“Yes,” William said.
Lady Caldwell smiled uncertainly at being agreed with before she had finished her sentence, then moved on.
Lady Ashford found him at the edge of the dining room. She was better than he had expected—poised, calibrated, the particular manner of a woman who had decided the way forward was grace and had committed to it entirely.
“Your Grace,” she greeted. “The Duchess looks beautiful.”
“She does,” William agreed.
A pause, in which Lady Ashford appeared to weigh several possible next sentences.
“I behaved badly at dinner,” she said finally. “I wished to say so directly.”
He looked at her. She held the look without flinching, which he respected.
“Thank you. She is worth knowing, Lady Ashford. I think you would find yourself pleasantly surprised.”
“She is rather remarkable.” A pause, small and deliberate. “It would be a great shame,” she added, “if such a marriage were over before it had truly begun.” Then she inclined her head and moved on.
William stood where he was, wondering where that had come from.
CHAPTER 23
He found Cecily near the windows at the edge of the ballroom at half past ten, briefly between conversations, looking at the room with the expression she had when she was thinking about something.
“You’re enjoying yourself,” he said.
She turned. “Don’t sound so surprised.”
“I’m not surprised. I’m merely making an observation.”
“Lady Pemberton has introduced me to nine people in the last hour. Three of them were very kind. Two were curious. The rest were measuring me for something I haven’t identified yet.”
“Standard proportion,” he drawled. “For this room.”
“Is it always like this?”
“It’s particularly like this tonight.” He looked at her. “You’re doing well.”
“I know.” She gave him a cheeky grin. “I’ve been doing well since I came into the party and you went into defense mode.”
He looked at her. She looked back at him with an arched eyebrow.
“I didn’t–” he began.
“You did,” she cut him off. “It was very gratifying. I decided not to mention it.”
“And yet…”
“And yet here we are.” She turned back to the room and glanced at him sideways. “It isn’t as bad as I half expected it to be.”
He looked at her.
She was smiling, and he thought—with the helpless clarity of a thought that arrived before he could intercept it—that he would do a great deal to keep that smile on her face.
“Dance with me,” he demanded.
She turned back to him, looking surprised, as if it wasn’t expected for couples to dance at a ball. But then she quickly schooled her features into calm.
