Chapter 15
When Adrian saw his wife appear at the top of the staircase, dressed and ready to attend their first ball, he felt… something. It was subtle, like a flame near death flickering back to life, a gentle but undeniable warmth touching him in ways he had never felt before.
She is… that gown… all of her. My wife is beautiful.
He did his best not to stare as she started down the staircase, but it was harder to do than it should have been.
The gown was yellow with golden stitching, silver patterns that swirled up the dress and toward the waist. It was elegant by design, not too tight around her body, but still enough to show her curves and the sway of her hips as she moved.
Her hair was worn in tight ringlets, held back by a silver tiara. Her face was painted subtle white, while her cheeks were colored pink. Her jewelry sparkled, but that was nothing compared to her eyes. They found him watching; they must have seen how he gaped, and they lit up with unabated delight.
“What do you think?” she asked with a touch of nerves as she reached the lower landing. “Do you like it?”
“I do,” he said simply, thinking that would be enough. Only a flash of disappointment passed behind her eyes. Adrian felt a stabbing pain in his chest, and he knew that he could not leave it there. “You look beautiful, Ophelia. Truly.”
She blushed and looked away. “As do you.”
“Beautiful?” he asked her
“What?” Her eyes widened. “No, that is not what I –” She caught her tongue and grimaced. “I meant to say that you look very handsome.”
“I know what you meant.” Surprisingly, Adrian chuckled, not something he intended, but it happened. “Now, shall we?” He offered her his arm. “Our first night out.”
“Thank you again,” she said as she took his arm. “For doing this.”
“I had no choice,” he said as a first thought.
Again, he sensed the harshness of his words, and again, he felt their effect.
Rarely did Adrian give any heed to what he said or how it might be received, as he did not care about other people’s opinions.
Only, in this case, he did. “Regardless, there is no need to thank me. I…” He cleared his throat. “I wanted to do this.”
“Did you, now?” She eyed him curiously.
“You are a duchess, Ophelia. My wife.” He nodded once to confirm it. “I want you to feel comfortable in your role, even happy…” He cleared his throat again, the sentiment sitting strangely on his tongue. “I feel as if this is the least that I can do.”
She did not respond, but she continued to eye him as they crossed the foyer. It was a look which suggested that she saw through his words, just as she saw through him.
And while Adrian felt the sudden need to dismiss such assumptions, always determined to appear cold and disinterested, once again he found that he could not summon the energy to do as he knew he should.
The truth was, he wanted Ophelia to be happy. He doubted that he had it in him to make her so, just as he hoped that tonight might go some way towards seeing it done. She was his wife; she deserved so much better than him, and a ball, as this really was the least that he could do.
Also, just maybe, Adrian would come to learn that it wasn’t such a bad thing to want to please one’s own wife. Caring for someone other than himself, admitting that he did… am I capable of such a thing? For whatever reason, Ophelia seems to think I am.
That thought alone was enough, and it did much to quench his nerves, to soften his doubt, and steel his resolve for their first ball as man and wife.
Adrian knew that his first appearance into society after so many years would result in a cavalcade of whispers and not-so-silent judgment. And while he expected it, even prepared for it, even he had not considered just how bad it would be.
They arrived at Ironvale Estate and entered the ballroom together.
It was already busy with the throng of guests, loud too, as that many people in one space together was sure to create an avalanche of noise.
Scores of guests were spread across the large space, an explosion of color from all the gowns, so that it was blinding.
However, no sooner did Adrian and Ophelia enter did the noise soften and dozens of heads turned as mouths began to mutter in muted whispers.
Adrian’s arm was linked through Ophelia’s, and he raised his chin as the two walked ahead. Those before them quickly parted, making way, but how obviously they watched and gaped was noticeable.
“Perhaps this was not such a good idea,” Ophelia said, and he felt her tense.
“They were always going to stare,” Adrian said to her. “Most here have not seen me in years. Truly, I am surprised they even recognize me.” He cared little about the opinions of his peers, and he was not going to let them think that he did.
