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"There are a lot of people here", she trailed off as she looked around the room. "I have to meet them all, don't I?"

Laurence nodded.

"Does the Duke know all of them?"

"Well..." Laurence smiled. "He knows of them all, yes. Whether he cares for them is an entirely different matter."

They both grinned.

"Well, you are the second guest I have met this evening, and it has been a pleasure. But if I have eighty-odd more to go, I should make a start, or I fear I shall never retire for the evening."

"Wait." Laurence raised a finger dramatically.

"Ladies often tell me it has been a pleasure. Though I rather doubt your new husband would appreciate hearing my name and pleasure from you on your wedding night, so let's keep that between us," he said with a wink.

"Second, I would be more than happy to introduce you to guests here this evening. Though I warn you, none of them shall measure up to my impressive wit nor dashing good looks."

Before he had even finished speaking, Eliza slipped her arm through his.

"I would be eternally grateful if you could, Lord Benedict."

Laurence looked down at their linked arms and smiled. Together they disappeared into the crowd as Lord Benedict began introducing the Duchess of Buckingham to guests.

Chapter 8

Arthur scanned the crowd for his bride. She had moved halfway across the ballroom from where he had left her, working her way through the crowd with Laurence faithfully at her side.

Laurence had wisely steered her towards the more agreeable guests first, and Arthur silently thanked him for it. He had sensed how nervous she was the moment they entered the ballroom. This was, by all measures, a baptism by fire. Society was rarely kind to those who were different. Arthur knew that better than most, so he was grateful the wittering idiot who had stood beside him earlier had, at last, made himself useful.

Eliza worked the room, earning enthusiastic nods from servants and guests alike who were undoubtedly captivated by either her smile or their own curiosity. As he watched, he noticed just how charming she was. Even Lady Pembroke was smiling, and he would have wagered half his fortune that the old crow did not possess the necessary temperament to conjure a smile.

He let his gaze linger freely over her now that they were some distance apart. The teal bodice suited her. He remembered the way her face had searched for him as he entered her bedchamber earlier that evening. It was clear that she had been seeking his approval; little did she know she had possessed it from the moment he laid eyes on her, yet he had deliberately withheld making that known. Not because she was unworthy, but because it had become dangerously difficult not to let his thoughts lead him astray, to succumb to fantasies of forgoing the ball altogether and instead retiring to his bedchamber to enjoy the wedding night they had yet to share. Even so, he refused to indulge such fantasies until he was certain she fully understood the true terms of their arrangement.

The Dowager appeared at Arthur's elbow with impeccable timing and her presence extinguished any pleasant train of thought regarding his bride with all the subtlety of a bucket of cold water.

"You have greeted your guests,” the Dowager said.

He nodded.

"You have thanked the orchestra,” she continued.

He nodded once more.

"You have glowered at three earls and frightened at least one bishop", she admonished.

Arthur looked down at her, exasperated.

"My point, my son..."

Her gaze drifted towards Eliza, who was laughing loudly at something Lord Benedict had said, and Arthur saw at once where the Dowager was leading him.

"...is that your wife is still waiting."

Arthur followed her gaze.

"I spoke with her not ten minutes ago,” he said defensively.

"I am not referring to conversation."