Chapter 6
Chapter Six
“No need to look so nervous,” the Duke said with a coy smirk that was as frustrating as it was charming.
“I am not nervous,” Celestine said sharply. “I am merely concentrating.”
“Concentrating on not being nervous.”
“No…” She scowled at him. “I am concentrating on not stepping on my dress, losing my balance, and collapsing in a heap in front of half the ton.”
“Oh, there is no need to worry about that,” he said. “If you fall, I will catch you.”
“That would require me to trust you.”
“Do you not?”
In response to that, Celestine offered the Duke a flat look which he responded to with a smirk. This told her that he was not offended by her comment, which wasn’t at all surprising.
It was, however, a little frustrating. Celestine could not say why exactly she was so determined to get under the Duke’s skin.
Just that she wanted to do so. Since the announcement of their fake engagement, the Duke had been nothing but gracious and jovial and charming to a point of absurdity.
He never rose to anger. He never snapped or put Celestine in her place. He was a darn gentleman!
And it is all a lie. Or I think it is. Is that why I constantly test him? As if I need to prove it so that I know what is real and what is false?
These thoughts swirled in her mind, Celestine became momentarily distracted, and as she had feared, she forgot what she was doing. Her feet caught her gown, her eyes turned wide as her balance left her, and she cried out as she prepared to crash to the floor…
“No, you don’t,” the Duke said, his grip on her waist strong and precise and easily able to keep her on her feet. He pulled her in close and flashed his eyes as she found her balance. “I told you that you could trust me.”
“I…” Celestine was about to respond with a typical sharp comment, but she caught her tongue at the last minute. “Thank you,” she said.
“That must have been difficult for you.”
“You have no idea,” she fired back, that time with a smirk of her own.
It was a waltz that the ‘happily’ engaged couple were engaged in. They were one pair of twenty on the dance floor, and they moved together in such perfect harmony that one might have guessed they had done this a dozen times before. It certainly felt like it.
Beyond the dance floor were scores of lords and ladies spread across the grand hall.
Most of them paid the dancing couples no mind, all happy to chatter and laugh among themselves, and drink, and flirt, and socialize as was the point of these events.
But there was a healthy smattering who stood on the outskirts of the dance floor, watching closely as if waiting for their chance to judge.
“I never took you for a dancer,” the Duke said as the two moved effortlessly in time to the music.
“And why is that?”
“I might have thought that while others danced, you would stand in the corner and sulk and scowl.”
She rolled her eyes at him. “Is that really what you think of me?”
“Even if it was, I am quickly being dissuaded of the fact.” He pumped his eyebrows and then threw his head back and laughed as if at a joke.
She frowned at the strange action… and then her face dropped in realization.
Celestine glanced toward the watching crowd, and she knew that his fake laughter was for them.
Since the moment the two arrived at the Ball, they had been the center of attention as most might have heard about their engagement but tonight they were seeing it with their own two eyes.
Despite herself, Celestine felt a pang of disappointment. Just when she thought that she and the Duke were speaking candidly, he would remind her that it was all for show.
Again, she wondered who he really was. Would she ever meet him? And why did she even care?
“There we are…” Slowly, the music slowed, as did their feet to its rhythm. The Duke held her close, their faces inches apart, and she wondered if he would ever let her go. “I would call that a success.”
He released her suddenly and Celestine gasped and lurched. She had been so comfortable in his arms that it felt wrong to be suddenly free from them.
No… that is not… do not be silly, Celestine.
“Shall we?” He offered her his arm.
“I suppose so,” she said with a forced sigh as if the idea of spending more time with him was painful. Secretly, and she hated to admit this, spending time with the Duke was nowhere near as awful as she liked to pretend.
He led her back through the crowd to where Celestine’s mother stood waiting. Unlike the first few times that she had spoken with the Duke, Celestine’s mother was now the picture of perfect poise.
“Your Grace!” She swept toward them, all smiles and rosy cheeks. “I had no idea you were such a wonderful dancer.”
“I surprise even myself,” the Duke said as he unlinked his arm from Celestine.
“Now, if you two fine ladies will excuse me, I must hunt down a friend of mine.” He took Celestine’s hand and brought it to his lips.
It was done purposefully, sure that those nearby watched and saw, but Celestine still felt a ripple burst across her skin and through her body at his touch.
