Chapter 10
Ten
“You look… beautiful.” He sounded surprised, as much by her beauty as by the fact that the compliment had managed to escape his lips. His eyes widened, and then he quickly looked away.
“Careful.” Clara beamed as she started down the steps and into the foyer, where Alaric stood waiting for her. “You do not want to waste all your compliments when there is nobody around to hear them.”
To this, the duke allowed himself the glimmer of a smile as he looked upon her again.
This time, the hesitancy he had shown previously was gone.
The nerves, too, faded. For possibly the first time ever, the duke watched her with a sense that she was the only person in the room, and that he was glad for this fact.
His wife felt like a sensation she could get used to.
“I will take the risk,” he said to her as she reached him. There, he offered her his arm. “Shall we?”
“Just try and stop me.” She linked her arm through his own, beaming to see that he did not retract it or flinch at his touch. If anything, she seemed to melt into him, comfort found in a way it never had been before.
Could this be it? Is the beginning of this marriage for real? And do I want such a thing…
The duke was dressed in his usual all-black suit.
But with his hair properly combed and the glimmer in his grey eyes, he looked as handsome as ever.
In fact, it looked as if he wanted to look his best for her.
Gone was the gloom and morose cloud that so often clung to him.
Clara knew this whole night was for appearances’ sake, but that did not stop her from seeing what she thought to be his true feelings.
Clara was dressed in a light blue gown, another of her mother’s pieces.
It was tailored to her body, however, clinging tightly to her waist while billowing around her legs.
No sleeves, a neckline which ran vertically across the nape of her neck, it was as elegant a piece as she had ever worn.
And she did look beautiful too, of that she had no doubt.
But that the duke had thought to say as much…
I am torn, more than I have been this entire marriage.
A part of me wants the dispassion and isolation, because that means when the year is over, I can be on my way, and there will be no ill feelings.
But the other part cannot help but wonder what it might be like if this marriage were to turn into something real.
It had not felt real once since she walked down the aisle. Not for a moment had she felt like the wife of a duke. But that all changed tonight, the very second that she and the duke entered the ballroom together.
“Make sure to smile,” the duke whispered under his breath as they crossed the threshold into this new world.
“I might say the same to you,” she joked.
His smile was amused. “If I do that, everyone will know that this is little more than a ruse.”
“Is it?”
He frowned at her. “That is the idea.”
“Perhaps…” She shrugged innocently. “But my performance might be better if I knew you were not having the most horrid of times.”
“Does it look as if I am?” He raised an eyebrow at her, and his soft smile spread further across his face.
“Ah, much better.” She clung to his arm as they walked. “We just might fool them yet.”
Their arrival caused a stir unlike any that Clara had found herself in before.
The music did not stop this time, as it had the last time the duke had arrived at the ball, but the attention of nearly everyone in the ballroom still found its way toward them.
Heads swiveled. Eyes widened. Mouths hung open. And then came the whispers.
“Ignore them,” the duke said to her as they walked. The crowd parted for them as if an invisible force pushed them to the side. “They like to stare.”
“I am not used to it.”
He chuckled. “You will be soon, I promise you.”
“How…” Clara felt her cheeks reddening. Never one for being the center of attention, to be thrust into it like this was alarming and uncomfortable. “How do you handle it? Everyone is watching and talking about you?”
“Quite simply.” As they walked, Alaric kept a hand on Clara’s, and he was sure to hold her close to his side. It made her feel safe and protected, as if nothing could harm her so long as he was there. “The trick is to not care what others think.”
She snorted. “Is that so easy?”
“You are the Duchess of Ravencourt. You are above everyone here. The only person whose opinion you should care for is my own.”
She side-eyed him. “Does the same go for you?”
“What do you mean?”
“You say you do not care what others think of you, but I hope you do not extend that feeling in my direction. I hope you care just a little what I think.”
This had the duke frowning to himself as if he did not understand.
Or if he thought she might be joking or trying to get him to admit to something.
It did not escape Clara’s attention that this was the most the two had spoken since they married, and where she felt more comfortable than she’d once thought possible, she could not say if he was of the same mind.
“It does,” he said finally, seeming to relax the moment he did. “You might be the only person here whose opinion I care about at all.”
“That is exactly what I wished to hear,” she laughed. “And do not forget it.”
It took those at the ball a while to grow used to the sight of Alaric and Clara.
For the first fifteen minutes or so, they kept their distance in a way that might suggest a pack of wolves had been set loose among them.
But slowly, as Clara and Alaric spoke and laughed and drank together, they began to close ranks and shuffle in close.
