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“I wasn’t expecting that,” she whispered. The second they had entered, heads had swivelled in their direction. It was sudden—and then the whispers began.
“You get used to the feeling after a while,” Elliot whispered back to her. “Thetonlike to gossip. It’s their chief occupation, I am sure of it.”
Ophelia wasn’t warmed by the words. She was too aware of how people stared at her. Some ladies lifted their chins and looked down their noses at her.
“How have you put up with this for so long?” she said, stepping closer to Elliot. His eyes widened as she came so close. “I have surprised you?”
“A little.”
“Why?”
“I thought you weren’t bothered about coming near me at present, Ophelia.”
What does that mean?
Ophelia was about to ask when someone approached them. A shadow passed over the connection she had on Elliot’s arm, masking the candlelight momentarily.
“Lord Chester,” Elliot said, his voice rather sharp though he put upon a false smile. Ophelia snapped her gaze at Lord Chester, scarcely able to believe that the man stood before them. “It is good to see you again.”
“I wish I could say the same for you, Your Grace.”
Chapter 18
“Well, I see we have started as politely as we mean to go on.” Ophelia’s words were tight as she stood taller. She could feel Elliot bristling at her side, though he made no reply to Lord Chester. He merely glared at the man. “How are you, my lord?” She attempted a pleasantry as she curtsied to Lord Chester, and he bowed in return.
“Startled.” He looked between them, quickly. “You can imagine the shock that has echoed across thetonat your speedy marriage. A shock, indeed.”
His eyes settled on Ophelia, and she felt uncomfortable at that look. Her hand curled more around Elliot’s arm, and he placed his other hand over hers. Despite all the strangeness between them, Ophelia was comforted by that touch.
“Thetonwill grow used to our union in time,” Elliot answered simply. “We are here to greet our old friends tonight.”
“Then as an old friend, may I be the first to welcome you.” Despite the kind words, they were spoken rather snidely. Lord Chester offered his hand to Ophelia. “Your Grace, may I have the first dance for the night?”
More than anything did Ophelia want to refuse, but she was aware of how she and Elliot were being watched. It was plain for any onlooker to see that with Lord Chester’s hand outstretched, he wished to dance with her. If she refused, it would be talked of, gossiped of. She could see Elliot had the same worry, in the way he glanced at her with his lips pressed firmly together in a thin line.
I can’t make the gossip any worse.
Ophelia breathed deeply as she gave her hand to Lord Chester.
“One dance,” she said quietly. Elliot seemed to hold onto her other hand a little tighter for a second before he released her. She sent an apologetic look his way, but he had already turned his head. The absence of that look had her gut tightening.
“This way, Your Grace.” Lord Chester emphasised the words, showing his hatred for the new title. He escorted Ophelia quickly towards the dance floor where the dancers were changing over. When the music began, Ophelia swallowed, realising it was unfortunately a waltz.
In time to the three-beat music, Lord Chester took her hand and her waist, too strongly for her liking. As her free hand found his shoulder, she was careful to push against him, keeping him a little distance from her as they began their dance.
“What mischief do you intend to cause tonight?” Ophelia asked, noting how he looked at her, barely blinking and not once looking away.
“Who says I am up to mischief?”
“Your attempt at an innocent look is rather defeated by your smile, my lord.” Ophelia’s calm words made that smile fall from his face.
“I merely wished to tell you something.” He drew her away from some of the dancers, avoiding a collision. She could tell he was trying to shorten the distance between them, but she pressed into his shoulder, not letting it happen. “You may have won this round of our little game, Your Grace. Yet I am not admitting defeat just yet.”
“What does that mean?” Ophelia spluttered in surprise. “In case you had not noticed, my lord, I am married now.” When he pulled her closer, she stepped on his toe subtly. The sound he made was enough to draw the attention of the closest dancers, but they soon lost interest and looked away again. “I am beyond your reach.”
“I rather think that was your intention, was it not?” He leered at her as he spoke. “To be beyond my reach?”
“Your reach and my stepmother’s.” Ophelia smiled with victory.