“I cannot believe how wrong I was about him,” her mother said as they watched the Duke walk away. “He is a true gentleman.”
“Yes…” Celestine rubbed her hand where he had kissed it. “I suppose he is.”
“Lady Fairbrook! Miss Celestine Hargrave…” From the crowd appeared Lord Grundon. His voice was pitched high but there was no emotion on his face whatsoever. Behind his eyes, especially, not so much as a smile. “I was hoping to see you both again.”
“Lord Grundon.” Her mother offered a short curtsey. “It is always a pleasure.”
“The pleasure is all mine.” He looked right at Celestine. “Miss Celestine, might you do the honor of dancing with me? I saw you just now and I admit there was a pang of jealousy that I might never have the chance for such a thing.”
“Oh…” Celestine blinked. “I am not so sure that His Grace –”
“It is just a dance,” he cut her off, already linking his arm through her own. “I am certain that His Grace will not mind.”
Before Celestine could object she was being pulled back toward the dance floor.
She did her best to appear aloof, not standing too close or looking as if she enjoyed herself.
But when they reached the floor, Lord Grundon stepped into her, placed a hand on her waist, took her other in his right hand, and ensured their bodies were pressed close.
She noticed immediately how different it felt dancing with Lord Grundon to the Duke. Lord Grundon was like a corpse, cold and clammy, stiff and awkward, no sense at all that he enjoyed himself or thought to at least pretend.
And when she looked at him, there was no smile of satisfaction or pleasure found. His face was as stiff as his body.
There is something off about him… although I cannot say what.
Celestine had noticed it the first time that they met too.
While most had nothing but good things to say about Lord Grundon, she could not escape the feeling that his reputation did not match who he was as a person.
He was just so… false. So controlled in everything he did and said.
Nothing about him was real, and it all felt purposefully contrived to help bolster the name he’d made for himself.
“I was surprised to hear of you and His Grace,” Lord Grundon began once the music started and he led her with the other couples. “And a tad disappointed, I will not deny.”
“Is that right?”
“I suppose it is my fault for being too subtle,” he continued, not sounding the least upset. “A mistake I will not make the next time.”
“There will not be a next time,” she said a little too quickly. “His Grace and I are set to wed.”
“I was merely speaking in generalities,” he noted plainly. “I do wonder about your marriage, however. An odd couple, if I have ever seen one.”
“It is not so odd,” she defended, almost annoyed that he would make such a comment. “His Grace and I are…” She cleared her throat. “We are in love.”
“I am sure you are,” he said without any indication that he believed it. “I will keep a keen eye on you both. More for curiosity’s sake than anything. Truly, to see how the two of you progress…” It was subtle, but Celestine saw a hint of a smile pass behind his eyes. “That will be quite the sight.”
She said nothing in response, nor did she speak again for the rest of the dance. And neither did Lord Grundon for that matter, apparently happy with what was said, preferring the stiff awkwardness of silence as he led her across the floor.
Once the dance was finished, she expected him to lead her back to her mother, only Lord Grundon had different plans.
The Duke stood by the edge of the circle as if in wait. He watched them both coldly, a curl to his upper lip, and a glare in his eyes. Celestine glanced at Lord Grundon, and she frowned when she saw a touch of a smirk find his lips; it was the first true showing of emotion he had given all evening.
“Your Grace,” Lord Grundon said as he came to a stop before the Duke. “You are a lucky man.”
“Lord Grundon…” He stepped into Lord Grundon. “Might I ask what you are doing dancing with my fiancé?”
“As you said,” Lord Grundon said simply. “We were dancing. I suppose I wished to see what type of woman might steal the Duke’s heart so fastidiously where so many others have failed.” His smirk rose slightly. “Now, I know the answer.”
“What does that mean?”
Lord Grundon shrugged. “Nothing at all.” He turned and bowed to Celestine. “Miss Celestine, it was a pleasure.” A final smirk of triumph toward the Duke and Lord Grundon turned and walked away.
Celestine looked from where Lord Grundon had been standing to the Duke who still glared in anger. “What was that about?”
“That was not very well done, Celestine,” the Duke hissed at her. He was sure to keep his voice low so they would not be overheard. “You ought to know better than making a mockery of our engagement like that.”
“I did no such thing.”