Chapter 17
“You’re going to burn a hole through her dress if you keep staring like that,” a familiar voice came from behind him.
Aaron forced his gaze away from where Louise stood with the dowagers, her laugh carrying across the ballroom like music.
Ernest leaned against the wall beside him, champagne in hand, amusement written across his features.
“I’m merely ensuring she’s properly chaperoned.”
“By four of the most formidable women in London?” Ernest’s eyebrow arched. “Yes, clearly she needs your protection from the Dowager Brigade.”
“She’s my responsibility until her brother is found.”
“Found?” Ernest’s voice dropped lower. “No luck yet, then?”
“None.” Aaron took a sip of his champagne, scanning the crowd for Louise. She stood with the Duchess of Raynsford now, her face animated as they discussed something. “Howlett has leads, but George remains frustratingly elusive.”
“Probably for the best, given what you told me about his associations.” Ernest swirled his glass. “And in the meantime, you’ve installed his beautiful sister in your household and appointed yourself her protector.” Ernest studied him with uncomfortable perception. “How very noble of you.”
“Someone had to help them.”
“Of course.” Ernest’s eyebrow arched. “That explains why you nearly took my head off when I complimented her earlier.”
“I did nothing of the sort.”
“And I suppose your jaw isn’t clenching right now because Sheridan is looking at her like she’s the last sweet at a tea party?”
Aaron forced his jaw to relax. It didn’t work.
“Aaron.” Ernest’s voice gentled. “We’ve known each other since Eton. You can lie to yourself if you wish, but don’t insult my intelligence.”
Aaron said nothing, his attention drawn back to Louise despite his best efforts. The silk of her gown caught the light with every gesture, making her glow like she’d been touched by moonlight.
“She’s beautiful,” Ernest observed. “And clearly wellborn, despite her current circumstances. Once her brother returns from his … adventures … she’ll have suitors lining up.”
The thought sent an unexpected spike of rage through Aaron. He gripped his champagne flute so tightly he feared it might shatter.
“There.” Ernest pointed with his glass. “That’s what I’m talking about. You look ready to challenge someone to a duel, and all I did was mention theoretical suitors.”
“The lady is under my protection. Any suitors would need to be carefully vetted.”
“By you?”
“By—”
“And I suppose your jaw isn’t clenching right now because Thornbury is circling her like a hawk eyeing a field mouse?”
Aaron’s gaze snapped to where Baron Thornbury had materialized at Louise’s elbow. The man had a reputation for charming widows and compromising debutantes, his handsome face and straightforward manner concealing a predatory nature that made Aaron’s fists itch.
“Aaron?” Ernest’s voice seemed to come from very far away. “You’re crushing your glass.”
The orchestra struck up a waltz. Aaron watched in growing fury as the baron extended his hand to Louise, clearly requesting a dance. She hesitated for just a moment, glancing around the ballroom before placing her hand in Thornbury’s.
Aaron moved without conscious thought. One moment, he stood beside Ernest, the next, he was striding across the ballroom, ignoring the startled looks and hasty movements to clear his path.
“Lady Louise.”
She turned, eyes widening as he appeared at her elbow. Thornbury’s hand was still extended, waiting.
“Your Grace.” Her voice held a note of warning.
“You promised me the first waltz.” The lie came out smooth as silk, his hand capturing hers before she could protest.
“I don’t recall—”
“How could you forget?” He was already drawing her away from Thornbury, whose expression had shifted from confusion to understanding to carefully blank politeness. “If you’ll excuse us.”
Aaron didn’t wait for a response, pulling Louise onto the dance floor as the opening notes filled the air. His hand found her waist, perhaps gripping tighter than strictly proper, while hers rested on his shoulder with obvious tension.
“What are you doing?” she hissed as they began to move.
“Dancing. I believe that’s traditional at balls.”
“That was incredibly rude. I never promised you anything.”
“Didn’t you?” He spun her, using the movement to pull her closer. “I distinctly remember promises.”
“People are staring.” Her cheeks flushed pink, and he could hear the whispers spreading like wildfire around them.
“Did you see that?”
“Practically snatched her away …”
“The duke never dances …”
“Living in his house …”
“What will people think?”
