Chapter 20
“That went even better than I had hoped.” Harriet beamed as she brushed her fingers against Theodore’s arm.
He forced himself not to still at her touch, the warmth of it sending tingles across his body. He suppressed a shiver, the corner of his mouth curving into a smile.
They were standing at the edge of the dancefloor in the ballroom of Coldmere manor. He could feel the eyes of everyone on them, and he could not blame them.
Harriet looked like a goddess. She wore a pearl necklace that he had given her. It had belonged to his mother, and as he had given it to her, his heart had soared. Every time her fingers touched the delicate pearls, he felt as though it was his skin she was touching.
Unconsciously, he shifted his weight, squeezing a knot in his shoulder. A lock of hair fell across Harriet’s face, but before he could brush it away, she did.
She was looking around the room, tapping her foot against the floor in time to the music. “I think we should talk to the Greyfallows next, the Earl and his wife are old family friends. They have many business connections, and I happen to know that the Earl at least is rather fond of riding.”
Theodore did not follow Harriet’s gaze. He did not want to stop looking at her, not even for a second. She was still tapping her foot in time with the music, not quite swaying.
“I think we should dance.” The words fell from his lips, catching him by surprise.
Harriet turned to face him, a slight crease on her brow. She looked at the dancefloor and then back at him. “Really?”
“All evening you have helped me with introductions and social connections. I think we can afford a little enjoyment, do you not?”
“I am rather rusty. It has been a very long time since I have danced.” Harriet chewed on her bottom lip.
“Then it would seem we are well suited.” He held out a hand to her, and bowed. “Shall we shake off the cobwebs together, Duchess?”
Harriet’s eyes darkened momentarily, her lips parting. Wordlessly, she took his hand. Even through her gloves, the feel of her hand in his was like being struck by lightning.
Every part of him felt alive, and as he led her to the dancefloor, he swore he had grown half a foot. He held her, his mind going through the appropriate steps and form.
The music started, and they began to dance. They moved as one. It had been years since Theodore had danced, but as soon as they began, it felt as though they were made to dance together.
The missed steps seemed unimportant, each movement was just an extension of one another’s body. Where he led, she followed, flowing with him like a river. He spun her. “For someone who claims to be out of practice, you dance rather well.”
“I could say the same of you.” She was a little breathless as he caught her. “I cannot remember the last time I was asked to dance. I have forgotten how nice it can be.”
He saw her face fall slightly, and the sight tugged at his heart. I should have asked you sooner. “Dancing? Or being asked?”
“Both, I suppose.” She faltered, biting her lip but Theodore held her steady, guiding her around the dance floor. “It is easy to get used to fading into the background when you are surrounded by so many extraordinary people.”
“I do not know how anyone could not notice you.” Theodore nodded his head at the eyes that he could feel on them.
Harriet glanced around, and shook her head. “You did not see me before. I… I was terrified of being seen, of drawing too much attention and ruining everything. The invisibility became like a safety net, and I wore it so long, I forgot how to take it off.”
Theodore tried to picture Harriet, surrounded by a sea of people, disappearing into that sea. He squeezed her hand gently, without thinking. “I would have seen you.”
“Not everyone is as observant as you.” She gave him a small, sad smile.
“Anyone who has eyes should have been able to see what was right in front of them.” His words came out more fiercely than he intended, and for the briefest of seconds, he thought she would recoil from him.
He waited for her body to tense, but it did not. If anything, she seemed to soften into his touch, shifting ever so slightly. The movement sent a wave of warmth through him.
“And yet they did not.” Harriet sighed. “In truth, before you and I met, I had rather resigned myself to the life of a spinster. I thought I would find myself a nice cottage in the country and live out the rest of my days there.”
He frowned. “That seems lonely.”
“It seemed like the best I could hope for. At the very least it would be peaceful. Besides, I would not need to worry about what anyone else thought, and it saved me trying to contort myself into the right shape to find a husband.” She shrugged.
“Let others think what they want of you, their opinions do not matter.” His voice was a soft growl. “There is only one that does.”
Harriet gave a wry chuckle, smiling at him through her eyelashes. “Let me guess, my husband’s?”
“No.” He could tell she was teasing him, but he did not care, he let all the earnestness he felt seep into his voice. He shifted as they danced, the movement bringing her even closer to him.
He heard her intake of breath, felt her muscles tense, but she did not pull away from him. Her eyes flitted across his face. He waited for them to stop, to meet his. They were like summer fields, open and inviting.
Her breath caressed the skin of his face. His voice was low, serious. “It is you. This is your life Harriet; your opinion is the one that is most important.”
The music stopped, and so did their dance. She slipped from his grasp, and he curled his fingers against his palms, the warmth of her etched onto his skin. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips were parted, her eyes bright and shiny in the light.
He could feel the eyes of the ton on them. Sense the men watching Harriet like a pack of hungry wolves as she moved towards the edge of the dancefloor. Something primal woke in his belly, prowling and snarling.
He reached for her hand, clasping her gloved fingers in his own.
Her eyes widened as he swept low, brushing his lips across her knuckles.
He heard her breath hitch as his stomach roared its approval.
He kept a hold of her hand as he looked up at her.
“Would you do me the honor of dancing with me once more?”
“Is that not a little improper?” Harriet’s voice was breathless, the flush of her cheeks a deep scarlet. “One is expected to share one’s time amongst everyone.”
The beast within Theodore howled in rage, but he kept it from his face. “Is that what you want?”
“I…” Her fingers twined around the pearls at her neck. “No. I do not want to dance with anyone else.”
