Page 49 of The Duchess’ Little Miracle

“William. Surely this level of physical contact is entirely unnecessary,” Seraphina said, keeping her voice strictly pitched for his ears alone.

William did not remove his hand from where it rested against the curve of her waist. He merely tilted his head, his eyes holding hers. “It is our first public appearance as a married couple since the small ceremony. We are stepping into a ballroom filled with a hundred members of the ton, every single one of them looking for the slightest tear in our seams. A husband guiding his wife by the waist is hardly extreme.”

“It is excessive,” Seraphina insisted, adjusting her fan with a brisk movement. “We can project complete unity simply by standing side by side. There is no need for you to be so... touchy.”

William’s lips twitched. He leaned back, studying her. “So, if I understand your instruction, I am not to touch you for the entirety of the evening?”

“That is not what I said,” Seraphina replied quickly. “I am merely suggesting restraint. There is a distinction between standing together as partners and clinging to one another as though we were head-and-ears in love.”

“Then tell me this...” William said softly. “...how do you propose we dance?”

Seraphina blinked. “Dancing is entirely different.”

“It is not different,” William countered smoothly. “If I stand three feet away from you all night with my hands clasped behind my back like a guard at the Tower, the tabbies will be whispering before the second set. They will say the Duke of Norwyn has already grown cold toward his bride. Do you truly want rumors of a rift circulating before the month is out?”

Seraphina opened her mouth to argue, but William cut in gently, leaning forward until his shadow enveloped her.

“Now, I could not care less about rumors, but consider the broader strategy, Seraphina,” he murmured. “We both know there is a blackmailer watching us, waiting for a vulnerability. A solid, affectionate front weakens their position entirely.”

Seraphina swallowed hard. Rationally, his logic was flawless. “Yes,” she admitted grudgingly. “Your reasoning regarding the blackmailer is sound. It is just...”

“It is just that I make you nervous,” William supplied quietly.

Seraphina snapped her head up, shooting him an irritated glare. “Why do you insist on repeating that absurdity? I have told you a dozen times that you do no such thing. I am completely comfortable in your presence.”

“I beg to differ,” William said smoothly. He leaned back, his gaze tracking the line of her throat where her pulse was visibly hammering. “I have been watching you quite closely for the nearly two months we have been married, Seraphina. I am neither blind nor a fool. When I stand within a foot of you, your breath hitches. Your cheeks alter in color instantly. You hold yourself so rigidly I fear you might snap. Those are not the actions of a woman who is entirely comfortable.”

“That is a complete misinterpretation of my actions,” Seraphina insisted in a harsh whisper. “Why does it even matter to you?”

William leaned in close again. “Because I have a theory I need to prove.”

Seraphina paused, taken aback. “A theory?”

“Yes,” William murmured. “Are you entirely certain, without a single shadow of a doubt, that the only reason your body reacts so violently to my proximity is because you are suffering from some physical ailment?”

“Yes,” Seraphina said instantly. “Of course it is. That is precisely what I have been trying to explain to you. It is an atypical physical glitch, an isolated vascular disturbance.”

“Then if it is merely a physical glitch,” William said softly, a smile curving his lips. “You should have no logical objection whatsoever to my placing a hand on your waist to guide you through a crowded room. If I have no emotional effect on you, then my touch is nothing more than a neutral physical contact. Unless, of course, you are afraid of the effect.”

Seraphina froze. He had maneuvered her into a corner using her own rationalizations. To retreat now would be a surrender of her intellect.

“You are entirely correct,” Seraphina said tightly, lifting her chin. “Precisely. You have no emotional effect on me whatsoever. None at all. My hesitation has nothing to do with you.”

William raised an eyebrow. “Is that so?”

“Yes,” she asserted, grasping for a plausible alternative. “If my pulse is elevated, it is simply because... because I am nervous about the room. It is our first grand ball together, and I am expected to navigate a formal dance floor for the first time. Any person would experience a heightened nervous response under such... scrutiny.”

William studied her for a moment. “I see. So it is the room, the crowd, and the dancing that makes you nervous, not me.”

“Precisely.”

“Well then,” William said smoothly. He placed his palm firmly against the small of her back again. “That is an immense relief. Since I have no effect on you, we can focus entirely on managing your nervousness regarding the crowd.”

Seraphina’s breath hitched as his hand pressed against her spine.

‘It is going to be an exceptionally long night, ‘she thought to herself.

They stepped over the threshold into the hall. Before Seraphina could fully orient herself, a familiar, joyful cry cut through the noise.