“What is bothering you?” Roslyn asked. “You’ve been skittish ever since you returned after the storm.” She narrowed her gaze. “Where were you, anyway? Your riding habit was very wet.”
It had been soaked but had dried enough for her to put it back on and return back to the castle. Roslyn didn’t need to know that, though. “I found shelter and waited for the rain to stop.”
Roslyn seemed to accept that. They had just finished dressing for the ball. Eden usually wore darker colors, but Roslyn had convinced her to buy a gown of pale pink. It was so pale it bordered on white. Tiny pink flowers had been embroidered into the skirts and lace of the purest white had been sewn into the bodice. It was a lovely gown, and she felt beautiful wearing it. The maid had wound her hair up into a simple chignon, but some tendrils had escaped and curled against her face.
“What did you do while I was taking shelter from the storm?” Eden asked. Roslyn had gone quiet.
“We played charades,” she said. Her attention had drifted and Eden couldn’t help wondering if she had missed something.
Roslyn wore a soft blue gown that brought out that color in her eyes. Her blonde hair was twisted into a plait and wrapped on top of her head. The curls falling down her back had been intentional, unlike Eden’s tumbled ones. “Is something bothering you?”
She didn’t answer Eden at first. Slowly, Roslyn turned her gaze toward Eden and said, “Do you believe in love?”
Mere hours ago she would have questioned its existence, much like Roslyn now did. “It does exist,” Eden said quietly. “I have witnessed it. Just look at Claudine and Lord Wyndam. Their love is so powerful you can’t escape noticing it.”
After a few moments Roslyn nodded. “But it’s rare, isn’t it?” She glanced away as if she didn’t actually expect Eden to answer her. “Not everyone is lucky enough to find what they have. Perhaps I am asking for too much.”
Eden placed her hand on Roslyn’s arm. “Do not settle. Your happiness is far too important to marry a man for the sake of having a husband. Love is something worth waiting for.”
“I doubt I’ll have love,” she said in a quiet tone. “I want a family of my own. You understand that, don’t you?”
“I do,” she said solemnly. Her son was everything to her, and the best thing to come from her marriage. “But there is no reason to take the first proposal that comes your way. This is only your first season. Do not make a decision you might come to regret.”
She nodded. “I promise I won’t.”
Eden prayed she had made Roslyn understand that she shouldn’t rush into marriage, but somehow she doubted that she’d truly listened to her. Something had happened, but she didn’t know what that could be. “Let’s go down now.” They were both ready and perhaps dancing might lighten Roslyn’s glum mood.
They descended the stairs behind a few other guests and headed toward the ballroom. Roslyn walked toward Lady Portia leaving Eden alone. She could follow her, but something told her to leave her be. She’d made a friend in Lady Portia and sometimes a lady needed a good friend. That is what she had with Claudine.
Heat spread through her back and Eden knew before she turned around who stood behind her. He towered over her and made her feel tiny. She closed her eyes and took several deep breaths. It was time to be brave. It was time to turn around and meet his gaze and accept her fate. She had to tell him the truth.
“You ran from me,” he said in her ear. “That was naughty of you, love.”
“I thought you liked it when I was naughty,” she said in a husky tone. It was outlandish what desire could make her foolish mouth spout. She’d never felt this way before. Like she had a secret. One that they shared and if anyone looked too close it would come to the light. She hadn’t wanted to fall in love, but here she was. Foolishly, wonderfully, in love with the Duke of Carrington…
“I do,” he reassured her. “But not when it sends you away from me.” He placed a hand on her waist, so lightly she almost didn’t feel it. “You’re playing wicked games, love.”
“Am I?” The sheer decadence of their byplay was enough to spread desire pooling through her. “Pray tell, Your Grace, whatever shall we do about it then?”
He chuckled softly, then slowly spun her around until her gaze met his. The heat in his eyes stole her breath. She’d never dreamed she’d meet somebody like him. One that filled her with desire and spoke to her heart... If she lost him it would devastate her. She had to fight for him, for their future, but she wasn’t certain how.
The duke’s lips twitched as he fought a smile. He held a hand out to her and said, “Dance with me.”
They had danced before, but they’d acted like virtual strangers then. He hadn’t remembered, probably still didn’t, their night together. But he would recall their afternoon in the hunting cabin during the rainstorm. Tentatively, she placed her hand in his. This dance seemed important somehow. As if her future would be decided during the waltz, and she nearly shook from the intensity of it.
Maxwell had a plan. One that he hoped would end in the conclusion he wanted. He led Eden to the floor as the first strands of the waltz filled the room. Their first dance had been strained. This one was too, but in a different way. Eden was so tense that one wrong move she’d break in his arms. He had to find a way to loosen her up, or this wasn’t going to work.
He slid his arm around her and pulled her close. Much closer than he should, but he couldn’t make himself care about the proprieties. She was going to be his wife. All he needed was her to agree and he’d make it happen. If he could, he’d have backdated their vows, so she was already his wife. In his mind, she was, but he knew that wasn’t within the scope of his power.
She flicked her gaze up to meet his. “Do you think this is wise?”
“Yes,” he said in a firm tone. “You’re mine and they’re all going to know it.”
Eden frowned. “That is presumptuous of you. I don’t recall agreeing to be yours.”
“You did,” he insisted. “When you allowed me to love you earlier today?” He leaned closer and said in her ear. “And our first time.” He waited for those words to sink in and he added, “at the masquerade.”
She stiffened at his words. “I definitely didn’t agree to be yours that night. I’m pretty sure that was only meant to be one night.”
