Chapter 20

CHAPTER20

“Forbid?” Lord Pine’s cheeks flushed as he stared at Henry. “But Her Grace said yes, Your Grace.” He seemed to remember that he and Henry had not been introduced, as he bowed hastily.

Henry felt such disgust for this man that he barely bowed his head in acknowledgement. The thought of Lord Pine being the reason Isabella had raced into the garden that night disgusted him.

She was running away from Lord Pine. He frightened her!

There was not a chance that Henry was going to let Lord Pine near Isabella now.

“She is my wife, and I am not happy with the arrangement. Surely you would agree that no man should be forced to watch his wife dance with another that he does not approve of? Yes?” Henry said sharply, waiting for Lord Pine to reply.

“Well, yes, of course, I suppose…” Lord Pine stammered, his eyes flicking over Henry’s shoulder as he searched for Isabella’s face.

“Then that is the end of the matter.” Henry waved his hand dismissively. “You are excused, Lord Pine.”

Lord Pine stood tall, his eyes turning back to Henry with clear distaste.

“Well, I never! The impertinence,” he muttered to himself. “Never in all my days…” He wandered off, his voice fading as he disappeared through the crowd.

Slowly, Henry turned back to face Isabella. He found her eyes narrowed and her hands folded firmly across her fine gown.

“Did you actually wish to dance with him?” Henry scoffed. “If you ran away from him once, then surely the idea does not appeal to you.”

“It doesn’t, but whom I dance with is my decision, not yours, Henry.”

Her words caused a wave of anger to ripple through his body. That feeling filled his blood to the brim.

“I will not watch you dance with a man like that. Not any man, in fact.”

“No man at all?” She laughed. “Oh, I see the rules we are to play by.” Her voice took on a sardonic tone. “You can have Lady Paulbridge in your house, fawning over you, and you can charm Lady Hampton in public, at a ball, where everyone can see you, but I cannot even dance with another man? What fair rules they seem to be.”

“You simplify something that is not simple,” Henry said in a low voice, stepping towards her. “I was speaking to Lady Hampton. It was nothing more.”

“Her lips were a mere hair’s breadth from your ear at one point.” Her words had Henry pausing.

Is that what really happened?

He thought back to the conversation. Lady Hampton had approached him suddenly in his discussion with Lord Hillson, and he had told her quite plainly that whilst he had enjoyed their affair, it had come to an end. He was a married man. She’d wished him well, then said in a low voice in his ear that she hoped someday he would change his mind. He vowed he would not, and they’d parted.

“Your Grace?”

Henry found it hard to turn his head at the sound. Someone was calling him, but he was so busy staring at Isabella that it was impossible to think of turning to look at anyone else. Images played out in his mind where he ended this argument between them by kissing her. It was something he could not do in public.

“Your Grace?”

The voice was so near that he had no choice this time but to turn around, as did Isabella. Only, Henry realized that the gentleman in question wasn’t calling to him at all, but Isabella.

“Mr. Rufford?” she said in surprise, then bobbed a curtsy to him.

“Good evening, Mr. Rufford.” Henry bowed to him, as the gentleman hurried to bow in return.

Henry had met Mr. Rufford before on more than one occasion. He was a wealthy landowner, and though he had no title, he had a vast estate and income. There was something in Henry’s mind that niggled at him. He was certain the night of Isabella’s debut that Mr. Rufford had danced with her that night. Yet, Mr. Rufford had been travelling around the continent for the last few years.

“How are you, Sir?” Isabella asked warmly. “I understand you have recently returned from your travels to Europe?”

“Indeed, I have.” Mr. Rufford smiled at her softly. “I’d be glad to tell you about my journeys. I remember from our last acquaintance that you are a fair dancer.”

“You are kind, for I am not so great,” Isabella said with a wrinkled nose.

She is.

Henry could remember how he had danced with her. She was bold in her dancing, striking, impossible to look away from.

“Perhaps we could share a dance now, Your Grace, of course, that is if your husband does not mind?”

