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Gabriel growled. “I’d rather stay here,” he said as he stalked toward her again, but Evie evaded him once more and walked toward the doors.
“I am not missing my wedding ball because of you, my lord,” she said with a haughty air.
“I liked it better when you called me husband,” Gabriel said behind her, and she smiled. She liked it better, too.
They walked through the corridor in silence and were soon standing on top of the stairs as the butler announced them for the first time.
A hush enveloped the ballroom, and hundreds of heads whipped up at the announcement. Every eye in the ballroom was on them. Ladies were whispering behind their fans and fanning themselves vigorously. Gentlemen bowed their heads to listen to the whispers, all the while watching the approaching couple.
Evie smiled brightly as they stepped down the stairs into the crowd of curious people. The first bars of a waltz struck, and her husband claimed their first dance, not giving a moment for the people to start approaching them.
Evie turned to Gabriel as he enveloped her in his arms and looked into his eyes. He held her close to his body, a little too close for propriety, but then she’d married a notorious rake, hadn’t she? She could feel his hands on her body as if they burned through her fabric. His scent of aloe wood, spices, and him, enveloped her like a fog. They were dancing and gazing into each other’s eyes, not even attempting to speak.
From the periphery of her vision, Evie saw people continue to whisper and watch them with their mouths agape. Evie always loved attention, and this was too much not to enjoy. She smiled widely, and Gabriel winked at her. He spun her around the ballroom with effortless grace. This was not the first dance she’d ever danced with him, but this time, as he stared right through to her soul and held her close, she knew he was rightfully hers.
When the music finally ceased, Gabriel leaned in and whispered into her ear, “Soon.”
Her breath caught in her throat, all her thoughts disappearing like a puddle on a sunny day.
The next moment, they were accosted by a throng of people offering their felicitations, asking loads of questions, and eventually drawing them apart.
* * *
“Your Grace, may I have this dance?” A gentleman bowed before her, and Evie accepted his offer with a smile. She left a throng of people behind, moving to the dancefloor on the gentleman’s arm.
“Mr. Darby,” she said as they reached the dancefloor and stood opposite each other. “A pleasure to be dancing with you again.”
The young gentleman grinned, obviously pleased that she remembered him. “Actually, it’s Lord Bingham now,” he said as they started the dance. “Inherited the title quite recently.”
Evie raised her brows. He was Bingham? The lord Widow Jane and the entire village of Forton complained about? “Oh, my condolences for your loss,” she said.
He waved her sympathy away. “My father was sickly; it was his time to go.”
They continued dancing in uncomfortable silence for several beats.
“Lord Bingham, does the small village of Forton belong to your estates?” she finally asked.
“It does.” He nodded. “Useless little piece of land does not bring any profit. But I am going to make it bring profit, just you see.”
“How are you going to do that exactly?” She smiled at him, although she wanted to kick him instead. She knew how, by robbing his tenants and booting them off their homes.
“You just know that I shall. Nothing to worry your beautiful little head with.”
Evie’s smile turned tight. “I assure you, I am quite capable of understanding the intricacies of landowning. I am a duchess.”
“I am certain your husband takes care of all—Oh, pardon, I almost forgot. You married St. Clare.” The man laughed, and Evie boiled from the inside. How dare he criticize Gabriel when he was treating his tenants worse than cattle? “If you ever need help, it’ll be my pleasure to go over your estate matters with you. For a certain… price.” He looked her up and down suggestively, and Evie’s stomach churned unpleasantly.
“Whatever you think I need help with, I assure you, I don’t.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t be so final with your words, Your Grace.”
Thankfully, the music ceased, and Evie didn’t have to retort. She curtsied sharply and turned away from him. Another gentleman approached her before she even made a step.
“Your Grace, would you do me an honor of gracing me with this dance?”
Evie smiled and nodded. “Lord Stanhope, a pleasure.”
He led her farther into a throng of dancers, and they stood opposite each other. Evie curtsied, and they started to dance as the orchestra struck the first tune.
