Ella was grimacing at him as if she already knew he wasn’t going to like it, which was accurate—he didn’t like it, but it was the duchess. He couldn’t say no.
“Of course,” he said, stepping forward. “How can I help?”
“Which dances did you already teach her?” the duchess asked. One of the servants who could play the piano came into the study.
“I don’t remember,” Dietrich said. It was the truth—any knowledge had fled his brain. The idea of dancing with Ella again, in front of her parents…that would be enough to scare anyone, much less someone who was employed by her father.
The duchess was still speaking, but he couldn’t hear her as he stared at Ella.
She was stunning, her golden hair tumbling around her shoulders in loose waves, a rich, dark green dress accentuating her form.
He wasn’t sure he would make it through this dance without falling even more in love with her.
“So we’re going to throw a ball,” the duchess finished, casting a glance at Ella, who was avoiding looking at her.
Dietrich snapped his attention back to the duchess. “A ball? That sounds fun. How long do we have to prepare?”
“About two weeks, I should think,” the duchess said, glancing at her husband.
“Yes, I think two weeks will do,” the duke agreed.
Dietrich bit back his sigh. He suddenly had a lot of work to do in the next two weeks. They would have to prepare for being overrun by horses and carriages. Depending on who the visitors were and how far away they came from, they could visit for a week or more.
He had to speak to his men, not waste time dancing with a girl he couldn’t have.
“Thank you for letting me know,” he said. “We shall begin preparations in the stables.”
“Of course, but first, we need to practice,” the duchess said, looking between the two of them. “Do you remember if you practiced the waltz?”
“We did,” Dietrich said. He didn’t want to waltz with Ella.
“Why don’t we try that once more?” the duchess announced. “I would like to see how she dances. It’s not too late to find an instructor from Riyel, if we must.”
“I don’t think you’ll need to,” Dietrich said, turning his attention to Ella, who was fidgeting in her seat, her hand buried in her pocket. “She’s quite good.”
Ella glanced up at him, and he offered her a smile.
She was clearly uncomfortable with this. Was she only worried about his reaction? Perhaps he shouldn’t have been so rude and ignored her. He hadn’t considered how it would affect her too.
Maybe it would be better for him to hurt more, if it kept her from being hurt.
Dietrich offered his hand to Ella, who shyly took it, and they made their way into the center of the room as the music began to play.
If she didn’t want to dance with him, she didn’t show it, relaxing into his arms like he’d never turned her down before. It took everything in him not to lean in and kiss her for the way she melted into him.
She was impossibly sweet—when she wasn’t shooting snapping remarks at him.
No, ignoring her had been the right thing to do.
She was a distraction, something that he needed to avoid. But here he was, holding her in his arms as they twirled around the room and she followed his lead gracefully.
It was hard to remember all the reasons he had for turning her away.
Hard to remember why his mother and John weren’t right.
Hard to remember how impossible things were for the two of them.
The moment of music and dancing would only last so long. She was meant for the life of a duchess, even if she fit into his arms like she belonged there, even if her blue eyes were looking up at him like the whole world revolved around him.
