AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Several turns passed and the steps finally felt natural enough that she could talk while he moved her about the ballroom. “Lord Apton is harmless. He was a dear friend of my mother’s when she was young and he’s old enough to be my father.”
His mouth twisted half in disgust and half in a tease. “Which makes him young enough that all his parts still work and that lets him imagine he could sweep you away from me.”
“Sweep me away from you?” She chuckled. “I didn’t ken you were capable of jealousy.”
“Watching you dance with every man in this ballroom has irked me to the pale.” He shook his head, a mutter at his lips. “The waltz. Of all things. What was the man thinking? You reminded each and every gentleman you were to wed me on the morrow, didn’t you?”
She shook her head, the grin not leaving her face. “There has not been a one that I’ve danced with that has not congratulated me on our upcoming nuptials. The people that are here consider it quite the triumph to be present for the Wolf Duke’s wedding.” The smile on her face widened. “Will that make me the Wolf Duchess? I rather like the epithet. Who would dare to cross me?”
He chuckled. “No one with any sense about them. I had to learn that the hard way.”
She laughed, her look leaving him for a moment to glance about at the many couples around them. “This is so much more…free than during the season. I’ve been passed from one gentleman to another tonight without a blink in between—this is far more attention than I ever received in the ballrooms in London.”
His bottom lip jutted up in a frown as he looked over her head at the men in the room. “Yes, the men are far bolder here than they are in the London. I’d never considered it before, but then, I never had to keep a wary eye on a wife and the attention she receives.”
Her hand flipped up from his shoulder. “I am the novelty of the moment, that is all.”
“And you are also gorgeous. That doesn’t help to dissuade the wandering eyes of men. Nor does the dress you chose—the décolletage is too revealing and the lavender accentuates your eyes too well. And you smile far too easily with them. And I think I’ve seen you laugh with—”
“Reiner—stop.” She squeezed the cusp of his shoulder. “You set me in this role as hostess, and I don’t think scowling at your guests is what you intended for me to do. Besides, I do believe the majority of them mean to gain your ear through me and they think to use flattery to turn my head.”
“Why do you think that?”
A shudder ran through her and she wrinkled her nose. “The amount of business schemes, and investments in merchant ships and in all manners of livestock—swine and sheep and bulls—that has been foisted upon me this eve is laughable. Llamas—one gentleman went on and on about llamas, for goodness’ sake.”
His eyebrows cocked.
“Yes, llamas. Just one topic of conversation. I barely even ken what the creature is. So I have either become the most sought after investment consultant in all of Lincolnshire, or each one of those gentleman is hoping I’ll repeat to you verbatim all they think to fill my head with.”
“Truly?” His head tilted to the side and his next step went further than intended, pressing his body against hers.
The jolt of energy that hit her when his chest met hers sent tingles along her spine and an aching into her core. She shouldn’t be dancing—of all things, the waltz—with him if she intended to make it to her bedchamber alone tonight.
The earlier fire in his look reignited and for a breath that lasted ages, she stared at his eyes, transfixed, frozen in time.
A discordant screech from the bows against the strings of two violins peeled into the air above.
The shrill sound echoed in her ears and it took another breath to realize the music had abruptly stopped. A commotion at the far end of the ballroom swept in a wave toward them just as Reiner looked up from her, alarm in his eyes as his feet stopped.
Her hand dropped from his shoulder and she spun around, following his gaze.
From the main entrance of the ballroom, all the way toward them, people started shuffling, moving to the sides as they parted a path directly down the center of the dance floor.
With her shorter height, it took a moment before enough people cleared the space in front of her so she could see what was coming.
Ten burly, raging, swords-clanging Scots.
Men built for war, charging into the ballroom. Charging at her.
At the front of them, her brother.
Lachlan.
Furious.
Seething with every step.
His hard hazel eyes locked onto hers and his gait sped, a ball of fury storming toward her.