A triumphant purr rang through Theodore’s mind at her answer, and unconsciously he straightened, towering above everyone, as he pulled Harriet into the start of a waltz.
“For tonight, your dances belong to me and me alone. Let the ton see what I do, let them understand just who they let slip through their fingers.”
“For a man who claims not to know how to compliment, you seem rather adept at it to me.” Harriet’s fingers rested against his shoulder, their heat like tongues of flame even through his shirt.
You make it easy. “Perhaps I have been practicing.” He flashed her a grin as they began to dance in time with the music and was rewarded with a laugh.
The sound travelled through him, mingling with the music in perfect harmony as they began to dance once more. His breath caught and he would have missed his step, had it not been for the perfect way Harriet moved with him.
Theodore was not sure how long they danced, only that at some point, the room had felt far too small to contain them. His head felt light, and as he stepped into the cool night air with Harriet beside him, he breathed in deeply.
The moon was high in the sky, and a breeze brushed gently against his cheeks. He offered an arm to Harriet as they walked down the stairs into the gardens. She did not remove her arm from his as they reached the bottom of the stairs, and he felt a jolt of excitement run through him.
They fell into step beside one another. Neither moved in any particular hurry. The passing clouds cast shadows around them that made the garden seem alive with potential and promise. His body was primed, he felt free, lighter than he had in years.
When he glanced at Harriet in the moonlight, he felt as though he had missed several steps, his stomach and heart tumbling over one another.
How is she so beautiful?
The muscles of his body tingled as though some kind of charge ran through him.
“I love gardens in the moonlight.” Harriet sighed as she gestured around them. “There is something magical about them. It is like they come alive.”
“There is a flower at Irondale, in the glass house, and it blooms once a year after sunset. I could show you, if you would like.” Theodore offered, enjoying the way his footsteps crunched on the ground beneath them and how Harriet had shifted closer to him.
“We have a Queen of Night?” Harriet gaped at him. “I have always wanted to see one, but they are devilishly hard to come by and even harder to cultivate.”
“We have several, in fact.” Theodore did not know why he found her surprise so endearing, but he found himself wondering if he could get any more flowers. I want her to smile like this always.
“I cannot believe I have never noticed them.” Harriet let out a low whistle that sent a shiver through Theodore’s body.
His cleared his throat, relieved when his voice came out less hoarse than he expected. “It is not yet the season for them to bloom, and they are rather unassuming until then – easy to miss.”
“I suppose so.” A lock of hair fell across Harriet’s face, but before Theodore could brush it from her cheek, she swept it behind an ear. “Oh! Look!”
She slipped from his grasp, and ducked towards something on the path.
He missed the warmth of her immediately, his fingers absently brushed the place her arm had been a moment before as he watched her stoop low to the ground, and pick up a small flower that had clearly been plucked earlier in the day.
From the smell, Theodore suspected it was honeysuckle. Harriet tucked the flower into her hair and turned to face him, striking a pose as though he were a portrait artist and she his subject.
“What do you think?” she asked.
“Stunning.” There were a hundred more words that sprang to mind, and Theodore was sure that if they were in daylight he would have seen the familiar flush creep across her cheeks and neck. Even the tips of her ears turn pink when she is flustered. “You are in a good mood.”
“I am.” Harriet was swaying slightly as though to music only she could hear. “This has been a lovely evening.”
“It has.” I do not want it to end. He ran a hand through his hair absently.
“I have been thinking… About when we return to Irondale… I want us to spend time together, all of us as a family. You and me and Phoebe. I want to have picnics and play games and walk through the woods together. I want us to go on rides, and all sorts of things.” She paused, biting her lip, her eyes searching his face.
“We could teach her how to swim perhaps, make a swing to hang from the old oak tree. I have always wanted to build a tree house or something. What do you think?”
He could hear the nerves beneath her eager confidence. See it in the way she was repeatedly running the stray lock of hair through her fingertips.
A part of him told him that this would only lead to pain and chaos. That what she was asking was dangerous. Are you a man? Before he could push his father’s voice from his head, he heard Harriet’s in his mind. She has a family. She has me and she has you.
Family. She was asking for them to act like a family. Her smile faltered somewhat and he found himself saying. “Of course. It is a wonderful idea.”
He smiled at her, his mouth open to continue, but before he could, she exclaimed, “Oh, thank you.” And threw her arms around him, pressing her lips against his. Instinct took over, and Theodore returned the kiss, his arms snaking around her waist, steadying her against him.
The world around them disappeared. The softness of her lips reflected the softness of their kiss. It was as gentle as the night air around them. He did not want to claim her, he wanted to be with her.
The warmth of her body against his sent the beast within into a satisfied prowl. His heart beat a steady waltz against his chest and he felt hers beating in time with his. He felt as though gossamer strings tied them together, the breeze gently caressing their faces.
The sound of footsteps burst through the fragile moment, and they sprang apart. Theodore’s smile was so broad it made his cheeks ache. He felt like a schoolboy, and Harriet’s grin was much the same.
He moved, wanting to offer his arm again but stopped, his smile fading but not completely disappearing. A powerful urge to kiss her again overtook him and he pushed it away. What am I thinking?
Anyone could have seen them, could have jumped to… incorrect conclusions. The ton needed gossip like it needed air. He swallowed, turning away from Harriet.
“Would you like to keep walking?” He felt her move closer behind him, and shifted away from her touch. “Or shall we dance?”
“The fresh air will do us good.” He gestured around them. “A walk would be my preference.”
“Very well then.” He turned to see her reach towards him, but before she could take his arm, he clasped his hands behind his back.
It was too dangerous to do anything else, but he was too weak to deny her completely. What am I becoming?