The warmth of her waist beneath his palm sent heat racing through his veins. She fit against him perfectly, as if she’d been designed for this moment, for his arms. Her scent clouded his senses, a lavender dream he never wished to wake up from.
“Let them stare,” Aaron said, his voice rougher than he intended.
Her fingers tightened on his shoulder, and he felt the tremor run through her. “Easy for you to say. Your reputation isn’t hanging by a thread.”
“While you’re under my roof, no man touches you without my permission.” He guided her through a turn, using the movement to eliminate another inch of space between them.
Her breath caught as his thumb brushed the edge of her ribs through the silk. Then, Louise’s eyes flashed with something dangerous. “But you did.”
The words hit him like cold water. His jaw clenched so hard it ached. “That was a mistake.”
“I agree that it was.” She laughed, but there was no humor in it. “And because of that, you do not get to intervene whenever a gentleman expresses interest in me, as you did just now.”
“Louise—”
“No.” Her voice remained low, but fury radiated from every word. “You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to kiss me as if I matter, pronounce it a mistake, then act jealous when another man shows interest.”
“You don’t understand—”
She lifted her gaze to meet his, and the impact nearly stopped him mid-step. Her green eyes held heat and confusion.
“I understand perfectly. You want me when it’s convenient, when no one’s watching, when you can pretend it means nothing. But heaven forbid someone else might want me too.”
“That’s not—” He pulled her closer, propriety be damned. “You think this is convenient? You think watching you smile at other men, dance with them, and potentially marry them is convenient?”
“Then what is it?”
The question hung between them as they moved through the steps of the waltz. Aaron could feel every eye in the ballroom on them, could hear his father’s voice warning about public displays, about maintaining control, about the danger of wanting too much.
“It’s torture,” he admitted, his voice dropping to a whisper only she could hear. “Every moment you’re near me is torture. Because I can’t have you. Every moment you’re away is worse, because I can’t see you.”
Louise’s lips parted in surprise, her steps faltering slightly.
“I can’t stop thinking about that night,” he continued, the words pouring out despite every instinct screaming at him to stop. “About how you felt in my arms. How you tasted. How you sounded when you—”
“Aaron.” His name on her lips was barely a breath.
“I try to stay away. Try to be the gentleman you deserve. But then I saw you with him, with any man who might take you from me, and I …” He spun her again, using the movement to pull her impossibly closer. “I lose all reason. All control.”
They stared at each other, the ballroom fading away.
There was only Louise in his arms, her eyes wide with something that might have been hope or might have been heartbreak.
Only the rapid rise and fall of her breath, the pink flush spreading from her cheeks down to the neckline of that torturous dress.
“You unravel me,” he whispered.
The music ended. The spell broke.
Louise stepped back immediately, dropping into a perfect curtsy that somehow felt like goodbye. “Your Grace.”
She turned and walked away, her spine straight and head high despite the whispers that followed her path.
Aaron stood alone on the dance floor, watching her disappear into the crowd, knowing he had just made everything infinitely worse and infinitely more honest.
“Well.” Ernest appeared at his elbow, offering a fresh glass of champagne. “That was subtle.”
Aaron drained the glass in one swallow. “Not right now, Ernest.”
“The entire ton is going to be talking about this tomorrow.”
“Enough.”
“She’s magnificent, by the way.” Ernest’s voice turned serious. “Don’t let your fear of becoming your father cost you something real.”
Aaron turned to stare at his oldest friend. “What do you know about— ”
“I know you’ve spent your entire adult life avoiding any woman who might actually matter. I know you think wanting someone the way your father wanted his mistresses makes you weak.” Ernest gripped his shoulder. “And I know that you’re nothing like him.”
“You don’t understand—”
“I understand that you just practically declared yourself in front of three hundred witnesses.” Ernest squeezed his shoulder once more. “The question is, what are you going to do about it?”
Aaron stood frozen for a moment, watching the space where Louise had disappeared. The entire ballroom seemed to pulse around him, conversations resuming, music starting again, the world moving forward while he remained suspended.
Blast it.
He set his empty glass on the tray of a passing footman. “Excuse me.”
Ernest’s eyebrows rose. “Where are you going?”
But Aaron was already gone.