“I—” she stammered, caught off guard. She could see the way his jaw clenched slightly, a subtle sign of his frustration, perhaps at her hesitation. “But Your Grace, you should be dancing withMiss Kingman,” she protested, her voice trembling slightly. “This is what everyone expects.”
He raised an eyebrow, annoyance flickering in his deep-set eyes. “I have exhausted already the respectable amount of dance sessions with Miss Kingman for the evening,” he replied, a frown tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Surely, you can’t deny me this one dance, can you?”
Cecilia opened her mouth to argue once more, but he interrupted her, his tone turning slightly more serious. “Isn’t it best to give Nathaniel and Evie some space to converse? They are, after all, betrothed.”
She felt her resolve crumble under the weight of his reasoning. There was no way to refute him without sounding foolish. As she stared at Alistair’s hand, an internal battle raged within her. She wanted to take it, to feel the warmth of his touch, yet a sense of trepidation held her back.
What would this dance lead to?
What is he planning?
With a deep breath, she nodded, her heart pounding as she placed her hand in his. The moment their fingers intertwined, a spark ignited between them, sending a rush of warmth through her. Alistair’s grip was firm, yet gentle, guiding her toward the dance floor as the music began to swell around them.
As they moved into the rhythm, His presence was overwhelming. He towered over, the navy suit he wore hugging his broad shoulders perfectly, accentuating his athletic build. Cecilia felt small beside him, yet oddly protected.
“You’re a captivating dancer,” he murmured, his voice low, almost a whisper. She could feel his breath against her ear, and it sent shivers down her spine.
“I—thank you,” she stammered, trying to focus on the steps rather than the way a sudden compliment from him sent jolts through her system.
Alistair’s eyes darkened as he studied her, a flicker of something unspoken passing between them. “You know, I’ve been confused why you’ve been keeping yourself so distant from me,” he said, another hint of what oddly sounded like jealousy creeping into his tone.
Cecilia’s breath caught in her throat. “I’m not distant,” she replied, though the words felt hollow. She believed he could never harbor any true affection for her.
As they twirled across the floor, the tension between them grew thicker, and panic fluttered in her chest. The music swelled, wrapping around them like a cocoon, but all she could think about was the undeniable chemistry that crackled in the air, leaving her breathless.
Alistair’s hand rested firmly on the small of her back, guiding her with a confidence that made her heart race. She felt theheat radiating from him, a stark contrast to the coolness of the evening air.
“Do you truly believe that?” he asked suddenly, his voice low, as they began to sway to the music. “That you need to know a man before considering marriage?”
Cecilia met his gaze, and the intensity of his expression sent a shiver down her spine. “I do,” she replied, her voice steady despite the chaos inside her. “It’s important to understand one another.”
Alistair’s eyes darkened slightly, and for a fleeting moment, she wondered if he was grappling with his own feelings. But as quickly as the thought surfaced, she dismissed it. He couldn’t possibly feel anything for her.
She felt his fingers splayed as they moved, if he were tracing the delicate contours of her body. Her heart raced wildly in her chest, a frantic drumbeat that echoed the rhythm of the music.
Cecilia’s breath hitched as she met his gaze once more, those deep eyes holding a tempest of emotions that set her aflame. The way he looked at her was intoxicating, as if he could see into the very depths of her soul. She felt alive, every nerve ending tingling as his fingers brushed against her bare arm, igniting a fire that coursed through her veins.
Alistair leaned in, his breath warm against her ear, sending shivers down her spine. “Are you really going to marry LordHarrington?” his voice cut through the music, sharp and unexpected.
Cecilia froze, her heart pounding as surprise washed over her. The warmth of their dance suddenly felt cold.
“I doubt that’s any of your business, Your Grace,” she replied, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. She pulled away slightly, creating space between them as she tried to regain her composure. The softness in his eyes turned into a storm, and she could see the hurt behind his bold façade.
“Is it not?” he challenged, stepping forward, closing the gap. “You’re about to tie yourself to a any man. How can you even consider it?”
Cecilia’s breath quickened, her pulse racing with anger and confusion. “You don’t understand anything about me or my life! You don’t get to judge my choices.” She scoffed, “And nothing has been finalized yet. I do not need your opinion,” she retorted, her voice trembling slightly.
Alistair’s grip tightened around her waist, his fingers digging into her skin as if anchoring himself to her. Cecilia gasped at the sudden tightened grip. “You shall have it and be glad for it, Miss Everton.”
“Why do you seem so irritated, Your Grace?” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the soft strains of the waltz. Alistair’s jaw clenched, and his eyes darkened with frustration.
“Because you’re pretending this is all fine,” he shot back, his tone low but fierce. “You need to get married at some point, and this is all clear. However, you can’t dance through life and make unplanned decisions.”
Cecilia’s heart raced, and she fought to keep her voice steady. “I believe it is my life, Your Grace. I just don’t see why I have to follow the path everyone expects of me.” She glanced around, her gaze darting to the other couples swirling gracefully, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing between them.
Alistair stepped closer, his breath warm against her cheek. “You can’t keep avoiding the truth. You’ll end up trapped in a life you didn’t choose.”
“Trapped?” she echoed, her voice rising slightly. “I have dreams. I want to be an author. As I’ve said, marriage would only hold me back anyway.”
