“Breathe slower,” Owen said quietly.
She realized she’d been panting slightly. “Is it that obvious?”
“Only to me.” He shifted slightly so that his knee brushed hers. “You faced down Lady Garrison in Hyde Park. This is just more of the same.”
“This is the entiretonin one room, all of them dying to dissect us.”
“Then we give them nothing to dissect. We dance, we smile, we leave.” His hand covered hers briefly. “Together.”
The footman opened the door before she could respond.
Owen descended first, then turned to help her down, offering her his hand and merely touching her gloved fingertips.
“Chin up,” he murmured. “You’re a duchess.”
They entered Lord Morrison’s ballroom, and after they were announced, she sensed the subtle but unmistakable shift in atmosphere.
Conversations paused. Heads turned. Ladies hid behind their fans to whisper.
The elusive Duke and Duchess of Carridan had finally decided to mingle again.
Iris kept her expression pleasant. Her hand rested lightly on Owen’s arm as they made their way through the crowd. She could hear the whispers following in their wake.
“… baby appeared out of nowhere…”
“… hidden away for months…”
“… she looks well enough now…”
Lord Morrison intercepted them near the dance floor. His wife glittered beside him in diamond jewelry.
“Your Graces! How wonderful to see you.” His smile was warm, but his eyes were calculating. “I am honored to have you attend my soiree, especially since Your Graces rarely favor anyone with your presence.”
“You’re too kind,” Iris murmured.
“And how is little Lady Evangeline?” Lady Morrison’s tone dripped with honey. “Such a blessing after your difficulties.”
“She’s perfect,” Owen said smoothly. “Growing stronger every day.”
“You must bring her to call soon. I so love babies.” Lady Morrison’s smile showed too many teeth. “When they’re presented, that is. Not hidden away like guilty secrets.”
Iris felt Owen tense beside her, but his expression remained neutral. “We value our privacy, as I’m sure you understand.”
“Of course. Though privacy can be so easily misinterpreted, can’t it?” Lady Morrison’s laugh tinkled like breaking glass. “Why, just the other day, someone was speculating on the child’s birth.”
“How fascinating,” Owen said coldly. “I hadn’t realized fiction had become so popular in drawing rooms.”
The orchestra struck a waltz, saving them from further barbs.
Owen turned to Iris with formal courtesy. “Would you honor me with this dance?”
She placed her hand in his, letting him lead her onto the floor. Other couples made room as all eyes followed their movement.
When his hand settled on her waist and he drew her into position, she felt like she might shatter from the scrutiny.
“I shouldn’t have come,” she whispered as they began to move.
His hand tightened on her waist. “Look at me.”
