Page 60 of To Steal a Duchess

“Do come off it, Langford,” Dorian muttered, though his friend grinned happily.

“No, no, I do believe Lady Featherly fainted at the sight of—oh, yes, yes, there she is being picked up. She ought to be snapping that fan eagerly.” He made a point of craning his neck around Dorian, and even Nancy rolled her eyes, sniggering.

“Gideon,” she sighed, slipping her hand into his elbow. “I do believe that the touring theatre called, and they wish to have their dramatics back.”

“Yes, and in less than two weeks,” Gideon replied, his voice dropping into a purr, “this dramatic man shall be your husband, and we will host readings every Friday.”

“And it could not come any sooner,” Nancy pouted. “Must we even wait the remainder of the days? The banns have already been posted, and we now have our best friends in London. Why wait?”

“Because we have sent out invitations,” Gideon reminded her. “And the priest is not due to arrive until the set day.”

Nancy playfully scrunched her nose at him, and it was nice for Dorian to see his friend acting so loving with someone. He could see it in Gideon’s eyes: he had been right to assure Eloise that Gideon would take care of Nancy.

“You will be coming to our readings, will you not, Oldcliff?” Gideon asked, giving him a mirthful smirk. “You are ever so fond of storytelling, as we saw the night of that lovely wine when we all dined together. What was it about? The wine and Captain…” He snapped his fingers, trying to remember, but it was Eloise who quietly filled in:

“Captain Vallier.”

Dorian stilled, not knowing she would have still remembered his foolish moment of passion for wine and the sea and the stories that spread across the waves regarding just about anything. He looked at her.

“Captain Vallier, and his trusted crew member whom he betrayed, Georgie Peterson.”

The heaviness of Gideon’s and Nancy’s attention on Eloise felt charged. But before Dorian could say anything, the music changed, and a slower song began to play.

Dorian, in that moment, wanted nothing more than to take Eloise in his arms. He leaned in.

“I promised you a dance,” he murmured.

“I believe I promised you one.” Her mouth lifted slightly, amused, and he took her hand.

In turn, Gideon and Nancy were already making their way to the dance floor. Dorian took Eloise onto it, too, but strayed from the center. They already had enough eyes on them, and he could feel them now, weighing heavily at his back.

It was his turn to remind himself to ignore those watchful eyes and hushed whispers as he took Eloise’s hand.

They fell into step with one another, seamlessly becoming part of the dance floor, but he knew they did not blend in. Not when his wife looked so beautiful, and not when he had such a reputation for being aloof.

“What is it?” Eloise asked, her voice still low and gentle. It was not quite the bold tone she used in Oldcliff Hall, but not the voice she put on for the ton either.

“Nothing.”

“There is something,” she insisted. “But it is not the looks, or the voices. There is that, but that would make you appear angrier, I think. You were surprised before—before we came to the dance floor. Why?”

“Because you remembered my story,” he admitted because there was no point in denying it. His wife was observant as well as persistent.

“Whyever would I not?” Eloise questioned, truly looking confused. “It was interesting, and I liked it.”

“And you researched into it,” he finished. “You took something I was interested in, and you not only recalled it, but looked into it further. That is not something I have known a lot in my life. I am used to keeping my interests close to my chest, as I imagine you are.”

His wife nodded, biting her lip gently. “It stayed with me, and I have a penchant for adventure, as you do, so I did some exploring at the village on one of my trips. I found a copy of the story you told, although part of me felt as though I’d find it in your library.”

Dorian couldn’t look away from that gentle tug of her rosebud-shaped mouth.

“You would be correct,” he answered. “And, for your interest, is why it was cruel of me to shut you out.”

They kept their voices pitched low so they weren’t overheard, but the music was loud enough. Dorian looked over her head, around them, and noticed they were still being observed. Yet he didn’t care. He had his beautiful duchess in his arms, and, for all he hated the ton events, he was enjoying seeing Eloise in such a place.

He had never had the chance before.

She glimmered beneath the dance hall lights, and Dorian wanted to spin her out quickly, to see if any of that shimmer would tumble off her dress and surround her in a silver cloud and⁠—