“It is beautiful, Your Grace,” she said, admiring the corsage on her arm, trying not to think of how her arm still tingled from his placing it there. “Thank you.”
His grace did not speak. Instead, he simply smiled, and Cecelia sighed as she leaned back in her seat.
The silence that filled the carriage was not nearly so awkward as she might have anticipated, and before she knew it, they arrived.
When the duke helped her down from the carriage, she felt the warmth of his touch through her glove, and her arm tingled once more.
This feeling, this way her body responded to his touch, was entirely new to her. At least, she had never felt it with anyone else.
Icantrust him,she thought as he led her into the ball, their entrance not nearly as jaw-clenching as usual, for nobody knew their identity.
Her dance card was slower to fill, though fill it did.
And before she knew it, she was swept away onto the dance floor, mesmerized by the candlelight and conversation.
All the while, she found herself glancing back over her shoulder, looking for her keen-eyed chaperone.
And just as he had been the day before, he had his eyes upon her always.
Though he was surrounded by others, by gentlemen, eager mamas, and young ladies all admiring his broad shoulders, athletic physique, and his sheer presence within the room, his eyes always met hers.
That security left Cecelia breathless. And she felt as if she had fallen into a dream, conversing with every gentleman she danced with, without a single word of it truly sinking in.
She felt as if she were in a haze, a sea of suitors taking her to the dance floor, the night moving steadily forward.
And yet, she found herself wishing it would never end.
Just when it seemed there was a lull in the evening, just as she paused to find herself refreshment, she felt a delicate hand on the small of her back for a mere second.
She dreaded who she might find beside her, not yet ready to accept another dance.
But when she turned, recognizing those brilliant blue eyes beneath his golden mask, Cecelia's heart leapt.
“My Lady, might I have your next dance?”
Cecelia's heart nearly exploded at that.
This was not their first ball, nor was it the first time he had ever asked her to dance – they had practised many an hour during their childhood – but this was different.
She hesitated.
Was this a good idea?
If she were to accept his hand, was she accepting something more?
Don't be ridiculous! It is just a dance between friends,she told herself, hopeful that was indeed what they were to each other now.
“Yes,” she said the word rather breathlessly as she placed her hand in his.
Her knees grew weak as he led her out onto the dance floor, and she gripped his hand a little tighter.
As if he sensed her nerves, he squeezed back.
And when she turned to take her position in his arms, she found him smiling.
His free hand slid into position at the small of her back, a tingle shooting up her spine.
The music began, and as if they had danced together a thousand times over recent days, they fell into perfect step.
