Ganes drummed his fingers on the table. “How soon can you get Madeline and her brother to leave?”
“Within a day or two, why?”
“Let us just say, Madeline and her brother have not made it easy for the guests to ignore her desire to marry a man with a title. She has promised fifty thousand pounds as a dowry—sixty if you will have her.”
“Christ!” His mood grew grim instantly, and he raked his fingers through his hair. “After everything I told her—advised her to protect her money instead of flaunting it and spending it so carelessly. She is determined to ruin me, I think.”
“How could she? Does she have anything to hold over you, Farrington?”
He thought about it, carefully sifting through all the memories he had of them together in France. No, he had made no promises to her and had handled her with respect. She was the one who had broken trust and tried to force him into a life he did not want.
“There is nothing, Ganes.” He sighed. “But you are right about one thing, our indiscretions are finally catching up with us.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Excitement filled theair as Julia slowly walked down the stairs. She had dressed with new purpose tonight, wanting to leave her betrothed with nothing on his mind but her. Her white, muslin gown had the most delicate blue flowers embroidered across the top, accentuating the low-cut bodice that complimented her full breasts. Her hair had been swept to one side with long curls and decorated with blue and silver ribbons. The choker at her throat had pearls and sapphires to match her dress.
Willa and her mother followed behind, lending her their support—for part of Julia still wanted to run away and hide from all the changes in her life.
The duke met her at the bottom of the stairs, bowing gallantly and offering her his hand. Delight shined in his eyes as he drank her in, his smile filled with promises of more kisses and more caresses once they were alone.
Couples were already dancing in the ballroom, an exquisite space with crystal chandeliers, a highly-polished parquet floor, Greek columns, and more marble statues of nymphs and gods and goddesses. Though these figures were fully clothed! The small orchestra occupied a balcony overlooking the ballroom, and the music affected Julia almost as deeply as Alonzo’s singing did.
“Would you care to dance, Lady Julia?” he asked as they walked together.
She had never had the pleasure of dancing with her duke, and imagined he was an elegant dancer. Before she could answer, the orchestra began to play a waltz, and Alonzo swept her into his arms and into the middle of the room. Four sets of French doors were opened, letting the cool breeze in, and when she was sure she should be overly warm, she wasn’t—not from the temperature in the room anyway.
They moved as one, for Julia had always been a capable dancer and enjoyed the intimacy of the controversial waltz. If she and the duke were able to be any closer, she felt as if she would be inside of him, a part of him, and that made her close her eyes and envision what it would feel like to be his wife, his duchess.
As the last few notes were played, Alonzo’s eyes took on that hungry look again, that stony expression that represented one of two things, anger or passion.
“You must know,” he whispered near her ear, lingering on purpose and blowing ever so gently as to send a shiver up her spine. “That you are more beautiful than any of Stanhope’s stone nymphs or goddesses. If I could strip you bare and worship you right here, I would.”
She licked her lips, feeling parched. “You would worship me in front of all of these people?”
“I would make love to you as if it were the last day of my life, Julia. I want nothing more than to be inside of you.”
His words melted her insides, causing a riot between her legs, making her squirm in his arms. “You shouldn’t speak to me like that in such a public place, Your Grace.”
“No? Why not? You are to be my wife, and I bloody well want you to know what to expect on our wedding night.”
She gazed up at him, lost in his eyes, lost in the honesty of his words.
“What other reason to marry by special license? I cannot contain it much longer, Julia. I feel like a barbarian—like I could devour you in one bite.”
“Your Grace,” she said. “The music has ended and we are the only people standing in the middle of the ballroom.” Embarrassment had Julia looking in every direction to see who was watching them.
The Duke of Stanhope and his sister were smiling at them, so were other guests, but it was Madeline and her brother that made her feel uncomfortable. Miss Hershey looked like she wanted to commit murder, and Mr. Garland had his arms crossed over his chest and was shaking his head at her. She had made a spectacle of herself, and if word reached her father…
“Please,” she whispered, “let us leave the ballroom.”
“Of course.” He escorted her to a set of French doors, stopped to exchange niceties with several guests, then pulled her outside. “What is wrong?”
“They were all staring at us.”
“Yes, because they know how we feel. We cannot hide it much longer, my sweet. Love has a way of taking over your body and soul.”
Had she heard him correctly? “Love?”
