“Is that right?” Her laughter was stammered and awkward.
“Oh yes,” he said seriously. “On account of how handsome I am.”
She pressed her lips together in a tight smile. “Ah yes, what a curse it must be for you.”
“I have learned to live with it.” He side-eyed her and winked. She looked at him flatly, and a smile formed across her lips. Still nervous, but he could feel it lessening. “Ignore them,” he continued, sure to keep his hand on her forearm. “I find that is best.”
“I want to,” she said. “It is just… there are so many of them. And they are not exactly subtle about staring, are they?”
“They never are,” he sighed. “I was speaking truthfully just now, that they would be doing the same if I was alone. The curse of being a duke.”
“Are you trying to make me feel sorry for you?”
“Is it working?”
She laughed. “Not even a little bit.”
“Just remember…” He squeezed her arm. “I am here, and so long as I am, nothing they do or say can hurt you. They do not matter.”
“That is easy for you to say. You… you are used to this. For me, it is all rather new.”
“Perhaps that is what you should focus on? You do not know anyone here, they do not know you. So, what does it matter what they say or what they think? Likely, you will never see them again.”
“But –”
“No buts,” he cut her off. “I did not bring you here to pout in misery and be overcome by nerves.”
“Then why did you bring me here?”
He hesitated, because the answer was far from simple. There were so many reasons to give, none of which felt appropriate, and none of which he was certain of. While Alistair was starting to accept his feelings, he was still wary of them, still more than aware of their danger and how wrong they were.
“I brought you here to enjoy yourself,” he said finally. “So, you better not let me catch you doing anything other than that.”
She rolled her eyes at the answer, but he felt her relaxing further.
In many ways, Alistair wished he had prepared her better for tonight. He had been attending these events for years, and he’d forgotten how intimidating they could be. Even if he was not a duke, even if the crowds did not stare and gape, the effect would be the same.
I forget sometimes that we are of two different worlds. And while I like to pretend that makes no difference, moments like this prove the exact opposite.
The ballroom was an extravagant affair, as was to be expected. The floor was white marble, the walls were gilded in gold, thechandeliers decked in crystal, and the colors that flooded the room were as chaotic as they were beautiful. The women were dressed in vibrant gowns, the men were dressed in smart suits, even the waiters were refined and elegant, and Alistair had no doubt that Miss Norleigh had never seen such a place as this one.
They moved together through the ballroom.
Alistair had no desire to speak with anyone, and he was pleased to see that most were of the same mind. There were scores of guests spread across the ballroom, moving in couples and groups, standing in circles as they drank and ate and laughed gaily.
It was impossible to go unnoticed, and as they walked, the crowds watched on. Alistair wondered too if the reason was the presence of Miss Norleigh, even though most would not know her, just as most would assume she was a lady of some description.
There was also the very real fact that he was worthy of his own gossip, and by now the tales of his adopted son had no doubt spread throughout the ton.
How long will it take before people start to ask about Hugh? And when I tell them the lie that I have used as the basis for his adoption, how long will it take before the truth is found out and the walls around me collapse…
“Shall we have a drink?” he asked Miss Norleigh as they moved toward the back of the ballroom.
“Please,” she said with a deep sigh of relief. “Can we make it two?”
“How about three?” he joked.
“Dare I suggest four?”
