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Another wave of titters crested through the ballroom, and her gaze unerringly landed on the duke’s broad shoulders. He was beside the orchestra. He bent to say something to one of their number. The musicians nodded, and he sauntered away, bold and graceful…right toward her. Adel’s hands shook, fearing she would spill the punch she had yet to sip, she placed it on the refreshment table with a soft clink.
He stopped in front of her, and it was as if the entire room held its breath.
A few seconds later the violins sounded, and the scandalous strain of a waltz filtered on the air, shocking her. The duke bowed, then straightened and held his hand out to her. “Miss Adeline, would you honor me with a waltz?”
From the periphery of her vision she saw her stepmother wilting in relief, and even Evie smiled, her eyes filling with tears. Adel wanted to fling herself into his arms and shout for relief. His public show of support must mean that he still desired to marry her. Her sisters were saved; her family was not ruined, if she did not botch it further. She sank into a curtsy. “I would be honored, Your Grace.” Then she rose and stepped into his arms as if she belonged there.
On cue the rousing strains of the waltz filled in the ballroom. Adel was painfully aware they were the only couple dancing. It seemed the members of society who were packed into the Gladstone ballroom were now content to watch them in stunned silence.
The duke held her firmly, at a respectable distance, but there was something possessive in his embrace. Her heart tripped in her chest. As she soared with him, the dozens of eyes boring into her back faded. “Thank you for being kind after my earlier stubbornness.”
“Think nothing of it,” he reassured her, his regard piercing and intent.
“Why have you singled me out? Not that I am ungrateful,” she hastily added.
His mouth curved faintly. “You are very direct. It is a trait I admire.”
“Thank you.”
“My attentions to you now are a double edge sword. If I walk away without any announcement of our impending nuptials, your ruination will be completed. Yet if I had ignored you, the result would have been the same.”
The slow thud of her heart was painful. Adel was only distantly aware of other couples eagerly taking their places on the dance floor. Did this really mean he still wanted to wed her? Without taking his eyes from her, he spun her into several wonderful spins, the power and grace in his movements thrilling. His eyes were truly wonderful, the harsh gray color of the sky as it heralded a winter storm. Now they were filled with a guarded awareness and cool intelligence. A surge of interest to understand Edmond stirred in her heart.
“I never thought you would have such care for my reputation. You hardly know me, Your Grace, and I thank you.” It mattered to her that he had been thoughtful. When was the last time someone truly had given a fig about her? Warmth poured through her veins. “Do you still want me to be your duchess?”
Triumph flared in his gaze. “Yes.”
Relief twisted through her. “Thank you, I’m very much obliged to you.”
“I will have my solicitors draft the agreement and present to your father. I will also obtain a special license, and we will wed by Friday.”
She gasped. “That is in two days’ time.”
“Yes.”
Adel spluttered. “Surely that will be impossible. Would it not be best to have a courtship period of at least six months and then a quiet wedding?”
She did not want society’s judgmental eyes upon them when they cemented their vows. “There are already rumors there may be a…a…child,” she ended on a furious whisper, blushing profusely. “If we wait it will be evident to all, nothing of import happened.”
A dark brow arched. “The only part I am in agreement with is a quiet wedding. My offer is by this Friday or we do not wed at all.”
He seemed so cold and uncompromising she almost faltered. “May I inquire as to why the urgency?”
“My daughters expect me at Rosette Park by Sunday.”
Rosette Park. Even Adel had heard about the beauty and wealth of that estate. “Surely after—”
“No.”
Her hands tightened on his, and he glanced at their clasped palms. He shifted one of his fingers in a soothing stroke over her knuckles. The caress was unexpected, but what was even more startling was the heat that pooled in her veins. “I hardly know you,” she gasped.
“Are you committed to marrying me?”
She nodded slightly.
“Then why does it matter if we wed a few days from now, or in a few months? Unless your intention is to call off the engagement, when the furor eventually dies down? Let me assure you that will make an even greater scandal.”
The thought had not even occurred to her. She simply did not know him, like she had known Mr. Atwood. Adel winced. Much good that had done her. They had been friends for years and yet he had been persuaded away.
