"Who?" Alethea asked, though she already knew.
"Your duke," Felicity said, lifting her chin toward Oliver. "I think, perhaps, I spent too long believing the worst of him."
"You were not alone in that," Daphne glanced between them, her smile widening. "I suppose we were all a bit cautious at first."
"He is better than I expected," Felicity continued, and when she looked at Alethea, her expression was sincere. "He is better than I was willing to see."
Alethea swallowed around the sudden tightness in her throat.
"He is," she said quietly. "I am glad you finally see him for the person that he is."
Alethea could not reply properly. How was she meant to explain all that he was? The words would fail her, surely. She only reached out and caught her sister's hand, squeezing it once before releasing her.
"Go on," Felicity murmured, giving her a knowing look. "He has been watching you for ten minutes and is trying not to seem impatient."
With a flutter of nerves she did not bother to hide, Alethea turned and made her way through the small knots of guests until she reached him. He saw her before she had taken three steps, and something in his expression eased at the sight of her.
"My love," he greeted, dipping his head with a formality she knew was mostly for show.
"Your Grace," she returned, and let the corner of her mouth curve.
The dowager took one look between them and excused herself with a sly smile. When they were alone, Oliver reached for her hand. His fingers brushed over her wrist.
"Are you enjoying yourself?" he asked.
"Yes," she said honestly. "Are you?"
"I am," he said, and she believed it. He looked around the room, his gaze lingering on Theodore and Joyce as they turned slowly across the polished dance floor. "I have not seen my brother so content since we were children."
"He seems very sure of her," Alethea said softly.
"He is," Oliver agreed, his voice low. "He told me once that he would never love anyone else the way he loves her. I thought it was nonsense at the time. But I was quite wrong."
"I am glad you see it now."
He smiled down at her, the sort of unguarded, almost boyish smile she had once thought he did not know how to give.
"You have taught me many things," he said. "In earnest, if it had not been for you, I perhaps would have never seen reason when it came to Joyce and Theodore."
Alethea blushed at the compliment. It felt greater than anything that he could say about her appearance.
"That means a great deal to me," she admitted. "But I should advise you against saying that to Theodore."
"Why?" Oliver grinned. "If anything, it would make him like you even more so than he currently does, which is already a great deal."
"Well, I would instead like him to think that it was his own doing that convinced you," Alethea said.
"Never taking any credit," Oliver shook his head, smiling. "You make even the humblest of men appear prideful."
He lifted her hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles.
"Are you two quite finished?"
The voice came from just behind them, and Alethea turned to find Theodore standing there, Joyce tucked against his side. They had just finished their dance.
"For the moment," Oliver said dryly. "How is the bride and groom to be?"
Theodore's grin was wicked.
