CHAPTER NINETEEN
"We can always return home. I believe I could elevate the evening's enjoyment beyond your wildest imagination, even surpassing the allure of the finest musicians," Victor whispered mischievously to his wife as they stood in a queue, awaiting the butler's introduction at the prestigious Parkington ball.
To other guests, they were the picture of shining nobility, but appearances were deceiving since a certain duke was whispering filthy innuendos in his wife's ears.
"Do behave yourself, Your Grace. Let us remember we are at a public ball," she said, fighting to keep up her gracious smile and pretending that her charming husband was not trying to seduce her with his words at the entrance of a bustling ballroom.
"At this rate, we might dispel one rumor for another one of the salacious kind," she warned.
"What will they say?" Victor said, lifting his head away from her ear. "That the Duke of Ravenmoor looked fit to devour his wife in the middle of a ball, but that would be the truth, wouldn't it? I am not averse to returning to our carriage to bring what we had commenced there to its natural conclusion."
Alice could feel her cheeks warming with a blush as she remembered just what they had been doing in the carriage before they halted in front of the Parkington castle.
In the last three months since her near-death experience, which had forced her husband to profess the full weight of his feelings for her, It was like the wall that surrounded his heart not only collapsed but its pieces were ground to dust and scattered in the wind. He showed every day how much he adored and loved her both emotionally.
"The Duke and Duchess of Ravenmoor," the butler finally announced them, his voice booming across the room. Victor took her arm leading her into the ballroom.
Walking into society on the arm of the handsome duke that was her husband, she lifted her chin, confident that while they might have coveted her title, they had never stood a chance of acquiring it. The man beside her was devoted to her in a way that silenced even her deepest insecurities.
As they walked, the guests moved away, clearing a path. A single male emerged from the crowd.
"Your Grace," he greeted with a deep bow, raising one of her hands to his lips to press a kiss to it.
"Victor did not do your beauty justice the times we spoke," he added, an easy smile gracing his lips.
By the way, he addressed Victor, she could only guess that he was a close acquaintance of his, and the only one she could think of was Andrew Haskett, the Duke of Hargrave. She was proven right when Victor made the introductions.
"Andrew as you may have assumed, this is my wife the Duchess of Ravenmoor and please do let go of her hand," he said, pulling Alice's hand out of his friend's grasp, eliciting a chuckle from the other man.
"My love," Victor continued, turning to face Alice. "This scoundrel here happens to be my friend Andrew, the Duke of Hargrave."
"Good evening, Your Grace," Alice greeted, lowering herself into a curtesy.
"No need to stand on ceremony on my account, Your Grace. I must commend your courage. Any woman who braved the den of the gloomy Duke of Ravenmoor and emerged unscathed should be celebrated.
"You are doing a great service to humanity keeping him agreeable. My poor ribs have gotten some time to heal sinceyour beloved duke has not come to pummel me in the guise of sparing. He is a barbarian, I tell you. Feel free to come complain to me when he becomes a bear again, I promise to curse his guts with you," he said, a charming grin on his face.
Victor released a low growl of disapproval that ought to scare lesser men away, but it spoke of their relationship that he showed no outward reaction to the subtle warning.
"It was my honor to make your acquaintance, Your Grace," he said, pressing a kiss to her gloved hands. He winked at her, eliciting a surprised laugh from her.
Victor growled even louder, and this time, Andrew bowed to her and left. That one was a charmer. A total opposite to the brooding personality of his friend.
"Your friend is interesting," she said to Victor, looking at Andrew's retreating back.
"Pay him no mind. He is a considerable rake, stay away from him."
"Afraid that he would charm me away from you?" she said with a teasing smile.
"Of course not. You belong to me, Alice, and no man living can take you away from me," he said with a quiet confidence filled with solid conviction.
His faith in her loyalty brought tears to her eyes, and if they hadn't been standing in the middle of a crowded ballroom, she would have kissed him.
"Alice," a feminine voice called behind her, drawing her out of her emotional moment. She hurriedly cleaned her eyes with a handkerchief. She pasted on a wide smile and turned to greet the newcomer. Her fake smile transformed into a wide, genuine one when she saw who it was.
"Cathy," she said, excitedly drawing her into a hug. When she broke the hug, she turned to Cathy's husband, who was smiling indulgently at them.
"Pardon my manners my lord. How do you do?"
