Chapter 20

CHAPTER TWENTY

" L ady Harwood, you are a vision," Benedict grinned, bowing to kiss the gloved hand of the older woman.

As Lady Harwood giggled like a young girl, her husband grinned up at the duke. "You have outdone yourself, Your Grace. I have never seen anything like it."

Benedict followed the man's gesture, feeling more than a little pleased at his own efforts. Indeed, the gardens looked splendid. It was a thoroughly extravagant affair. The daylight had begun to fade and, with it, Benedict's staff had lit candles in nearly every corner of the gardens. Tables were piled high with food and drink, and the musicians were tuning their instruments in preparation for the dancing that was about to begin.

"I am pleased to hear you say so," Benedict replied cordially. "I hope you both enjoy yourselves."

The older couple hurried away as a few more guests moved to greet the duke. But he was having trouble focusing on their conversation. His eyes darted around the gardens, searching for someone who had not yet made their appearance.

"Do you not think?"

Benedict blinked, brought back to the present conversation by the older man standing before him. Unsure of what the discussion had been about, Benedict nodded vaguely. "Indeed. I beg your pardon, will you excuse me for a moment?"

Taking his leave, Benedict moved through the other guests, his eyes raking over the faces before him. He was on his way back into the manor, worrying that something was indeed wrong, when a sight stopped him dead in his tracks.

The Earl of Windham and his daughters had arrived. But though both Jerome and Selina were dressed in their finest clothes, they were not what had caught Benedict's attention.

It was Thalia. She was beautiful.

She was wearing a modest gown, similar to what she usually wore, but the color was different. Though somewhat muted, the dress was a deep emerald green. Almost the same color as her eyes.

Against her dark hair, it made her soft features seem to glow, caught between such stark yet fitting colors.

As Thalia glanced around the gardens, Benedict caught her eye. It was the first time they had seen one another since that night, he realized. The first time since they had shared their bodies with one another. Since he had apologized and left her there in the dark alone.

Even as all this ran through his mind, Benedict could not look away. It was Thalia who broke eye contact, moving in the opposite direction to greet some other guests.

"The dancing will begin shortly." Benedict's mother was at his side. When he glanced down at her, she was watching him warily. "You should lead the first dance."

Holding in a sigh, Benedict said nothing. He knew exactly what his mother was not so subtly trying to say: it was time he asked Lady Selina to dance. Marina was impatient for her son to propose and, now that she had been acquainted with the woman in question and approved of Selina, she was all the more eager for Benedict to seal the deal.

"Perhaps –"

"I will do as I please, Mother," Benedict said sharply. "And if I so happen to do something you approve of, believe me, it is not done to please you."

Stalking away, Benedict allowed himself a deep breath before seeking out Lady Selina.

He had been planning to ask her to dance even before his mother had brought it up. But now that Marina might believe she was responsible for getting her son to make such a move, Benedict was nearly tempted to give up dancing entirely.

Then he reminded himself that he could not allow his mother such a hold over him. Whatever he did or did not do had nothing to do with her. Just as it had all those years that she was absent. Once, he had needed her advice. Once, he had begged for it. But it had been denied to him in his time of need. Now it was too late for Marina to pretend to be his mother. She was that merely in name, and nothing more.

Benedict found Lady Selina near the rosebushes, the same ones he had pointed out to her on their recent walk. At his approach, she offered him a small smile. "Your Grace, the gardens look splendid this evening."

"Thank you. They are made even more rapturous by your added beauty," he replied smoothly.

Benedict waited a moment, expecting Selina to giggle and blush. But she did not. To his surprise, she frowned slightly and glanced to the side.

Clearing his throat, Benedict tried again. "Would you do me the honor of dancing with me, Lady Selina? I would be exceedingly grateful for a dance partner of your grace and talent."

Once again, Benedict's practiced praise seemed to land on unhearing – or unwilling – ears. Selina sighed a small, quiet breath. Then, meeting his gaze, she shook her head, a sad smile twisting the corners of her lips. "I am not in the mood tonight, I am afraid. Forgive me, Your Grace. But I can recommend another dance partner.

"My sister is a talented dancer," she continued, gesturing over his shoulder. When Benedict turned, he spotted Thalia on the far side of the gardens, the nearby candlelight making her look even more lovely, if that were even possible. "I think, now that it seems you two have stopped your bickering, that you should dance with her. As a show of geniality. I should like you to be friends," she added thoughtfully.

Thoroughly confused, Benedict turned his attention back to Selina and nodded curtly. "I shall. If you change your mind, you will find in me a most willing dance partner."

"Thank you."

Not only was Benedict perplexed by Selina's strange, distant behavior, but he was also taken aback at the relief he felt when she turned him down. Then, strangest of all, a wave of excitement had washed through him at Selina's suggestion that he dance with Thalia.

He told himself it was because Marina would disapprove of such a show of preference. Yes, that was what it was. Marina had already grown concerned about how much attention Benedict had been paying Thalia, while courting her sister, so by dancing with Thalia now, he would irritate his mother further in the most satisfying of ways.

As he started across the garden toward her, Thalia turned her head, the candlelight flickering off her delicate neck. Benedict's hand twitched at his side. He remembered caressing that very spot. He remembered touching her there…and everywhere. How soft she had been. How warm. How tender her eyes were as she lay in his arms afterward.

