Chapter Sixteen #2
Her gown, of cream silk, sparkled in the light as though encrusted with jewels and her head appeared to be haloed in the same way. One hand held up the train by a loop on her finger, and the other rested feather-light on the banisters.
But it was not the gown that drew his attention.
It was her face. Never had she looked so lovely, not even after they’d had a fast canter in the park and she’d pulled up her horse, cheeks pink and eyes alight with such enjoyment it had made his heart ache.
He had eyes only for her, the crowd receding into a blur around him.
She possessed the face of an angel, her lips slightly parted in the ghost of a smile as she began to walk down the wide staircase.
A staircase that could have been made for just such an entrance.
And a miracle had happened. She had eyes only for him.
She didn’t take them off him as she slowly descended those stairs, with every person in the room unable to do anything but stare. Surely none of them had ever seen such a beautiful creature, risen as though from the pages of a fairy tale. A princess. A magical creature. His wife.
His heart swelled with love. Love, not lust. Well, some lust, of course, but all the rest was love.
Somehow the realization that this was his wife approaching hadn’t sunk in. It had been as if she were some woman he’d never met before and he was her servant. He swallowed, everyone else in the room unimportant, unnoticed. All he could see was her.
She reached the bottom step and paused, her eyes still fixed on his. The little smile twitched and with slow steps she approached.
His breath caught in his throat, and if Marianne couldn’t hear his heart pounding he’d have been astonished.
Sweat prickled down his back and across his forehead, but he was not thinking with his body for once, but with his heart.
This fairy-tale princess was the woman he wanted to cherish, not just to bed.
This was the woman he wanted to be with for the rest of his life, not just as a business arrangement between friends, but as lovers.
As two people who wanted to be together forever, shutting out the world.
She stopped in front of him. He could see tiny seed pearls embedded in her hair, sparkling in the candlelight.
Her eyes…how could he not have looked so deeply into them before and seen the gold flecks hidden there in their depths?
Of course, her glasses had hidden this from him.
Her slightly parted, luscious lips…the swell of her alabaster breasts.
And now he felt some of the lust return, mingling with the unaccustomed longing to protect this vulnerable creature forever.
She curtseyed, at last dropping her gaze.
When she rose from the curtsey, she met his eyes again.
He held out his hand. “Madam, will you dance?”
And now she did smile. “With pleasure, Captain.”
Someone, Marianne, perhaps, had instructed the orchestra to strike up a waltz.
As the music rose to the stuccoed ceiling, Fitz whirled his wife out onto the dance floor, for a few moments the only couple dancing before an audience of their guests.
But he didn’t even notice they were alone, because all he could think of was the lithe creature in his arms and the feel of her body under his fingers as they danced. There was no need for words.
Was this a dream he was going to waken from?
It wasn’t just her unexpected arrival, her transformation into a princess, or holding her in his arms. It was the look on her face.
She was happy, and perhaps he was the cause of her happiness.
This was a moment he never wanted to end.
He would not let her dance with anyone else but him. She was his.
But every dance has to end.
Georgiana felt as though her body was glowing from the top of her head down to her toes.
That her first ever dance with a gentleman should be this, with the man she’d known for a some time now that she loved, and with him looking down at her in the way he was, could never be bettered.
If only this moment could last forever. If only they could dance away on a cloud to heaven she would be content.
But every dance has to end.
The music stopped and so did they. However, he didn’t release his hold on her.
Instead, they stood motionless in the middle of the dance floor, his arm strong around her waist, and the touch of his hand in the middle of her back as though a hot brand had marked her skin.
The rest of the dancers, laughing and chattering, milled around them, some of the ladies fanning themselves and moving off for refreshments, the gentlemen searching out their partners for the next dance.
That people might be watching them in curiosity didn’t occur to her, and if it had, she wouldn’t have cared.
She never wanted him to let go of her. Could he really be looking down at her out of eyes that seemed to hold love?
Was Harriet right? Did he care for her in a way he’d not cared for the other women in his life?
Had the dress worked, as Fanny had said it would?
Might she be the real woman who would draw him out of the hard shell he’d hidden himself beneath?
“Georgiana!” The spell was broken. Fanny appeared as if from nowhere, her face pink with exertion from the dance and her eyes alight with excitement.
“That is the most beautiful gown I’ve ever seen, made more beautiful by the woman wearing it.
Thank goodness I introduced you to Mrs. Bean.
Harriet’s already told me about the fright of a dress her mother got from her own dressmaker.
You were lucky you had me to rely on. And Harriet. ”
Fitz removed his hand from her back, but didn’t let go of her other hand, as though he wanted to hang onto her as much as she did to him, his fingers slipping between hers in a way they never had before.
She tightened her hold in return. She didn’t want him to think this was over. She wanted it never to be over.
“It is lovely,” she managed, her voice a little hoarse.
“Lemonade,” Fitz said, his voice as hoarse as hers. “The dance will have made you thirsty.”
Georgiana shot Fanny a fierce frown as her friend opened her mouth to possibly say she would accompany them and was rewarded by a dawning expression of understanding.
Her friend closed her mouth. “I must go and find Mama,” she said, for a moment sounding flustered.
“For some ridiculous reason she allowed Horatia to come tonight as a special treat and she’s asked me to help keep an eye on her.
As if that’s my job. Sisters.” And she flounced away.
They were alone again, although in truth they were not alone at all as all around them couples were lining up for the next dance—a country dance.
“Lemonade?” Fitz asked again. Less hoarse now.
Georgiana swallowed. They really needed to move or they would be caught up in this next dance.
“No…not now. Thank you.” She swallowed again, gathering her courage.
