He smiled in that gentle, charming manner. “I never fully appreciated what I had until you came along. You showed me that being a duke is important, and that I can use the power of my title to help others. I’m no longer an agent at Whitehall. I plan to take my seat in the House of Lords more seriously and use my influence toward the greater good, starting with fighting for the rights of women with abusive husbands. Perhaps someday, we can make a difference. Together.”
Lyra felt silent tears roll down her face. She threw her arms around him and held him tight. “I think I’d like that, Your Grace.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Valentine’s Day— 1820
Thorn Hall
The ballroom instantly quieted at the arrival of one particular couple.
The annual Christmas ball had been postponed in order to celebrate the nuptials of the duke’s sister to Sir Bowly. From local villagers, to gentry, and more than a few Londoners who were looking for the lateston dit,the evening was promising to be a rather entertaining one.
While some of the onlookers fluttered their fans in an attempt to be circumspect, others blatantly stared in open-mouthed shock as their host and hostess descended the stairs to open the evening with the first waltz.
Naturally, Alister, the Duke of Not-So-Albright, and his recently widowed bride, the former, Lady Weston, who had originally been brought up on murder charges regarding her former husband, had been the subject of close scrutiny in thetonfor quite some time. Rumors of their scandalous liaison, which resulted in a rushed elopement to Gretna Green, might have been the fodder for malicious gossip, if it wasn’t for one small detail.
They were head-over-heels in love.
Anyone with eyes in their head could see that as the duke swept his wife into his arms. His charming grin showcased a rather charming pair of dimples that was rather unexpected, as was the fact he was a relatively smooth dancer. For any member of society who had observed the duke in previous months would have claimed that he was nothing more than a simpleton, and a two-left-feet one at that. But tonight, dressed in a perfectly tailored black and white with a ruby red waistcoat, he was a most impressive sight. One might even call him undeniably handsome.
Then again, his wife was equally elegant in a bold red gown that hugged every soft curve and highlighted her blonde hair, and perhaps the slightly larger curve in her stomach? But truly, it was the sparkle in her brown eyes that was reserved solely for her husband that her true beauty shone like the sun.
They truly made a striking pair, and if it wasn’t for the fact that the guests of honor were a newlywed couple, then they would have certainly outshone all the others present.
But then, one might have also taken notice of Lord and Lady Eversleigh, and Lord and Lady Rockford as well, who glowed with a happiness all their own. Even if it was on the slightly shocking side of things that the viscountess would dare make a blatant public appearance when she was also starting to showcase a rather telling bump in her midsection.
At a decided private moment, the three gentlemen wandered off to a corner by themselves. “I do believe we are all the subject of observation this evening,” Roarke drawled as he took a sip of his wine.
“Since when are we not?” Orion Ashcroft rolled his eyes, though they warmed decidedly when they lit on his wife, who was chatting animatedly with Mara and Lyra.
“Speaking of which,” Roarke turned to Alister. “I’m surprised the marquess isn’t here tonight, along with his cousin. I was given the impression that Talon is recovered, and I must say Drayven doesn’t usually miss such important events where a plethora of ladies are involved.”
Alister nodded, dragging his own gaze away from Lyra. “Talon is doing very well, but I understand he was detained by a crucial case. As far as Drayven goes…” He shrugged. “There’s no telling what sort of mischief he has gotten himself into.”
Euphemia gestured to Alister, and he excused himself from Rion and Roarke. A smile graced his lips. While his sister had eschewed her purple turban for the evening, her dress was still a rather hideous shade of puce. However, the sparkle in her eyes made up for any poor fashion sense, and it was that happiness he focused on.
“I wanted to thank you for holding such a lovely ball for Henry and me. I only hope that it wasn’t too much trouble.”
“Lyra is the one to be commended for such a grand turnout. You should know that I’ve never been that fond of such large crowds.”
She waved her hand. “Oh, don’t be such a stick, Ali.”
He knew she had called him by his hated childhood nickname on purpose, but he merely shook his head and addressed his new brother-in-law, who walked up to them at that moment. “I hope you know what you’ve gotten yourself into, Henry.”
Sir Bowly merely chuckled. “I’ve found Euphemia’s bark to be much worse than her bite.”
Alister was shocked when Euphemia’s mouth actually pursed into a pout. For as long as he’d known her, she had never struck him as the flirtatious type. “But I thought you liked my little—”
Alister quickly threw up his hands. “I do believe that’s my cue to exit stage right.”
* * *
“Thisis the reason Alister left London?” Mara gestured around the library with a wide-eyed appreciation. “He must have worked day and night to complete this in only three days!”
“Indeed,” Athena Ashcroft murmured. “I have to say I’m quite impressed. He must love you a great deal.”
“Likely as much as I love him,” Lyra replied with a telling blush.
