” Selina croaked, her eyes bulging.
“You have never danced one before?”
She bit her lip. “I have… practiced, but only with my friends.”
“Then I am honored to be your first.” His lips quirked into a smirk as the music began to play, and it became too late for Selina to back out.
His arm encircled her, his hand probably lower on her back than it should have been. Taking her hand in his, as her other hand rested on his upper arm, they began.
The dance floor was all their own as they turned in slow, graceful circles, in perfect rhythm with one another. He would not have suspected that this was her first time at all. Her neck was elegant, her turns precise, though her grip on his arm betrayed her nerves.
“Everyone is watching you,” Philip said quietly, close to her ear. “Every gentleman wishes he were me. Every lady wishes she could be half as beautiful as you.”
A pretty blush colored her cheeks. “Are you saying that to make me more nervous?”
“I am just speaking the truth,” he replied. “You are radiant, my bride.”
“It is the heat.” She chuckled.
“It is you,” he insisted.
Her eyes shone as she met his gaze, her obvious joy making her twice as beautiful.
In truth, he wondered if he ought to thank the meddlers who had sent that letter to her, for if they had not, he would probably never have met her, much less be about to marry her.
“Who is the better partner?” he asked with a smile. “Melody, Lizzy, or me?”
She laughed again, such a glorious sound. “Melody is surprisingly adept, especially when she leads. Lizzy has no patience for it. So, I suppose it is a competition between you and Melody.”
“That will not do.”
Remembering something from foreign country dances, he pulled her closer to him and began to spin her at double the speed. Her eyes fluttered in brief alarm, but she adjusted quickly, her face aglow with giddiness as she turned and turned in his arms.
Gasps and whispers of appreciation rippled through the spectators, for society could show a little leniency to a couple who were already engaged.
Faster and faster they whirled, until Philip grasped her by that temptingly narrow waist and lifted her into the air, still turning all the while. He heard her soft yelp and smiled as her hands braced against his broad shoulders.
“Oh, heavens,” someone huffed from nearby.
There would be plenty for the gossipmongers to discuss, but Philip didn’t care a jot. What was the harm in showing some liveliness with his future wife?
He lowered her back down and slowed the dance once more, delighting in her dizzy breathlessness as they turned their last circles together.
How I wish we were alone.
All too soon, the waltz came to an end.
Reluctantly, Philip released his hold on her and took a polite step back, bowing low to her. Selina, in turn, dipped into a curtsy, so graceful and elegant that she would have rivaled any royal.
Most of the crowd erupted into rapturous applause. A few sour faces were dotted among them, mainly the elderly who were still getting used to the intimacy of country dances and couldn’t adjust to waltzes. The atmosphere as a whole, however, was brimming with congratulation and celebration.
A true end to a silly feud that only a dead man would have been bothered to prolong.
“Thank you,” Selina murmured, taking his arm.
“For what?”
“For making me feel like I belong at a ball for the first time in my life,” she replied.
He smiled and kissed her hand. “Just do not expect to host many balls here. This is the last time I want this many people in my house.” He paused. “Our house.”
She laughed that lovely laugh of hers. “That is a relief, for I have no talent for arranging anything.”
Perhaps they were better suited than he could have imagined. A perfect bride who had come directly to his doorstep, as if fate itself had been ready to end that foolhardy feud.