“Your Grace…” A nervous lord was the first to approach them. “What a pleasant surprise it is to see you here.”
“Lord Whitcombe.” Alaric offered him a short nod. “I would not miss it. You know my wife, the Duchess of Ravencourt.”
“Charmed.” Lord Whitcombe took her hand and gave her a kiss on the back. “It is lovely to make your acquaintance. I heard of your marriage, of course. And I was wondering when I would be given the privilege to finally meet she who stole the duke’s heart.”
“Only for safekeeping, I assure you,” Clara joked.
“Tell me…” The lord glanced nervously at Alaric. “How is married life suiting you?”
Clara was under no illusions as to why they were here.
Nobody could believe that their marriage was a natural thing, and everyone assumed without question that she was some sort of victim of a cruel game played by her husband.
This might have upset Clara, as she was well aware of the effect this would have on her own reputation, dashing to pieces the reason she had insisted on this marriage in the first place.
Strangely, I find that I don’t care what they say about me. Stranger still, I find that I do care what they think of Alaric. He is not at all what they assume, and it is time they learned this as a truth.
“It is heavenly.” She made sure to relink her arm through Alaric’s as she spoke. “I have never been happier.”
“Truly?”
“You sound surprised.”
His eyes widened in panic. “Not at all. Just musing on marriage – believe me, I wish I could describe my own marriage in the same way.” He laughed nervously. “Speaking of, where is my wife…” He looked about, eager to escape.
Which he did do, bidding them farewell before thanking them for coming once more.
“The way he runs, you would think that you threatened to eat him,” Clara said.
Surprisingly, the duke laughed. Loudly. It was such an unexpected reaction that it made Clara jump; her first instinct was to assume that something was wrong.
But she turned to face her husband, seeing his smile, hearing his laughter, and she realized then that it was the first time she had heard such a thing.
And it is not at all an unpleasant sound.
More guests came over the following hour, and every single one was told in no uncertain terms that Clara’s marriage to the duke was a dream come true. It was a lie, to be sure, but it felt as if it could be the truth. The potential was there, and all they needed to do was try.
“I grow bored of all this chatter,” Alaric said as they bid Lord Weatherstone goodbye.
“Oh…” Clara felt her stomach drop, for she was enjoying herself immensely. “Did you wish to return home?”
“Not at all,” Alaric said. He unlinked her arm and took her hand. “Rather, I thought we might share a dance.”
Clara leaned back in surprise. “A… a dance?”
“Something the matter?”
“For me? Not at all,” she laughed. “I simply did not take you as a dancer.”
He shrugged. “Looks can be deceiving.”
A truth I am learning every day.
Alaric led Clara to the dance floor just in time to join the other dozen couples who were taking their place across the open floor.
As expected, most of the guests in attendance turned to watch them, their expressions written in shock because surely none had ever dreamed they would see the Duke of Ravencourt dancing. And that wasn’t to mention smiling.
And smile he did. He wore it proudly as he rested one hand on Clara’s waist, the other holding her right hand before them. He pulled her tight to his body, causing Clara to gasp.
She needed to concentrate on what was to come, but she could not help but focus on the feel of the duke’s strong body pressed against her own.
His hand on her waist; a tight grip. His face was mere inches away, so close that she could feel his warm breath tracing against her own lips.
It made her heart flutter, and her body shudder.
It came as no surprise how she was reacting. Admitting from the moment that she met the duke, how handsome he was, what was most surprising was how right it felt. And what was more, the look in his eyes, the way they shone for her, was suggestive that he was feeling the same as she.
“Are you ready?” he asked, his voice low.
“I hope you can keep up,” she shot back with a cocked eyebrow.
The music began, and so did they. There were twelve other couples joining them in their waltz, but the floor might as well have been empty.
That was how it felt to Clara. Her eyes were locked on Alaric’s, his on her, and they did not break their stare once as they moved together; their bodies joined as one.
It was transcendent, how right it felt. It was transportive, seeming to lift them from the past few weeks as if they had not existed.
It was… it is, exactly how I always dreamed a marriage would feel.
“Careful, Your Grace,” Clara said with a wicked smile that was just for him. “You are looking dangerously close to believing your own lies.”
He said nothing to that. Behind his eyes, she could see that same battle raging as it always did. The urge to dismiss her. The desire to ignore her. The need to keep his distance. But the battle was waning, soon it would be lost, and when it was… perhaps this marriage will stand a chance.
And that reason alone was enough to see Clara smile and then laugh, for she could not remember once in her life where she had been this happy.