Why not take the risk? Why not see where things went? And why not put himself out there for the first time in his life? At the very least, he could try for a damn change.
I can at least pretend that I want to be happy… for me… for Hugh… to show my father that he has not beaten me.
Images of his father, memories of his childhood, filtered through his mind’s eye but he pushed them down. For too long he had allowed his father to control him, even from beyond the grave, and to do so for any longer would be to allow his father to win. That, he could not allow.
The fire inside of him burned all the more fiercely, and Alistair let it swell through him. He let it take him like he never had. The fear left him. The doubt fled. And all that was left was a sense of resolve to do what he knew that he must.
“Excuse me, Lady Emily…” He handed her his empty glass of wine. “But I am needed elsewhere.”
She took the glass with a smile. “I sure hope that you are.”
With that, Alistair took a deep breath, calmed his beating heart, and started across the ballroom. People watched as he went, heads twisted, whispers started, and he did not care. For once, he paid them no mind.
For once, Alistair thought of his own happiness and what he wanted in this life. That was what mattered, and that was why this was right.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
“Iblame myself,” Carrowell said as he helped Yvette limp across the ballroom. Their destination was the back corner where a row of benches was set. “I have a habit of getting carried away.”
“I should take at least some of the blame.” Yvette winced as her twisted ankle came down on the marble floor. “I was the one who fell.”
“But it was I who allowed you to.” Carrowell’s arm was wrapped around her waist, and he took most of her weight. “Lucky that it is only a sprained ankle and not a twisted neck.”
She snorted. “I doubt that was an option.”
“I bet you never knew how dangerous these balls could be,” he joked as he continued to help her walk. “It’s all fun and games, isn’t it? Until someone is hurt.”
“My pride is what hurts the most,” she grimaced. “I do hope that nobody noticed.”
Yvette’s dance with Carrowell had been going so well, too. For the first time all evening, she was able to relax and enjoy herself. Carrowell was a rather fun time; he did not mind making a fool of himself or what people thought, and his sole purpose in life seemed to be to make others laugh.
In hindsight, Yvette had gotten carried away. She was having so much fun that she stopped paying attention, which saw her slip just enough to twist her ankle.
It might have been worse had Carrowell not caught her. If he had not done so, no doubt Yvette would have gone down in a heap, and that would have been a true embarrassment. She could never have shown her face again!
With the dance over, she was determined to hide away, hopefully fade into the background so that nobody would know what happened.
“Here we are…” They reached the benches, and Carrowell helped her to sit.
She winced as she did so, keeping her swollen ankle up because it throbbed when it came anywhere near the ground. “Might you find His Grace for me?” she asked. “I don’t want him thinking that we ran off.”
Carrowell grinned. “Why not? Let us start a rumor together, aye?” She looked at him flatly, and he grimaced. “Jokes, jokes, Miss Norleigh. You sit tight and I will…” He trailed off as he looked through the crowd.
“What? You will what?” She followed Carrowell’s gaze and saw immediately what had silenced him.
It was the Duke, coming right for them. What was more, the urgency of his stride and the hard look on his face made it appear as if he was furious. Yvette could not imagine why he might be… until she saw Carrowell withdraw beside her.
“Carrowell!” Alistair snapped as he came near. “What is the meaning of this?”
“Ah, Alistair…” Carrowell was on his feet, holding his hands out as if in surrender. “I swear, it is not as it looks.”
“And how does it look?”
“She slipped while we were dancing,” he explained. “I was merely carrying her someplace that she might rest her ankle.”
“She…” The Duke started with apparent confusion, even balked as the anger on his face vanished. His frown deepened when he looked from Carrowell to Yvette, a sense of realization slowly setting in, and then he saw her ankle. “You’re hurt!”
It was one of the stranger reactions that Yvette could have imagined.
