Her mother opened her mouth to answer, but Gabriel stepped purposefully between them, blocking any further remarks. Right as he did, the orchestra began playing the first song of the evening.
Sibyl instinctively looked for a spot to stand, feeling as though she were a debutante again, waiting for her mother to reject suitors on her behalf while watching the ones she wanted to dance with take other partners.
I am not that girl anymore,she reminded herself.Nor am I the wife of an earl who barely ever danced with me. Now I am the wife of a duke who will likely refuse to dance and?—
“Duchess,” Gabriel murmured, already holding out his hand. “Will you have the first dance with me?”
Sibyl’s eyes widened, despite how hard she tried to mask her surprise. She fought back a question, something foolish like,You… want to dance with me?
No, she needed to be confident, regardless of whether Gabriel wanted to dance or was simply keeping up appearances.
She slipped her hand into his and nodded. “Of course I will.”
He gave her a wry, tense smile before guiding her onto the dance floor. She was aware of eyes watching them as they took their place among other couples, and a waltz began.
“You know how to dance, no?” he asked.
“Every lady knows how to dance,” Sibyl scoffed, offended.
“Oh, not every lady, believe me.”
“That sounds like a story there.”
Gabriel guided her smoothly into the first steps before snorting. “Let us just say that it involves one of my first balls before I was even twenty years old, a lady who got too excited about free-flowing champagne, and the two left feet she possessed. It ended with my bruised toes.Verybruised toes.”
“Ouch.” Sibyl winced.
“Ouch, indeed,” Gabriel muttered. “Have you stepped on any man’s toes while dancing?”
“No, thankfully, though Alicia has. However, I am not entirely certain it was not purposeful.”
“Heavens help the suitor your mother will choose for her, then.”
“Indeed,” Sibyl sighed.
Despite their dancing skills, they moved around one another stiffly. Sibyl didn’t want to move her hands too high up his body, but she didn’t want to rest them on his biceps either, or else her thoughts would drift to uncharted territory.
She didn’t want to be too close to him and focus on his body heat, nor how it reminded her of how he had pressed against her during their kiss in the kitchen.
Every inch of her was alive, and she was so aware of herself, holding herself away from him. As for Gabriel, he seemed to be doing the same. His elbow was held at an awkward angle, his shoulders tight and rigid.
Their footsteps lacked the fluidity other couples displayed, and Sibyl mourned for that briefly, until she looked around as Gabriel spun her. The eyes on her increased the pressure in her chest, as though she were being crushed beneath a boulder.
The ton watched, but even if some admired her, most judged her, and she could not escape the stares. The back of her neck prickled with unease.
“I regret coming,” she mumbled, unable to take much more. “I was so excited at first, but now… now I am not.”
In response, Gabriel placed his hand on her waist, his fingers warm and comforting. It drew her focus away from the crowd.
“Remember what this is for,” he murmured. “This is all for your daughter’s sake. You are a duchess now. You are above every single person in this ballroom, and I will not let you forget it.”
His eyes held hers, and something twisted deeply in Sibyl’s gut as she forced herself not to look away.
Around them, the music swelled, the violin proclaiming a beautiful melody above the other instruments.
Sibyl’s breath caught. The rest of the ballroom faded away. All she saw was her husband’s brown eyes, reminding her exactly who she was in a world that had been determined to let her fade into the background, forgotten or blamed.
No, she was Sibyl. She was the Duchess of Stonehelm, and she wasseen.
