Caspian was on the floor, on his back, fuming from the way he gnashed his teeth and snarled. “Only my pride.”
Right behind where Caspian had fallen was a stray footstool, completely out of place, looking to have been put in the way on purpose for this exact outcome.
Indeed, no sooner was Caspian pushing himself to his feet than a young boy leaped out from around the corner. He had a toy sword in his hand, and he laughed gaily as he swung it above his head.
“You’re dead! You’re dead!” he declared as he stabbed the air. “I slew you! I win! I win!”
“Right!” Ironvale was on his son. “What did we talk about?”
His son danced out of the way of his father, laughing as he did, and sprinted down the hallway; the sword still swinging through the air. “Catch me! Catch me!” the young boy cheered.
Caspian grumbled under his breath as he pushed himself to his feet.
Thalia did her best to look concerned about her husband’s wellbeing, while trying not to laugh.
And Ironvale looked like a man who was at the end of his rope. His shoulders were slumped, his jaw was slack, and he looked desperately between husband and wife. “Again, if you happen to know the name of a decent governess, do not hesitate. At this rate, I’ll even consider an out of work jailer, if there is one handy.”
Chapter Eighteen
“You disappoint me,” Lord Benedict Hale, the Duke of Northwick laughed as he guided Thalia across the dancefloor.
“And why is that?” Thalia laughed along.
“I thought you would be a more capable dancer than this!” He pulled her body in close; one hand was placed firmly on the small of her back. “Put your body into it, Your Grace.”
“Your Grace?” Thalia cocked an eyebrow at him.
He winked. “Just being formal.”
“I would rather that you did not,” she scoffed.
“And what would the people think if they heard me being so familiar with you.” He winked playfully. “That is how rumor begins.”
“Oh, I do not think that will be a problem.”
“Why not?”
“Because…” She flashed her eyes wickedly at her brother’s friend. “No one in their right mind would ever suspect that someone like me would waste their time with someone like you. It is simply that unbelievable.”
“Are you trying to hurt me?”
“Is it working?”
“A little too easily,” Benedict laughed.
They danced closely. They danced with passion. They danced as if they owned the floor that they moved along, as if the music was written for them, as if the survival of the very world depended on this singular dance and how well it was performed.
Thalia had not meant to find herself dancing with Benedict.
When she and Caspian had agreed to attend tonights Ball, they did so under the presumption that they would spend the entire evening hanging off one another’s arms as if to separate wouldsee one of them die. They were going to be close. They were going to be loving. Dammit, they were going to prove to all those who doubted them how sound and perfect their marriage was.
They had no choice, seeing as the rumors that Lord Donmere was spreading weren’t going anywhere. For that reason, they both realized that tonight’s ball was not something they needed to go to, but something that they had to go to.
Thalia was looking forward to it.As was Caspian… even if he would never say so out loud. But I know him darn well by now, and I know how eager he was for tonight’s festivities.
The evening had started as planned. They arrived together, walking arm in arm, smiling as one, laughing at jokes, greeting friends, and existing together as if they were the happiest couple on this earth. They were no longer awkward around one another, and Caspian was no longer as stiff. It had been a natural state of being, born from the direction this marriage was slowly heading in.
When Caspian needed to retire to the washroom, however, Benedict had chosen that moment to swoop in and ask for a dance. Ordinarily, Thalia would not have said yes, but this was Benedict, a man she’d known for most of her life, so she chose not to see the harm in it.