“What I would very much like, though, is a little fresh air, as it feels suddenly so very stuffy in here.” Was she really inviting him to take her out onto the terrace away from everyone else?
Her boldness shocked her. Then she remembered she was a married woman and there was nothing at all wrong with taking the air with her husband.
It worked. He nodded and she perceived a glint in his dark eyes.
“The terrace.” Although she’d once been on a terrace with another gentleman, and look where that had ended.
Only it couldn’t this time, because if it did, they were a married couple and it would not be wrong.
She pushed thoughts of that other time out of her head.
No one was on the terrace, but it was illuminated by several lamps revealing a few tables and chairs.
Fitz closed the door behind them shutting out the noise of the ball.
The silence of the night closed in around them, the cool air raising goose pimples on her bare arms. Gloves should be longer. Or she should have brought a shawl.
He turned to face her. “Georgiana…” Hunger laced his voice.
She stepped closer. “Fitz…” Was that a matching hunger she detected in her own? The hammering of her heart reverberated in her ears. At speed.
His hand came up to cup her cheek and a shiver of electricity ran down her body to every nerve ending at his touch. “You’re the most beautiful girl in London.”
Oh, how she’d longed to hear him say that.
She inclined her head a little, leaning into the caress, savoring the feel of his warm hand on her skin, her eyes closing.
This was a dream, a perfect dream. She was a sinner and this could only be a dream as sinners did not receive rewards like this. They didn’t get what they longed for.
His thumb traced her jawline sending aftershocks of pleasure through her body, to her very core, which felt as though it were made of molten metal, hot and liquid. Could he feel the way her body was responding? Her breath came in shudders that surely he must have noticed.
“It’s not just your gown that makes you beautiful…” This was a man with a reputation as a rake and yet he sounded unsure of himself.
She lifted her own hand and echoed his touch, his cheek a little rough under her fingers.
Rough and raspy and undeniably masculine.
Alexander’s chin had been baby smooth. She pushed the unwelcome memory aside, furious at its intercession at such a moment.
Let Fitz realize how she felt about him.
Please. Let Alexander stay where he belonged.
He moved closer, only inches between their bodies now, heat emanating from him and warming her.
She gazed up into his face, mesmerised, unable to look away as his head bent towards hers, closer, closer.
Without thinking, she slid her hand into his hair, something she’d wanted to do for a long time.
How soft it was. How silky. His face was so close, now, she could feel his breath on her cheeks.
Was he going to kiss her? Oh, how she wanted him to, her lips parting in welcome.
Alexander shouldered his way into her head again.
After his first, tentative kiss, he’d kissed her almost with aggression, his kisses hot and demanding and almost frightening.
Would kisses from Fitz be frightening too?
She badly wanted to find out. She might like that very much.
They were so close now, their bodies were touching. Was that his heart she could feel hammering in his chest in time with hers? And if so, could he feel hers?
His lips hovered over hers, so close but still so far. “I would very much like to kiss my wife,” he whispered.
She pushed Alexander out of her head for good. “And your wife would like you to do that.”
The kiss was gentle. His mouth was warm on hers, his fingers sliding through her carefully arranged hair, one arm around her waist pressing her body to his.
After a moment of hesitation, she kissed him back, her mouth opening under his.
His tongue came gently searching for hers until they met.
For a moment it shocked her, then she responded.
The kiss deepened, his hold on her tightened and she felt his arousal pressed against her.
An arousal she knew very little about despite what she’d allowed Alexander to do to her.
However, she knew it meant he wanted her physically, and the thrill of that knowledge coursed through her body, heating her core still further.
She pulled his head closer, her fingers delighting in the soft curls of his hair, pressing her lips to his.
She could have kissed him forever, but as with dances, every kiss must come to an end.
Their lips parted at last, but they didn’t move apart, instead standing with their arms around one another in the friendly gloom of the terrace, faces a bare inch apart as though neither could bear to separate further.
She gazed up at him, a question on her lips but without the courage to ask it. Did she want to know the answer?
His eyes were almost black in this light, and a stray curl had fallen forward over his pale forehead. Without thinking, she brushed it back and he caught her hand and pressed it to his mouth, kissing one fingertip after another. She closed her eyes, revelling in the intimacy of the moment.
Her eyes flicked back open as she felt him lean closer again, his cheek against hers, his mouth against her ear. His voice was low and husky and a little wondering, as though the words he was forming were strange to him. “I think, to my surprise, I’ve fallen in love with you, Mrs.. Carlyon.”
Emotion, a heady mix of relief, exhilaration, delight, excitement and joy cascaded through her and her eyes widened as she pulled slightly away so she could look into his face.
For a moment she stared at him, now knowing the answer to her unspoken question and what she wanted to say to him, in return.
“And I’m quite sure I’ve fallen in love with you, Captain Carlyon. ”
He kissed her again. Then again. And again.
They stayed out on the terrace a long time, warmed by their own love, wrapped in one another’s arms and a cloak of hot passion, oblivious to the ball going on inside in their honor.
Uncaring that their absence might be noticed.
Nothing else mattered, only what was here on the shadowy terrace.
Some little time later, although quite how long, Georgiana had no idea, Fitz whispered into her ear. “Shall we go home? Abandon this ball? By ourselves?”
Lips a little numb from all the kissing, which he was very good at, and more than a little breathless, she nodded.
“I should like that very much.” She had no illusions about what this meant.
Every part of her tingled with a longing that was quite new to her.
A different feeling from the hurried urgency she’d had with Alexander that had led her to this very moment.
They would go home now, alone, and she would know what it was to be loved.