Startled by his thoughts, Benedict tried to push aside the heat that swelled between his legs at the memory of their shared tryst. He tried to push away his desire to do it again. But he was unsuccessful. How would she look, writhing in ecstasy, her body spread beneath him on the soft pillows of his bed? How would she sound, if she were given leave to cry out his name; if he commanded her to make as much noise as she could?

For a moment, Benedict thought he might need to excuse himself while he cooled his desires. But, managing to control his body, he continued his journey across the empty, grassy dance floor.

When he stopped before her, Thalia looked up at the duke with obvious concern. "Your Grace," she murmured, nodding a bow.

"Lady Thalia. It would seem that I am expected to start the dancing this evening. And I am in need of a partner."

"My sister is over there, Your Grace," Thalia replied, her eyes on the ground in front of her.

"Indeed, she is. And when I spoke to her, she asked that I dance with you instead."

This succeeded in catching Thalia's attention. She raised her head, frowning at him. "She did?"

"She did." Benedict allowed himself a smile. "And I must say, I was more than happy to obey such a request."

Thalia's mouth opened, ready with a question. But, before she could speak, Benedict leaned as close as propriety would allow. "I am always happy to have a reason to touch you," he murmured, his voice low and taunting.

When he pulled back, he was rewarded with Thalia's blush. But she did not look altogether angry with him. Instead, Benedict realized that she looked as if she shared his sentiment. This realization was even more gratifying than the last.

Stepping back, Benedict held out his hand to her. "May I have this dance, Lady Thalia?"

Glancing around for a moment, Thalia seemed to waver between her two options. Then, reaching out, she nodded. "You may, Your Grace."

As Benedict led her out into the wide, grassy space designated for dancing, several other couples took their places beside them. Thalia glanced around for her sister but could not find her. Had Selina really suggested that Benedict and Thalia dance together?

She wanted to test Thalia's resolve, she realized. Selina wanted to see if Thalia was truly prepared to be civil to the duke, for her sister's sake.

But if that was the case, then why wasn't Selina watching?

"You are already looking for an escape," grinned Benedict.

"I thought it time to reverse the roles," Thalia replied without thinking. "Since you were the one to run away last time."

At that, Benedict flinched. Thalia was regretting her words as the music swelled. Then, before either of them could do anything about it, the dance began.

Benedict took her hand as they stepped in toward one another, then out again. The couples on either side of them did the same. As they moved close together once more, he spoke. "I regret my hasty departure," Benedict murmured, his voice just low enough that only Thalia could hear him over the music.

Taken aback by the sincerity in his tone, Thalia did not reply.

They parted, exchanging places with the couple to their right. When they came back together, Benedict was smiling. "I also regret not having seen you in this dress before."

Thalia's cheeks burned. Was he complimenting her? "It belongs to my sister. She insisted that I wear it tonight."

"I think," Benedict replied, taking her hand once more, "that she will have to concede that it suits you best. It is the same color as your eyes."

"I did not think you knew the color of my eyes," Thalia retorted, secretly far more gratified than she should be. Then, as they drew close, following the swell of the music, she lowered her voice. "I thought you were far too busy looking at other parts of me to notice my eyes."

She did not know what gave her the audacity to tease him so, but the grin that split Benedict's lips put butterflies in her stomach. "Why, Lady Thalia," he chuckled, his hand weaving around her waist, "I don't know what you mean."

Thalia couldn't help but giggle a little as Benedict continued to grin down at her.

It was then their time to promenade down the line between the other couples. Thalia took his arm and, side by side, they danced down the green. As they resumed their places across from one another, Thalia realized that she was enjoying herself.

"Well?" Benedict asked, "I have admitted that you are utterly stunning tonight. Where is my compliment?"

Thalia scoffed, trying to hide the heat that rose in her cheeks. Stunning? He thought she looked stunning? She had never been called anything like that before. She had never even been referred to as beautiful. "What?"

"If we are to be civil to one another now, as your sister suggests, then I think you should pay me a compliment in return. It is only fair."

He was teasing her again. But Thalia could not help but be amused. She took his arm again, preparing to promenade back up the line. "You have planned a lovely evening," she said after a moment.

Now it was Benedict's turn to scoff. "That was pitiful," he admonished. "Try again."

Thalia hid a smile. "You look handsome tonight," she tried again.

Benedict groaned in mock annoyance. Then, suddenly, he pulled her close. His lips were at her ear. "Tell me that you loved the way I felt inside you," he whispered.

In the next instant, he was pulling away, moving to take the arm of the woman next to him. As Thalia did the same with the man to her right, she found she could hardly remember the steps of the dance.

She was still reeling when she and Benedict were reunited at the end of the line. "Well?" Benedict pressed again. "Did you?"

He turned to her as they moved in and out with steps in time with the music. Their right hands were clasped tightly together as they danced.

Then, all of a sudden, the music ended. The couples around them applauded. But Thalia could not move. She was caught in Benedict's gaze. He was still holding her hand.

Slowly his smile faded. "You do look beautiful tonight," he murmured, utterly serious, utterly sincere.

Unbidden, tears sprang to Thalia's eyes. She took a step back, extricating herself from his grasp. She couldn't breathe.

Thalia glanced around for an escape. "I, I do not feel well, Your Grace," she murmured. "I…I must retire."

"Are you -?"

"I am sorry," she stammered. Then, picking up her skirts, she hurried away, back toward the house.

If Benedict called after her, Thalia did not hear. She could hear nothing over the thumping of her heart in her ears. Petrified, she fled the scene. Something had occurred to her, standing before Benedict just now, something far more dangerous than anything she had thought or done before.

Thalia was in love with him.