Page 67 of A Scandal for the Beastly Earl

"We'd be delighted," she said before he could refuse.

As they took their position, Arabella caught sight of their reflection in one of the massive mirrors lining the ballroom. They looked like what they were; a newly married couple, he dark and imposing despite his scars, she smaller but no less striking in her midnight silk. But there was something else there too, something in the way they stood together, the way his hand held hers. They looked... united.

"Everyone's staring," she whispered.

"Let them."

"Easy for you to say. You're used to being stared at."

"For entirely different reasons."

"Still."

"Arabella." He turned her to face him fully, ignoring protocol that said they should be acknowledging the musicians. "Look at me."

She did.

"What do you see?"

"You," she said simply.

"And when I look at you, I see my wife. Not the scandal, not the hasty marriage, not the woman who fell..."

"Dived."

"Into a lake. I see the woman who makes me laugh, who argues with me about book organisation, who convinced my entire household to commit treason in defence of a criminal dog."

"That's not treason."

"It's definitely insurrection."

"You're trying to distract me."

"Is it working?"

"Yes."

"Good." The music swelled, and he swept her into the dance. "Because you're about to discover that I'm actually an excellent dancer when properly motivated."

He was. The Lucien who had claimed to barely remember how to waltz moved with a grace that made her feel as if she were floating. He led her through the complicated steps with confidence, spinning her at exactly the right moments, pulling her close enough to be thrilling but not quite scandalous.

"You lied," she accused breathlessly as he dipped her.

"I prevaricated."

"You said you hadn't danced since before Matilda's death."

"I said I hadn't waltzed. I've been practising other dances. With Mrs. Fielding."

"Mrs. Fielding?"

"She was quite insistent. She said it would be a tragedy if I couldn't properly dance with my bride. We've been practising in the servants' hall after you go to sleep."

"You've been sneaking off to dance with the housekeeper?"

"Don't make it sound sordid. Morrison played the pianoforte."

The image of stern Morrison at the piano while Lucien danced with Mrs. Fielding was so absurd that Arabella laughed, the sound ringing across the ballroom.