Chapter 11 #2
Emily stopped dead in her tracks, pulling back to look at Euphemia with an expression of profound exasperation.
“No, Effie. That is absolutely not what I am talking about. There is a vast difference, and I declare I do not want to hear the word cordial cross your lips ever again. Theodore and I hate that word. It’s a long story.
But it is truly one of the worst words in the English language, and it has absolutely no place in a marriage! ”
Emily shook her head, her smile turning playful. “What is going on in the romance aspect? Are you finishing each other’s sentences? Are you holding hands? Are you hugging?”
Euphemia felt her cheeks burning. “No! We are not doing any of that.”
“Is it something you would want?” Emily asked quietly, her gaze turning gentle and searching.
Euphemia went still. The question hung in the air, forcing her to look inward. She stopped, staring down at her fan as she thought about the enigmatic man she had bound herself to.
“There was a time,” Euphemia replied softly, her voice barely carrying over the ballroom music, “When I never thought I could get along with a man like him. He was just so rigid, so uptight, and frankly, he came across as utterly demeaning at first. While he is admittedly still all of those things, he only shows those sharp edges occasionally now. Lately, I have started to see entirely different sides of him. He is very caring in his own way, and he ensures I want for nothing.”
She swallowed down the sudden lump in her throat, thinking of their awkward conversation at her bedroom door.
“But when it comes to love, I am truly not sure. Right now, I am only just beginning to see him in a different light. I feel as though if I were truly in love with him, I would know it, and I am certainly not there at the moment. Besides, I highly doubt such a feeling would ever be returned. His Grace still views me like a guest in his home. Even though he claimed earlier today that I am now his family because I am under his roof, I do not truly feel it from him. I only feel that genuine sense of family when I am with little Cordelia. To him, I am simply someone he had to marry so that everyone could secure a better future.”
Before Emily could offer a reply, a pair of deep voices cut through the surrounding chatter.
“There you are, ladies,” Theodore said warmly.
Euphemia’s heart gave a sudden, nervous thud as she looked up. Nathaniel and Theodore were approaching, their business discussion apparently finished for the evening. Euphemia and Emily instantly snapped their mouths shut, offering bright, innocent smiles as the two gentlemen joined them.
Theodore turned his gaze to Euphemia, a warm smile playing on his lips. “Your Grace, you look exceptionally lovely tonight. Hopefully, someone has already told you that this evening.” He tilted his head coyly, his eyes darting pointedly toward Nathaniel to tease him.
Before Nathaniel could offer a response, Theodore looked back at his own wife and reached out his hand. “I would like to steal Emily away from you for a moment, if you do not mind. This is the first dance of the evening, and I absolutely intend to have it with her. It is her favorite piece.”
Emily beamed, placing her hand in her husband’s as he gently led her away toward the center of the room, leaving Euphemia and Nathaniel standing alone in the alcove.
An immediate awkwardness settled over them. Euphemia kept her eyes trained on the dancers, shifting her weight slightly, while Nathaniel cleared his throat, adjusting the cuffs of his dark coat.
“You do look lovely tonight,” Nathaniel said, breaking the silence. He looked down at her, his stern features softening just a fraction. “I am sorry I failed to mention it sooner.”
Euphemia glanced up at him, a mischievous spark lighting up her eyes. “It is quite all right. It is not as if you are a man prone to throwing around compliments anyway, so it isn’t as though I was missing anything.”
Nathaniel stared at her, a look of amused disbelief crossing his face. “Are you truly going to pick a fight with me right now, Euphemia?”
“Well...” she countered smoothly, tilting her chin up. “... just because you finally noticed my appearance and told me I look nice does not mean you should expect me to stroke your ego and say you look handsome too. I am certainly not going to do that.”
Nathaniel let out a soft breathy chuckle, shaking his head. “I assure you, I was not expecting you to do any such thing.”
“Fine,” Euphemia said, stowing her fan away.
“Fine,” Nathaniel replied.
They fell back into silence, but the awkwardness from before had vanished. Euphemia had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing out loud, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. It was a thoroughly amusing interaction, and at that moment, she came to a striking realization.
