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March said a few words to the debs and then brushed through them as if they no longer existed. He strode right to Kerrigan’s side and bowed deeply at the waist. “My lady.”
She stood, stunned. A curtsy was the appropriate response. Instead, she blurted, “What are you doing here?”
His nostrils flared just slightly, and then he smoothed it over. “My darling, how could you expect anything otherwise? I came as soon as I heard.”
“Heard?”
“That you had returned to us, of course.” He plucked Kerrigan’s hand out of the air and pressed a kiss against it.
She nearly wrenched it back. The thought of his lips on her person made her physically recoil. She managed to slowly withdraw it. “I’ve been here all along.”
“Why did you never send word?” His big blue eyes were so sincere. “I was desperate for your return. For years, I went looking for you.”
She blinked at him, waiting for the subterfuge. She’d known March like no other person, but it had been so long ago. Twelve years was a long time, and she’d been a child. “I thought that this was what was meant for me.”
He grinned brightly. “You were meant for the world.”
Kerrigan had nothing to say to that. As far as she was concerned, she had the world now.
“This was meant to be our Season,” he said calmly, gesturing to the court behind them.
Everyone was watching and waiting to see what would happen. If Kerrigan would so easily snag the most eligible bachelor on her first night here. If things would return to how they had once been.
“Yes,” Kerrigan said lightly. “But I don’t get a Season. I’m here as a representative of the Society. I train for the rest of the year.”
“That’s deeply unfortunate. Surely, they can let you all off the hook for a few parties.”
Kerrigan shrugged. “This one was in Kinkadia and on the weekend we finished our first month of training. I don’t know what things will look like after this.”
She waited for his easily kindled anger to rise up at her words. For him to find that soft spot on her elbow that would tinge blue. But he smiled so serenely that she wondered if she knew him at all anymore. Perhaps twelve years was too long to assume to still know a person. Perhaps the behavior from his youth was past him. She didn’t know. She didn’t want to know.
“It’s so lovely to see you again,” she said, trying for regret. “But I …”
“It has been, hasn’t it? If I remember correctly, you adore dancing. It would be my pleasure.” He held his hand out. “Shall we?”
Kerrigan stumbled on her words. Everyone was watching, waiting, wondering. She hated this part of this world. Before she could even form a word to refuse, March took her hand and tugged her toward the dance floor. The song had just ended, and another one began. It was a quick jaunt that her feet remembered before her mind even caught up. Then, she was in March’s arms, being whisked across the dance floor to a perfect tempo.
She had to give March credit. Whatever he’d been when they were children, he had shaped up to be a perfectly respectable gentleman. He’d detested dancing and all courtly things as a child. Now, he moved with a grace that could only be gained from endless hours of practice and a confidence born from birth.
Ashby March was next in line for the House of Medallion. If they had wed, it was entirely possible that when the regents from the House of Drame went into the void, she and March would have succeeded them as king and queen. That showed in every movement. She and March had been built for this moment. They were supposed to be the stars. Even if she was no longer that person.
“You’re even more beautiful than I envisioned,” he whispered against her ear.
“I didn’t know that you thought of me at all.”
“Of course I did,” he said, pulling back to look into her eyes. His blue ones so sincere that her distrust wavered.
Kerrigan didn’t know what to say to that. She hadn’t thought of March at all. In fact, she’d been glad to be rid of him. And she was too busy to deal with whatever was lurking there in those blue eyes.
The music ended. Kerrigan stepped back, putting much-needed distance between her and March. Her heart thudded in her chest from the exertion of the dance. There were faint notes of applause all around them, as if they had danced for everyone else’s spectacle. She hadn’t even noticed.
“Another?” he asked.
And then there was another hand there. “May I have the next dance?”
Kerrigan turned to find Fordham with one hand behind his back, the other before her. His gray eyes were as mercurial as ever, the black of his hair tipping forward toward his eyes. Her heart thudded for a whole other reason.
