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“Very much so,” she agreed.
“I think you’re better at this, than I,” he replied. “Although you beat me soundly at fencing.”
“I’m better at most things,” she replied. They both laughed. The moment was bittersweet.
“Very true,” he agreed.
They were silent, just staring into each other’s eyes. The whole of the ball seemed to vanish. Even the Duke of Tiverwell. It was like that every time they were together. He didn’t want this to end. Not ever. He would have to thank Dunsmore for engineering it.
“This might be the last time we’re close like this,” he said, preparing himself to say goodbye to her. Possibly forever. They might see each other, from time to time, but he knew that it wouldn’t be the same. The Duke would make sure that they couldn’t be together. Not like this.
“I certainly hope not,” she replied. “There will be other balls.”
“But your father will find another suitor, and likely warn him about me.”
“No doubt he’ll try,” she told him, smiling sadly.
“What will you do about it?” he asked. They both knew the Duke’s word was final. Particularly where Charles marrying his daughter was concerned.
“I’ll die a spinster, Charles,” she said, stoutly. “If I can’t marry you, then I won’t marry at all.”
He swallowed. That was a bold statement. “But you’re so young to be saying something like that, My Lady.”
“Are you planning on marrying, then?” she asked.
“No, never.” If he wasn’t going to marry for love, then what was the point? He’d leave all his money to Mrs. Osbourne and be done with it.
“It’s an impossible situation,” she replied.
“And yet, here we are,” he said.
“Here we are,” she agreed. Her eyes softened. He held her as close as he dared. His body ached for her—his heart felt like it was breaking. When he inhaled, he smelled the scent of her rose perfume, mingling with the distinctive scent of her hair, her skin. It made his skin tingle, and his thoughts turn to the bedroom. He wanted to enjoy this moment—to draw it out, indefinitely. But the music ended with a flourish. He bowed to her as she curtsied to him. She took his hand, pressing it in her own.
“I’ll never forget this moment,” she told him. “I’ll remember it always, and how much you love me.”
“I won’t forget it, either,” he replied, aching for her. He felt like he was being torn in half as they both parted ways. He walked over to the refreshments table, pouring himself a glass of punch, if only to give himself something to do.
Lord Dunsmore sidled up next to him. “You know what the Duke just said to me?”
“What?” He could only imagine. The Duke had been livid with Lord Dunsmore. But the Duke was held in check by his overwhelming desire not to have his daughter know about “Mr. Bones.”
“That he had never realized until just a moment ago how truly in love the two of you are.”
“I don’t believe you,” Charles said, taking a sip of his punch.
Lord Dunsmore smiled mysteriously. “You will, my friend. You will.”
“I can’t believe I’ve lost her,” Charles murmured, his eyes scanning the room for her.
“Not yet,” Lord Dunsmore assured him. “While you’re both still alive, nothing is lost.”
* * *
Arabella danced, all through the evening. If she was on the dancefloor, then she could keep looking out for Charles. She kept spotting him, talking along the edges. He watched her, as she watched him.
Each time that she saw him, it was like a knife through her heart. She loved him so thoroughly, and she knew that he felt the same. Arabella could search the whole world over, and she would never find anyone who loved her so well and perfectly as Charles did.
This was what it was always going to be like. She was always going to be looking for him, standing along the sides, where the ton had relegated him. Simply because he worked for them. They would never bend the rules—not for anything—not even for love.
