The visibly anxious servant took the cloak and hurried off, yet neither Henry nor Thalia moved a muscle. He gazed down at her with those shining blue eyes, his closeness robbing her of breath and nudging her heart into a frenzied percussion that hehadto be able to hear. It did not help that she could still feel the tingle where his fingertips had brushed her bare skin.
Do not be drawn in by him!
Heeding that warning, she stared back at him with what she hoped was a cooler expression, as if they were in the midst of a challenge to see who would be the first to break the quiet intensity.
In the end, it was Frances.
“Come, Thalia!” she said eagerly, grabbing hold of Thalia’s hand. “My brother is here, and I amdesperatefor the two of you to meet. I have been trying for years to acquaint you, but it has never quite worked out. He is always so busy with his endeavors and his wife and my nephew, but, for tonight at least, I shall get my wish!”
“James is here?” Henry’s voice interjected, as Thalia felt a slight pressure on the small of her back, her husband’s palm coming to rest there.
Frances grinned. “He did not believe me when I said you were coming too. I wish I had made a bet, but no matter; I can just gloat that I was right instead.”
“Well, dear husband,” Thalia whispered dryly, uncertain of whether or not she should ask him to withdraw his hand, “it would appear that tonight is going to be something of a family reunion.”
She had meant it in jest, but Henry did not seem amused at all as Frances led the way to the ballroom… and Henry’s hand remained on the small of Thalia’s back, edging toward the curve of her waist. A support that she had not known she needed, especially as they stepped into the ballroom, and the whispers began.
CHAPTER 17
How many occasions have I missed to see my wife looking like this?
When Henry had removed Thalia’s cloak to reveal her evening gown, he was certain he had heard a collective gasp from the other guests milling about the entrance hall, and had barely stifled a soft, surprised one of his own. Of course, he knew his wife was beautiful. She was, and likely always would be, the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, but tonight she had risen above the notion of everyday beauty, soaring to ethereal heights.
And she is mine,quiet pride whispered in Henry’s mind. Hastily, he focused on the crowd in the ballroom in a vain attempt to squash the thought. But with his hand still resting on the small of his wife’s back, standing so close to her side, it was not such an easy task.
“Everyone is staring,” Thalia said quietly, her voice tight with nerves.
Henry did not know if she was talking to him or not, or Frances perhaps, but he could not stop the sudden compulsion to ease her discomfort.
Leaning in, his lips close to her ear, he whispered, “They are staring because that gown becomes you very well, and because you are a duchess.” He paused. “Follow my lead and keep your head high.”
She turned her head suddenly, as though his voice had surprised her.
For a moment, they were so very close indeed, close enough that a slight movement of his head would have brought his lips to hers. He had not expected her to turn like that, his gaze flitting subconsciously to her mouth… while her eyes widened slightly, her chest quickening its steady rise and fall.
Well done, you fool; you have made her even more nervous.
He cleared his throat and returned to his full height, his heart beating a little harder than he was accustomed to. “Ah, there he is,” he said, almost relieved to see his cousin James amidst the crowd. “This way, Duchess.”
With his hand still resting on the small of Thalia’s back, though he told himself it was solely to guide her in the right direction, he led her onward… and tried exceedingly hard not to think about how close he had come to kissing her. Accidentally, of course.
“Cousin! What a rare treat this is,” James Brooks crowed, sticking out his hand in greeting. “I confess, I thought my sister was jesting when she said you would be in attendance, but here you are.”
Henry took the man’s hand, shaking it. “It has been a long time, Cousin.” Awkwardness stiffened his posture, his mind blank. “Are you… well? You are still at Weverton, are you not?”
“I am very well,” James replied. “And yes, Weverton. I swear, that manor shall be the end of me. I would ask you to visit, but I have been asking you that for years and you have yet to accept.”
“Apologies,” was all Henry could think to say.
It was not that he did not like his cousins. He had no quarrel with them or distaste toward them. Indeed, he and James had been as close as brothers when they were at school together, but then duty had called for them both, and life had somewhat cast them in their own directions. Now, it was unusual if they saw one another more than once a year.
James smiled. “Nonsense. I know you are a terribly busy man, but you reallymustvisit one day.” He turned his attention toward Thalia. “The invitation extends to you, of course, Your Grace. My sister is always visiting you, yet you never come to us. I almost feel as if I have offended you in some way.”
“Oh…” Thalia tensed at Henry’s side; his palm feeling the discomfort straightening her spine.
But Frances swooped in to the rescue, as if she were aware of Thalia’s affliction. “You know very well why that is, James. Do not tease her so.” She rolled her eyes. “The moment you see fit to get the ceiling fixed in the drawing room and get rid of Mr. Wilcox, I shall invite mydear Thalia to call upon me.”
Henry eyed Frances discreetly, unable to decide if she might know something after all, or if she was merely seizing the opportunity to chide her brother. He did not think Thalia had revealed the truth, but he would listen closely for the rest of the evening, to be certain one way or the other.