“They are not looking at you…” Ophelia shied away, keeping her head bowed.
“What do you mean…” Adrian looked at her, saw the dread on her face, and that was when he realized what was wrong.
The fool that I am…
Once again, Adrian had failed to consider anyone but himself. He was so certain that he would be the center of gossip at the ball, and that his past was all that people cared about. Because he thought that, he had not once considered what his wife was going through.
She had her own scandal that she had run from. She had her own history. And she had every reason to think that she was the one being judged.
“This was a mistake,” she said, her chest coloring as her nerves built. “I… I am so sorry, Adrian. I should have realized this would happen.”
“It is not a mistake.”
“It is,” she pleaded with him. “It has only been three years since I was disgraced. No doubt, everyone here remembers it too.” She winced. “I know how much you hate being the center of attention. I… I am so sorry.”
Adrian stopped suddenly, forcing Ophelia to do the same. Then he turned and looked down at her, waiting until she dared to look up. He did not scowl, and he did not glower. His expression was soft, comforting, and he hoped gentle.
“I told you already that I do not care about your past. Just as I do not care what other people think of it.”
“But –”
“But nothing,” he cut over her. “You are my wife, Ophelia. A duchess. And far better than everyone else here.” He scoffed. “It is they who should be judged by you, and not the other way around.”
She searched his eyes as if with hope, desperation to believe what he said. “You have spent so long trying to avoid moments like this one. And in one fell swoop…” She laughed bitterly. “Tell me truly, you are starting to wonder if this marriage was worth the cost.”
“I am not wondering,” he said, meaning it. “Nor do I regret it. I chose to marry you, remember that. And not a day since have I considered that decision a mistake.”
“Really…”
“I do not care what other people think.” He looked at her, his expression as honest as he could make it.
“What I care about is that you enjoy yourself. If you want to leave, we can. But to do so…” He exhaled sharply and flicked his head toward the crowd.
“That will only throw meat to the wolves. It is better to show them that you do not care. In my experience, that is the best way to blunt their fangs.”
“You make it sound much easier than it is.”
“It is easy…” Somehow, he managed a soft smile. It was not done on purpose, but it came naturally. “Let me show you how.”
It was on the night of his wedding, as he drank with Rupert, that Adrian made himself a promise. While he could not imagine a situation where he would fall in love with his wife, or she with him, he would do everything that he could to make their marriage work.
For a short time, he had forgotten that, determined as he was to hide himself away because that was what he knew. But as he looked down at his wife, as he saw how much she needed him, he realized that now was the time to act and do as only he could.
She needs me more than ever. She needs to know that she is not alone…
Ophelia considered him. She bit into her lip. She forced back the doubt and the fear. And slowly, the light returned to her eyes, and Adrian knew then that she trusted him as she never had before.
“Is it really so easy?” she asked with caution.
He smirked. “Let us find out, shall we?”
With that said, Adrian linked his arm back through Ophelia’s. They stood together proudly as those near them watched on. And then, as man and wife, caring not for the opinions of others, they started through the ball again.
That time, they did so in a way that showed the world that they cared not about rumors or judgment, because all that mattered was that they were in this together. They were who mattered most.
Indeed, no sooner had they started walking again than Adrian noticed his wife relaxing by his side. Even better, he saw her smile. It was a most beautiful thing, the type that made the light from the chandeliers appear redundant and pitiful by comparison.
For the first twenty minutes or so, they simply walked together. They found a waiter serving wine, they took a glass each, and they made it known to any who watched them that they were really not worth watching. They were a typical married couple, and that was all.
The first person to approach them that night was one who Adrian did not know. She had dark hair, her dress was blue but so deep that it appeared black, and she brightened and laughed as she swept into them.
“I was looking for you!” the young lady said as she hugged Ophelia. “Oh, that gown!”
“Yours too,” Ophelia said, giggling as she did. “You have quite the eye…” She indicated her own gown. “Clearly.”
The young lady’s name was Lady Nightingale, but Ophelia referred to her as Adelaide.
