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“While Edmond does not love me yet, I find our marriage has a comfortable feel…and we have passion, a thing many marriages lack. I am certain I would not have felt such rousing emotions being Mrs. Atwood.” Adel ignored the pinch in her heart that hinted she wanted much more from her duke. She wanted his love, his child…his unconditional acceptance.
“Oh!” Evie smiled. “I am so relieved. I have been tormented, fearing for your unhappiness.”
Adel chuckled. “I am very content, actually.”
Evie glanced through the terrace door at where Wolverton leaned casually on the balcony railing, a cold imperious duke who held himself aloof from the glittering whirl of society, the facile chattering, and the frivolity of the entire ball. It was very apparent he was there only for his duchess. Pleasure warmed Adel.
“So he improves on closer acquaintance,” Evie said, a soft smile playing on her lips.
“Indeed he does, my opinion of him has improved.”
I fear I am falling in love…
“So under that severe austerity lies a man of sensitive sensibilities?”
Now Evie’s tone rang with such incredulity that Adel laughed.
“I fear he is as reserved as he ever was…but there is a keen consideration for others, and I find I much prefer his passion to poetic sensibilities.” Such passions…
“I must say I cannot imagine Wolverton as passionate. But his eyes have not left you since you started the rounds. He is besotted.”
Adel blushed, and Evie eyes widened even more. Then they both laughed. Adel noted her friend’s laughter lacked true merriment. “Are you truly well, Evie?”
For a brief moment despair clouded her gaze, before she looked away. Then she spoke. “Rumors mention Westfall as having an attachment.”
“Westfall!”
Evie swallowed. “Yes, with Lady Honoria, Viscount Tehran’s daughter.”
“Certainly there is a mistake; the ton knows he has sworn never to marry.”
Evie faced her and the misery on her friend’s face was a blow.
“I asked him, and he confirmed he will be offering for her.”
“Oh, Evie, I am so sorry. What are you to do?”
An elegant shoulder shrugged. “I will dance the night away as always and not give another thought to a certain marquess.” Then she flitted away.
“I have it on good authority the waltz is about to be announced. I shall have this dance, duchess,” a low voice said behind her.
Adel grinned. “How unfashionable, are you intending to only dance with your wife?”
As if on cue, the musicians started the rousing strains, and she walked into Edmond’s arms.
“And who else would you have me indulge in such frivolities with, if not my duchess?”
“There are many young ladies that society deems to have little distinction, and the gentlemen are not courteous enough to dance with those without obvious partners. I know, for I endured several balls with only Evie’s brother, Viscount Ravenswood, asking me to the dance floor.”
“I will ensure I offer my feet to all the slighted young ladies for the duration of the night.”
They spun in elegant twirls, soaring around the ballroom. She had never felt more contented.
“It’s the mad duke.”
Nothing in Edmond’s face indicated he heard the whisper as a couple floated past.
“They said he’s fought several duels!”