She was actually starting to enjoy their bickering.
Her teasing was becoming a deliberate choice, a way to provoke that exact, human reaction out of the otherwise unshakeable man.
For some utterly bizarre reason, she had missed their back-and-forth exchanges during the days at the estate, and she found the playful friction worth it.
Nathaniel broke into her thoughts, extending his arm toward her. “Would you care to join me for the first dance of the night, Your Grace?”
Euphemia hesitated, her eyes instantly darting back to the crowded floor.
The anxiety flared up, making her stomach twist. “I... I am not entirely sure that is a wise choice, Your Grace. People are already whispering so loudly. I do not know if I wish to give them any more ammunition, or force myself into the direct spotlight quite yet.”
Instead of stepping back, Nathaniel shifted his stance, moving to stand directly in front of her. He blocked out the rest of the ballroom, his piercing eyes holding hers with a deeply knowing, deliberate look.
As she stared up at him, the message in his gaze clicked instantly.
He didn’t say a word, yet he was loudly reminding her of the conversation they had shared in her bedroom only days prior.
He was reminding her of his promise, that he was the Duke of Greymoor, that he had everything under control, and that she was his family now.
Euphemia swallowed the lump of nerves in her throat. “I am sorry,” she murmured softly, acknowledging her momentary lapse in courage. She placed her hand firmly upon his forearm, a smile breaking through her hesitation. “Yes, I would, in fact, love to dance.”
Nathaniel guided her smoothly out of the shadows of the alcove and onto the hardwood of the dance floor.
The whispers around them seemed to swell for a moment as the crowd realized the Duke and his controversial new Duchess were taking the floor, but Nathaniel didn’t give the onlookers a single glance.
As they took their positions and the music swelled around them, he leaned down slightly, his voice a low murmur meant only for her ears. “Ignore them, Euphemia. They can do nothing but talk.”
She looked up into his dark, handsome face as he stepped closer, taking her hand and placing his other firmly at her waist to lead her into the rhythm of the dance.
In an instant, her heart gave a violent flutter against her ribs.
A rush of heat flooded her cheeks, and she found herself wondering, with a sense of panic, if it was truly a good idea to be standing in such tight, breathless proximity to a man who could affect her this deeply.
But it was too late to pull back now.
“You know, I once read of a young lady who was so all apprehension about her entrance into the world that she spent her first assembly terrified of the magnificent spaces, trembling lest her rustic upbringing had rendered her totally unfit for the company.”
Euphemia froze for a fraction of a second, her feet completely missing a beat of the menuet before his firm grip on her waist smoothly forced her back into the rhythm. She pulled back as far as decorum allowed, staring up at him with her blue eyes wide with utter astonishment.
“That... that is from the first volume of Evelina,” she breathed, her voice rising slightly in her excitement. “The Howard Grove assembly.”
“Shh,” Nathaniel urged, a sharp glint of amusement dancing in his eyes as he looked around them. “We are in the very middle of a crowded ballroom, Euphemia. Who is the one drawing unnecessary attention to ourselves now?”
“I do not care,” Euphemia whispered fiercely, as a radiant smile completely replacing the tension on her face. “You read it? You actually went into the library and read Evelina: the History of a Young Lady’s Entrance into the World?”
Nathaniel cleared his throat, his posture instantly stiffening. “Yes, I glanced through it. But only out of sheer curiosity, I assure you. Not because you told me to do so.”
“Oh, it is absolutely because I told you to!” Euphemia countered, her heart doing a completely different, dizzying kind of flutter now. A wave of intense pride and joy rushed through her, warming her from the inside out.
“You shouldn’t even attempt to deny it, Your Grace. I actually influenced the great, unshakeable Duke of Greymoor to alter his behavior and read a sentimental epistolary novel he would otherwise never touch. I do believe this is my greatest achievement to date, and I am immensely proud of myself.”
Nathaniel let out a hearty laugh, the sound warm and incredibly intimate in the small space between them.
“Please, stop. This is hardly a monumental occasion, Euphemia, so do not get ahead of yourself. I simply picked up the volume because I found myself unable to sleep one night and was terribly bored.”