Mr. Rufford turned to Henry for approval. Any relief Henry might have felt at Mr. Rufford asking his permission was short-lived. Before Henry could even turn the gentleman down, Isabella had taken his hand.

“My husband will not mind. He has ladies he wishes to dance with himself.” Isabella gave Henry a pointed look.

“Bella—” Before Henry could say any more to stop her from leaving, she was gone.

Hand in hand, the Duchess and Mr. Rufford walked towards the ballroom, ready for their dance.

Henry followed as quickly as he could, so put out that he was tempted to march across the dance floor and stop the dance before it could begin. As he reached the side of the dance floor, Mr. Rufford and Isabella had already begun the dance.

Cursing under his breath, the Duke backed away from the dancers. He went so far that he practically collided with the wall at the far end of the room. He ignored everything and everyone around him. He didn’t think of the ladies gossiping nearby, waving their fans in front of their faces, nor of the gentlemen who were guffawing with laughter, so deep in their cups. He only thought of Isabella.

She danced happily with Mr. Rufford. The two took part in eager conversation, making Henry think much of the dance he had shared with Isabella at her debut. It was a long time ago and difficult to remember in places, though he could still recall the way she had smiled and the way his hand had rested on her waist.

“There had been excitement,” he murmured to himself. “Even then, before I really knew her.”

She was happy now with Mr. Rufford, smiling as she had not done with Henry all evening.

“Hark, what’s going on here then?” a familiar voice called to Henry.

“Not now, John.”

Henry barely turned to glance at his friend, who leaned against the wall behind him with an amused grin on his face. They’d already greeted one another that evening and partaken in a few jests, but that seemed like some time ago to Henry.

“I thought you had returned to your wife to dance with her.”

“I had,” John muttered, then sighed deeply. “She is now, unfortunately, dancing with an old family friend, so I must watch on with jealousy from the side.” He turned his back against the wall and folded his arms to mimic Henry’s position. “Shall we glare at the dance floor together, fueling our feelings of jealousy?”

“Jealousy? What do I have to be jealous of?” Henry rejected the idea at once, shrugging it off. His eyes still danced over Isabella. Her lips curved into a full smile, and as Mr. Rufford drew her under his arm, she giggled. Mr. Rufford’s hand drew softly across her waist, and Henry’s brows quirked at that touch. “He doesn’t have to be so intimate with her when they dance.”

“Yes, I see what you mean. You’re not jealous at all.” At John’s words, Henry shot him a warning glare. “Oh, come off it, Henry. What is so wrong about being jealous of your wife dancing with another man, even if it means nothing? Look at my wife with her friend.” John pointed towards his wife, who was on the dance floor.

It was plain Eloise was enjoying her friend’s company, but the way she repeatedly looked at John showed where her heart really lay.

Why does Isabella not look at me?

“You are jealous,” John observed.

“I’m not. It’s just…” Henry couldn’t put his feeling into words. “I am not happy with her dancing with other men.”

“I’m sure that is part of the definition of jealousy.”

“John!”

“Merely pointing out the obvious.” John continued to chuckle and looked at Eloise dancing.

Both men fell into silence, watching the dancers together.

Henry couldn’t stop staring at the way Mr. Rufford touched Isabella. Whenever he placed a hand on her waist, it had Henry’s mind back to how he had cornered Isabella against his bedchamber wall the day before. His hand had been so close to touching her.

It had been a far cry from what they had experienced last night. Then, he had held her hip with one hand as the other brought her to the edge of ecstasy.

He sighed audibly, longing for that feeling again.

“How does married life suit you then, Henry? In all seriousness now.” John’s voice had become more pensive. “I’ve never seen you stare this way at a woman before.”

“It is… fine.” Henry lied, feeling it made his tongue flick across his mouth uncomfortably. “I just didn’t think I’d be as possessive over her as I am now. For a marriage of arrangement, that seems absurd.”

