She nudged his side. “Don’t speak as though you have hated teaching me all these years.”
As though he sensed her earnestness, he took her hand between both of his and met her gaze with unusual seriousness. “Your Grace, it has been my privilege and honor all these years to help guide you.” Anna seated herself at the small pianoforte and began to play. “And now, if you please, allow me one final dance before you are whisked away forever.”
Thalia allowed herself to be led from her place, laughing as she went. “Don’t be ridiculous. It isn’t like that.”
“Of course it isn’t, my dear. But let me tell you something: a man who rescues a lady the way he has, and who looks at you as though you are a delicacy, will go out of his way to protect you.” Elliot swung her opposite him.
Other couples joined them for their impromptu country dance, and Thalia laughed, happier than she could ever remember being.
This was what she had always aspired toward—feeling as though she had found a place where she could belong. And here, with all her friends, all the people who knew her secret and accepted her just as she was, she had found her place.
“I am so grateful you are my friend,” she told Elliot.
“As always, Your Grace, you offer me far more credit than is due. I have been the means of getting you in some sorry states.” He frowned a little, looking to one side. “I ought to apologize.”
“Nonsense,” Thalia said lightly. “If you had not had some debt issues, I might never have met Maxwell, and then where would I be?”
“Maxwell?” Elliot raised his brows. “Isthatwhat you call him?”
“No teasing,” she warned.
“I would never dare tease you, Your Grace.”
“And stop calling me that. We are still friends, you know. I am the same Thalia that I have always been.”
“My dear,” he said with no little affection, “friends or not, I have always been aware of the difference of rank between us, and I’m afraid that will not change. If anything, it is now more pronounced. But that need not mean we are any less friendly.”
Before Thalia could respond, Maxwell appeared behind Elliot, standing tall enough to loom over the other man. For once, Elliot read the situation remarkably quickly and handed Thalia to him with a bow.
“Why do you not take the opportunity to dance with your wife, Your Grace?”
“Thank you.” Maxwell pulled her into his arms, though the country dances required nothing of the sort. “I will.”
“Maxwell,” she hissed, though at the possessive heat in his eyes, something in her stomach tightened in response. “You cannot lay claim to me here.”
“Why should I watch another man dance with you on our wedding day?” he demanded. “If that’s what you expect from me, then you will be sorely disappointed.”
Thalia bit back a laugh as she looked up into his face. “No,” she conceded. “That is not what I expect from you.”
“I’m losing patience with this entire event,” he said. “Remind me why it is tradition to invite all our friends and family to interrupt our first few hours as man and wife?”
“Because, I imagine, it’s typical to wish to share your happiness with the people closest to you.”
His hand found her waist, and she shivered. “I have a far better idea.”
“Oh?”
“We could leave.” He bent so he murmured the words against the shell of her ear. “Let our nearest and dearest celebrate our marriage as they choose, but without us.”
“How scandalous.”
He looked down at her steadily with that same heat in his eyes. “I want you to myself, Thalia.”
Another shiver ran through her, along with a bolt of excitement. Anticipation. Perhaps he would never have married her if it were not for her father forcing the issue, but there could be no doubting he wanted her.
That was enough.
“We could step out for a moment or two,” she managed.
