Page 50 of To Have & To Hold

How was it possible that a man could be so effortlessly perfect? It was as though his entire life had been dedicated to learning how to hold his power gently instead of wielding it at every possible opportunity.

Her heart gave another unexpected flutter, and her foot slipped on the stairs. She gripped the banister to steady herself, but the sudden movement caught Nathaniel’s attention.

He turned towards her fully, and she caught the subtle flex of his jaw. His pale blue eyes were fixed on her, and somehow their crystal clear hue still managed to give nothing away, even as they slowly took in every inch of her appearance.

Her gaze dropped to her gown—the way the fabric fell as she descended the stairs made her skirts look like a rippling sea of wine as she moved. The golden detailing woven into the hem and her hair had seemed entirely too much just moments ago, but now, standing here before the duke, it didn’t feel like nearly enough.

The realization settled heavily in her heart.

He had been born for this.

He belonged to a world of power, influence, and beauty; one that he maneuvered so flawlessly. The woman who stood by his side should be strong and sure enough to shoulder the weight of his title, and her own, without a single misstep—and Emilia could hardly manage a single set of stairs.

Her gaze lifted back up to his, hoping to find just a semblance of strength that she could borrow for the night, but he turned away from her as he pulled on his own crisp white gloves.

She took the final step, positioning herself in front of him, tilting her chin up high to meet his eyes. She had never been one to need other people’s praise or approval, but she suddenly found herself desperately wanting his.

She clasped her hands in front of her gently, careful to relax her shoulders so as not to wrinkle the fabric of her gown. She forced a smile.

Confidence shines brighter than beauty.

Nathaniel opened his mouth, and her heart waited in anticipation, but he closed it again silently. He cleared his throat as he offered her his arm.

“Are you ready?” He smiled, and Emilia tried to let the warmth of it soothe her injured pride.

She nodded. “As I will ever be.”

Nathaniel chuckled softly as he took her hand, tucking it into the crook of his elbow. He may not have found her beautiful or expressed his confidence in her ability to charm the Ton, but he was still kind and caring.

The feel of his arm beneath her hand, and the closeness of his far too familiar scent of spiced rum and citrus, warmed her from the inside out.

“If the evening becomes too much, let me know,” he said as they stepped out the door and into the cold evening air. Emilia felt a rare sense of irritation towards him rise up before she forced it down.

“I will be fine,” she stated.

“I know,” he turned towards her, his smile softening. “But I will gladly take any excuse to make an early exit.”

The carriage made its way around the circular drive, stopping at the bottom of the large stone stairs. As they began their descent, Nathaniel’s hold on Emilia’s arm tightened.

“Watch your step,” he said, leaning in closer. Her cheeks flushed, and she resisted the urge to pull back her arm simply to prove that she was capable of descending without misstep.

Chapter Seventeen

Nathaniel had never bribed a man. It was decidedly improper—and at times, punishable—but at the current moment, the idea was more than appealing.

He stared at the young footman standing at the entrance to the Langley’s ballroom, wondering how much the price would be for him to allow Nathaniel and Emilia to slip into the room unannounced.

He knew it was impossible to go through the entire evening unnoticed, but he hated the thought of becoming a spectacle the moment they walked through the doors. But there was no way to avoid it.

“His Grace, The Duke of Kenswick. And Her Grace, The Duchessof Kenswick.”

The footman had barely finished calling out their introduction—at a much louder volume than all those who had entered previously—but every eye in the Langley’s overly crowded ballroom was already on them.

The orchestra was still playing softly in the background, but the gentle strings were drowned out by the rise of whispers that followed Nathaniel and Emilia as they entered the room.

Nathaniel could feel the heat of every gaze beating down on them, and he was all too aware that the source of their fascination was not him, but the vision of a woman on his arm.

He tried not to look down at Emilia for he knew the moment he did, he would likely forget how to breathe, or walk, or speak—just as he had the moment she had descended the stairs. Every inch of her was a delicate and rare beauty that Nathaniel did not know existed in the harshness of real life, and he had been thoroughly stunned by her.