“Ignore them,” Thomas breathed.
Madeleine smiled up at him. “I’m not worried about them at all.”
She was beaming, and he didn’t think he had ever felt prouder of anyone in all his life.
“Dance with me?” he asked.
She nodded. “I’d love to.”
He heard the whispers as he took her hand and led her onto the floor. As he pulled her into his arms, he heard the whispers from the people standing around them, but it was as if the sound was just the wind through a crack in the wall. It didn’t feel like something that had anything to do with him. It couldn’t touch him.
And to judge by the smile on Madeleine’s face—which looked as real and genuine as any he had ever seen there—she was feeling exactly the same way he was.
They began to dance. Slowly, the people around them resumed their own dancing, though Thomas was aware of the fact that heads continued to turn in their direction. Everyone wanted to see what they were doing, what they were wearing, how happy they were—or whether they were miserable in each other’s company. Thomas was sure plenty of people wanted to see that, just as there were likely plenty who wanted a good look at the cursed lady and the scar she bore.
They were going to be disappointed. There was no unhappiness between the two of them.
Then he heard a voice say, “She’s beautiful, isn’t she?”
He looked at Madeleine. Her eyes were shining.
She’d heard it too.
CHAPTERTHIRTY-ONE
“Let’s get off the dance floor,” Madeleine said as soon as the music had stopped. She’d enjoyed her dance with Thomas very much, but she was also aware that everyone around them was stealing glances at them. She was sure the onlookers were storing up gossip for later.
Thomas didn’t question her request or try to push her to keep going. He nodded and walked off the floor, arm in arm, with her. “Shall we get drinks?”
“Drinks would be lovely.”
He led them over to a passing servant with a tray of glasses and accepted one for each of them. “You heard what that lady said, didn’t you? While we were dancing?”
“I heard it,” she said.
“I told you they thought you were beautiful.”
“To be honest with you, that’s almost as difficult,” Madeleine admitted. “I wish they simply didn’t notice me at all.”
“I’m afraid that will never be your fate,” Thomas said, smiling at her. “Not to be noticed…I can understand why such a thing might appeal to you, but I’m afraid you shine brighter than anyone else in any room you might enter. You will always be noticed.”
She flushed scarlet and sipped her drink, unsure of how she ought to respond to that.
“Have you had any nightmares this week?” he asked.
She opened her mouth to answer, to tell him that her sleep had been pleasant and undisturbed, but they were interrupted by another voice.
“Thomas?”
Madeleine turned to see Lady Deborah approaching. She recognized her at once as one of the ladies who had mocked her so viciously when she had been in town with Thomas.
She tensed. Had Lady Deborah heard what Thomas had said about her nightmares? She had been close enough to hear it. That wasn’t something she wanted anyone to know. More for them to talk about behind her back—it was the last thing she needed.
She was stunned that Lady Deborah would dare to address Thomas so casually. Especially while he was standing here with his wife beside him. It was such a forward thing to do.
But she tried not to react to it.Perhaps they’re friends,she told herself.Perhaps they’re close, or they know one another of old.It was odd, certainly, but it wasn’t her place to pass judgment.
Thomas did seem uncomfortable with the way she had addressed him, though. “Good evening,LadyDeborah,” he said as if to remind her that titles were appropriate between them.