She did not stay long, just enough to greet Ophelia and talk quickly.
She was also introduced to Adrian, and that was when Adrian braced for the judgment, possibly the disparaging glare as if she already had an opinion formed of him.
Strangely, there was no such thing.
“It is so good to meet you, Your Grace,” Lady Nightingale said with a sincere smile. “Ophelia told me of you, nothing but good things, I promise.”
Adrian did not know what to say. Not used to being spoken to so candidly, and without a hint of trepidation or caution, it caught him by surprise. He looked at Ophelia, who smiled warmly.
Lady Nightingale spoke to Ophelia for a few more moments, and Adrian was happy to remain silent. It pleased him to see his wife so cheerful, proof that such a thing was capable in their marriage. And it made him consider that he might be able to do the same by her…
Once Lady Nightingale left them, a second person approached, one that was not quite so optimistically happy as the previous. It was Rupert.
He did so with a mocking smile and a knowing smirk reflected in his eyes. He appeared from the crowd, flashed his eyes as he started towards them both, and Adrian braced himself.
“I was wondering what had caused that commotion earlier,” he said as he reached them. “I thought perhaps one of Ironvale’s hounds had gotten loose.”
“Rupert,” Adrian began dryly. “As always, I find myself wondering if it is a good thing seeing you here or not.”
Rupert chuckled as he fixed his attention on Ophelia. “Your Grace, it is wonderful to see you again.” He bowed deeply. “I have so many questions for you, but they must wait until you are free from your husband’s side.”
“Oh?” Ophelia asked. “What sort of questions?”
“Ignore him,” Adrian sighed. “His sense of humor is not so much funny as it is frustrating.”
“I take it all is well…” He looked between them, noting the way their arms were linked. “I could not be happier for it. Truly, Vermont. No one deserves it more than you.”
“Thank you.” Adrian narrowed his eyes.
“A good thing, too,” Rupert continued. “Your Grace, I must say that you look ravishing tonight. I could not be more thrilled that Vermont has finally come to his senses. A beauty such as yours should not be wasted or ignored.”
Ophelia flushed at the compliment, apparently quite taken by it.
Adrian knew his friend was just teasing, as he was trying to get a reaction from him.
However, seeing his wife react the way that she did, how she enjoyed his kind words, made him feel…
again, it was a sensation that he did not fully understand, but knew its meaning well enough.
As ridiculous and unheard of as it was to consider, Adrian felt jealous. He did not like seeing Ophelia so taken with another man’s kind words, and he hated that those words had not come from him.
It was so unlike him. Then again, much of tonight was unlike him.
“Rupert, as much as I do love your company…” Adrian’s mind searched for an excuse to walk away, and as it did, his eyes landed on the dance floor.
Adrian was not one who danced; he was not the sort who enjoyed it, but he sensed that his wife might be of a different mind.
What was more, he realized that if she enjoyed it, then maybe he would too.
“But I was just about to ask my wife if she would like to dance, and sadly, such a thing is for two people only.”
Rupert frowned and leaned back. “Dancing? You?”
“A dance?” Ophelia looked at him hopefully. “Adrian, you do not have to…”
“I want to,” he said to her, pulling her in closer. “Assuming that you would like such a thing?”
“I would,” she said, her smile assured. “Very much.”
So it was that the Duke of Vermont danced with his wife for the first time. Done in front of his peers. Done in front of everyone. Done not because he was trying to prove something, but because he wanted to make his wife happy.
He held her close as he danced. He led firmly, with confidence, and Ophelia gave herself to him with a level of trust that he did not expect. As they danced, the ballroom around them seemed to vanish, the music meant little, and all Adrian could think about was his wife.
It was so unlike him. It was not what he expected of himself, and certainly not of this marriage. But it was happening, and rather than fighting it, as he often would do, Adrian decided then and there that he would embrace this new side of him.
At the very least, he would not run from it. A small step, he knew, but it was a step in the right direction. And that mattered, even more than he realized or was able to acknowledge.