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Some people still stared at them curiously, perhaps those who were not abreast of the news. A couple of Richard’s old acquaintances bowed their heads in greeting, but a vast majority were pointedly avoiding eye contact with them.

The season hadn’t fully started yet. Most people present were early arrivals to the scene or the old crones who stayed in London year-round. So it wasn’t surprising to Richard that nobody actually stepped up to greet the ruined family, except for his brothers, who met them at the base of the stairs.

Perhaps his siblings were right. They should have waited for more of their friends to return to London. At least it would have made Jo feel less awkward and out of place. She probably already dreaded joining the London scene, even before the scandal. And now?

Well, now all they could do was embrace their surroundings and enjoy others’ discomfort.

“Now what?” Vane muttered under his breath. He didn’t look perturbed, just curious, perhaps even bored.

Jo looked up at Richard with a pleading gaze. “Can we just go home now?”

Richard took her hand and pressed her knuckles against his lips. “How about a dance instead?”

Jo hesitated.

“I rather like this idea,” Ashbury said and then winked toward Sam. “Would you honor me with this dance?”

Sam giggled and placed her hand in his, and then the couple joined the others on the dance floor.

Lord Vane offered a hand to Isabel and the latter smiled widely. “Absolutely.”

Richard turned toward Jo and raised his brow. “Well? Would you do me the honor?”

Jo hesitated. “We are just making things worse. I never wanted this for you… I never wanted you to sacrifice your standing in society for me.”

Richard took her arm and weaved it with his before moving toward the dance floor. “My hope for us, Jo, is that one day you stop looking at our union as a sacrifice from my side. My hope is that you stop being shocked when I stand beside you, no matter what. And that you stop even contemplating that I’d be better off without you. My hope for us, Jo, is that you know beyond the shadow of a doubt that I will always, always be your fortress.”

He stopped and turned toward her, and they started dancing.

“I know that, but—”

“Do you?” Their gazes held, not noticing anything around them except for each other. “Because I feel that you don’t. I feel your uncertainty and doubt. And I know that I am the one to blame. Even though you married me, I have a feeling that you have not forgiven me for my atrocious behavior at the house party and a few weeks after. Nor should you.”

Jo swallowed, following the steps of the dance, and staring right at him with her vulnerable gaze. “That sting of betrayal and rejection doesn’t fade easily, but neither do the feelings you had. And still, I have forgiven you. And still, I do not want to cause you pain.”

Richard twirled her around, for the first time noticing the thinning crowd on the dance floor. Then he met her gaze again, and he forgot his surroundings. “You are right. I haven’t changed and neither have my feelings. I just finally understand what those feelings mean.”

“What do they mean?”

The music stopped and complete silence followed. No, the dance hasn’t ended yet. But the hostess had probably asked for the orchestra to cease playing. Probably because of Richard and Jo.

Richard didn’t care. He looked deeply into the eyes of his wife, then pulled her close to his chest. “That I love you. And I am not afraid of that love anymore.”

He lowered his head and kissed her gently. The kind of kiss he’d never bestowed on anyone. The kind of kiss that he hoped communicated his worship of her.

Gasps and outraged whispers followed.

Richard raised his head and said loudly, “This function is rather boring, my darling. How about we continue this at home?”

Jo giggled happily, then placed her hand in his, and together they rushed out of the ballroom, leaving the scandalized guests to their outrage.

Chapter 26

Prior to getting married, Jo had no idea that the most difficult part of her day would be leaving her warm bed—and even warmer husband—in the early mornings.

Usually, she rushed to her work before the break of dawn, because she loved acting. She might not have loved everything about the theater, but the idea of playing on stage lured her. That was her life’s passion.

Now her life’s passion lay cozily in bed, snoring softly, and silently imploring her to cuddle up beside him. His breathing was even, his features relaxed, his hair covered one side of his face. She couldn’t help but reach out and brush his hair back with her fingers. He didn’t even twitch in reaction. The lucky rogue. In his relaxed state, his lips—which usually were pressed into a thin line during the day—looked plump and inviting. His thick lashes threw a shadow over his cheeks.