“You are so beautiful,” he murmured.
He meant it. She could hear it in his voice, see it in his expression, and best of all, she felt it all the way down to her toes. He made her feel beautiful.
“Then we are a pair,” she said, “because I have never seen a man look so divine.”
Black superfine coat, a snowy white cravat, and a whimsical rose waistcoat with silver threads stitched in an intricate design. Such elegance that she could not imagine a king looking more refined.
“Oh!” she gasped, just now realizing that his waistcoat matched her dress. “These are your colors!” Oh dear. “I shouldn’t be wearing them. They’re your—”
“Don’t be silly,” Susanne interrupted. “It’s just a dress. No one pays any attention to that stuff anyway.”
Her brother rolled his eyes at his sister. “Well, obviously you don’t.” He held out his hand to Giselle. “And I wouldn’t have you change for all the world. The colors suit you.”
He held her gaze as she descended the last of the staircase, and she was powerless to look away. How many times had she dreamed of just such an event? Of descending the stairs to have him there waiting for her. Of him taking her arm as he swept her into the steps of a dance. And of him undressing her in their marriage bed as they joined together as man and wife.
In one breath, all those fantasies rushed back into her. They swept her along on a tide of emotions. Longing, happiness, and desire wove through her body, stealing her breath and her sanity.
He seemed to have remembered, too. As if he were thinking of all the things they had said to one another. Of all the times he had kissed her senseless. And of all the secret plans they had once made for their children and grandchildren.
Such things they had planned until…
Until the day she’d told him she could see ghosts.
She looked away, quietly withdrawing her hand from his. He didn’t fight her. He let her fingers go, but she felt his gaze on her. Then, as the clock ticked the minutes away, he undoubtably gave up waiting for her to look at him again. Instead, she heard him bellow up the stairs.
“Mama, please! We shall barely make it before the dancing begins.”
Eventually, the countess descended the stairs. She was dressed in fine silks and an enormous headpiece. It suited her. She’d always had an excellent eye for clothing. And so Giselle said as she complimented the lady. That seemed to surprise and mollify the woman. Her grumpy demeanor softened as they climbed into the carriage. Then she grew even more animated as she and Susanne discussed everyone who would be there.
Giselle knew none of the names except by reputation. If they weren’t already in a moving carriage, she would have changed her mind right then and there.
“Did you write your friend?” Giselle asked Susanne. “Does she know I’m coming?”
“Yes and yes! You will not be turned away at the door.”
At this point, she really wished she would be.
“Never fear,” Jonathan said. “It’s just like a country dance only with taller hair and more gossip.”
She arched her brows. “Clearly, you have not been to a country dance in ages. Every word spoken is gossip of one kind or another.”
He frowned. “That’s not true. I rarely hear gossip there.”
She snorted. “That’s because most of the gossip would be about you.” He would be, after all, the highest ranked man at most dances. Certainly, the most handsome and eligible one.
He snorted. “You overestimate my consequence.”
She did not. But maybe he did. He looked embarrassed by the idea that people would gossip about him. And wasn’t that a stark contrast to his father? The late viscount preened wherever he went. She remembered him as a man who made sure everyone knew who he was, and indeed, he would feel an affront if people didn’t talk about him.
But Jonathan had never had such pride. He’d once said that people should be proud of what they’d done, not to whom they’d been born. And she had thought him amazingly enlightened. So much so that she’d kissed him for the very first time. One that he enthusiastically returned.
“You’ll save a dance for me, won’t you?” Jonathan asked. “I waltz, I think.”
“A waltz! Don’t I have to get permission to dance that?”
His brows rose. “You know about that, do you?”
Of course she did. She might not be going about in society, but she had friends who had debuted in the last few years. Friends who had shared every detail of their Seasons, including the unwritten rules of society.