“I put it to you that the marriage isn’t one of arrangement anymore.” John’s raised eyebrows made Henry still, his breathing coming in short, stuttered breaths. “Perhaps there is more to the marriage. She has always been the one who caught your interest more than any other. Should I remind you of that night when you broke your rule to dance with her at her debut?”

“Not when I’m watching her dance with another man,” Henry said darkly.

“Shall I talk then of how eager you were to save her reputation by marrying her, despite your endeavor never to marry?”

“Is there a point to all of this?” Henry flicked his head towards his friend.

“I’ll speak plainly.” John cleared his throat and eyed his friend carefully.

“A serious countenance doesn’t suit you, John.”

“Then I’ll speak quickly as well.” John offered a small smile before it faded and went on. “I think you have always had your head turned more by your wife than you wish to admit to yourself.”

Henry said nothing. His hands fidgeted, and he moved from crossing his arms in front of his chest to letting them hang limply at his sides.

“I think it is the truth, and what is so wrong with that if it were the truth.”

“May I remind you of my vow?” Henry murmured.

“Ah, that’s why you seek to deny yourself a happy marriage then,” John said dramatically and shook his head. “May I remind you that your vow was not to have children, to see the end of the dukedom?”

“Yes, it was.”

John rolled his eyes. “Well, we can discuss another time the madness of that particular resolution.” Henry stood taller, feeling a little irritated at his friend. “For now, let us discuss the matter at hand. Just because you have vowed not to have children does not mean you cannot have a happy married life, just like any other married couple. Does it?”

Henry didn’t answer.

“I thought that might catch your interest.” John allowed himself a small smile at last. “You can still have a wife, Henry. You never know, it may even be a wife that you love, if you give yourself a chance to feel it.” He clapped Henry on the shoulder in comfort. That action was so sudden that Henry was shaken by it and jolted off the wall as if he had come out of some hypnotic trance. “Forgive me whilst I return to my wife. I’m tired of being jealous and watching her dance with a man that is not I.”

John wandered off towards the dancers. As he approached, his wife looked at him and smiled, clearly enamored of him.

Henry turned his eyes on Isabella, thinking of what his friend had said. It was true there were certainly ways for him and Isabella to be together without facing the risk of having a child. With such a possibility there, would it be so awful to let himself admit he was jealous of seeing her with Mr. Rufford? Would it be so bad to know the truth, that he cared for her, and it was a much deeper feeling than that of friendship or mere respect?

The music ended, and the dancing finished. All the couples bowed and curtsied to one another. As John took to the floor and collected his wife, he returned her to the middle, clearly eager to dance with her himself.

Henry knew he could have done the same. He could have persuaded Isabella to dance with him, but what he had in mind was far more intimate than a dance.

I do not wish to be around these other men. Not anymore. I need to be with her openly, and alone.

He pushed off the wall, then strode towards the dancers. Mr. Rufford was leading Isabella away from the dance floor. When her eyes caught Henry’s, there seemed to be a triumphant look in her expression.

She did it on purpose, did she not? She wanted to see how I would respond.

“Mr. Rufford?” Henry approached them hurriedly.

“Thank you for lending me your wife, Your Grace,” Mr. Rufford said politely and bowed to him. “I was glad to see her again after all this time.”

“We had a most interesting conversation,” Isabella agreed, holding Henry’s gaze the entire time.

“I am pleased to hear it,” Henry said without feeling. “If you would excuse us, Sir, I must talk to my wife.”

Isabella loosened her hand from Mr. Rufford’s and went to follow her husband, but Henry caught her hand swiftly and took her away, tugging her across the assembly rooms.

“That is a rather insistent grip,” she said with a low chuckle. “Let me guess, you did not enjoy seeing me dance with Mr. Rufford?”

“He was too eager to touch you.” Henry felt the words coming swiftly out of his lips. It angered him just to hear the words. “He was bold!”

“Bold?” Isabella shook her head as she walked beside him. “Hardly as bold as Lady Hampton was this evening.”

Henry led her all the way to the front door of Almack’s assembly rooms.

“Henry, where are we going?”

“We are going home. There is something I must say to you.”