Sebastian’s eyebrows rose. “Is that the only reason?”
“It is,” Edward said, perhaps a bit too quickly.
Sebastian hummed, skeptical in a way that infuriated him. “Of course.”
Edward turned slightly, angling his body so Sebastian’s view of Beatrice was partially blocked. He wasn’t entirely certain why he had done it, and that also irritated him.
He looked away, his jaw tightening. “I simply want to make sure she is all right.”
That part, at least, was true.
What he did not say—what he would not allow himself to think too deeply about—was how she looked tonight. How the silk of her gown caught the light when she moved, or how her cheekswarmed when she felt his gaze, or how impossibly, maddeningly beautiful she was.
“Mm,” Sebastian murmured. “Just vigilance, then.”
Edward schooled his features into calm. “Precisely.”
“And the hand on her waist?”
“It was instinct.”
“One you have never displayed toward any woman as long as I have known you,” Sebastian said mildly. “Not even the ones you liked.”
“I did not?—”
“You did,” Sebastian cut in. “Without thinking. Without hesitating. You put your hand on her waist as though it were the most natural thing in the world.”
Edward shot him a cold look. “If you have nothing productive to contribute?—”
Sebastian laughed softly. “Very well, I’ll refrain from commenting on your heroic defense of your wife’s personal space.”
Edward exhaled through his nose. “Thank you.”
A beat passed.
Sebastian leaned closer. “You know,” he added, “most men stop noticing once the vows are said. You seem to have just started.”
Edward did not answer. He glanced back toward Beatrice instead.
She was smiling at something Margaret said, the tiniest curve of her lips softening all the tension he had carried since stepping into the ballroom. For a moment, he forgot the whispers. The stares. The scandal. Everything.
Sebastian observed him with a knowing smirk.
“What?” Edward hissed.
“Nothing,” Sebastian replied. Which, coming from him, meantquite a bit. “I expected you to bring the ladies champagne. Both of them.”
“Beatrice prefers lemonade this late in the evening.”
“Oh?” Sebastian drawled. “How thoughtful of you.”
Edward ignored him and handed a glass of champagne. “Take this to Margaret before she expires.”
“She’ll faint with delight that you know her best friend’s drink preferences.”
“Go,” Edward said sharply.
Sebastian laughed, before braving the crowd, leaving him to follow with the remaining glasses.
