The greatest proof was that tonight, he didn’t.
And that changed everything.
Chapter Seventeen
The sunlight in London had the audacity to be cheerful.
It spilled through Celine’s curtains in bright, buttery waves, warm against her skin despite the cold December morning. She lay awake long before Sally entered—awake enough to know sleep had abandoned her entirely.
Her body still remembered the heat of Elias’s hands.
Her lips still tingled from the kiss on the terrace.
Her heart still thrummed with the strange, reverent restraint of the night before.
If she closed her eyes, she could still feel the moment at her door, the weight of his forehead against hers, the quiet agony in his voice when he said—
It’s too important to spend tonight.
She had expected hunger.
She had expected eagerness, perhaps even impatience.
She had not expected reverence.
She had not expected to feel cherished, rather than simply wanted.
A soft knock sounded.
“My lady?” Sally entered, her expression somewhere between scandalised delight and worried fascination. Shecarried a folded newspaper as if it were a fragile relic—or an explosive.
“It is The Morning Gazette,” she said carefully. “You… may wish to see it.”
Celine sat up. “Oh dear.”
“Indeed, my lady,” Sally agreed as she handed over the paper.
SENSATION AT THE WINTER SOLSTICE BALL
Five Dances, A Disappearance to the Terrace, And the Beast of Berkeley Square Tamed at Last
Celine stared. Her stomach dipped and warmed at once.
“Oh,” she breathed. “Oh dear.”
Sally nodded gravely. “They printed a full column, my lady.”
Celine’s pulse flickered. “A… full column?”
“Two,” Sally corrected. “Shall I… read it aloud?”
Celine rubbed her temples. “I suppose you must.”
Sally unfolded the paper importantly.
“Last night’s Winter Solstice Ball, hosted by Their Graces of Haverford, witnessed a spectacle the ton shall be recounting for a decade. The Duke of Rothwest—long feared, long pitied, longconsidered untouchable—astonished all present by dancing not once, not twice, but four times with his lady wife.”
“Their united display caused such murmurs that the orchestra faltered—twice. Observers report that the pair moved as though no one else existed, their every step dripping with ardent devotion.”
