Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

T he grand drawing room of Lady Weatherby's townhouse was filled with the soft hum of conversation and the rustle of silk dresses.

Anthony stood near the entrance, his expression one of carefully crafted boredom. He tugged at his cravat, feeling the familiar weight of social obligation pressing down on him.

This was the last place he wanted to be, but he knew maintaining the charade of his engagement to Eliza required his presence.

His sister, Phoebe, and her husband William, the Viscount Rutherford, approached him, their faces alight with amusement.

Phoebe, her eyes twinkling mischievously, was the first to speak. "Well, well, well. Look who decided to grace us with his presence at a social event. Wonders never cease."

Anthony groaned, rolling his eyes. "Spare me, Phoebe. I am only here for Eliza's sake."

Phoebe's husband, William, chuckled. "Ah, yes. The charming Miss Huxley. She's certainly managed to do what no one else could—drag you out of your den of iniquity."

Anthony shot him a glare. "Do not start, Rutherford."

Phoebe raised an eyebrow, her smile widening. "From what I hear, you have never attended these events before. Seems this girl has had quite the effect on you."

Anthony crossed his arms, trying to maintain his composure. "Believe what you will."

Phoebe leaned closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "You know, little brother, it's perfectly all right to admit you might actually care for her."

Anthony sighed, exasperated. "Phoebe, enough. I have no time for your romantic notions."

Phoebe laughed, a melodious sound that drew the attention of nearby guests. "Very well, Anthony. We will leave it at that. But mark my words, there's more to this than you are willing to admit."

Anthony groaned again, hoping he came across as sufficiently annoyed. He glanced around the room, searching for Eliza. The only reason to attend a boring musicale, he thought, was to aid his mission of seducing Eliza. At least, he could have fun with her, if nothing else.

"Ah, there she is," Phoebe said, nodding towards the entrance of the ballroom, "We shall leave to attend to your fiancée, then," she added before leaving with William.

When Anthony saw Eliza arrive, he could not take his eyes off her. She wore a deep emerald gown that that molded to her curves so perfectly it stole the breath from his lungs.

She scanned the room, and when her eyes met his, he felt a jolt of desire course through him. God, he wanted her.

Eliza moved with a grace that belied the turmoil he knew she felt inside. As she approached with Lady Lymington, Anthony forced himself to maintain a composed demeanor.

"Miss Huxley, Lady Lymington," he greeted them, his voice smooth and warm. "Good evening."

Lady Lymington nudged her niece, a silent command. Eliza smiled, though it did not quite reach her eyes.

"Good evening, Your Grace," she said. "Are you looking forward to the performance?"

"I believe I shall enjoy myself tonight, yes," he replied.

"Are you familiar with tonight's performer?" Lady Lymington asked. "I have heard Lady Weatherby found this one while traveling in Austria."

"I am not," he told her brusquely and looked back to Eliza.

However, Lady Lymington interjected again. "Eliza, was there not something you had mentioned wanting to ask His Grace this evening?"

Eliza tried not to glare at her aunt before turning to Anthony, knowing better than to defy her aunt in public. "I was hoping we could discuss music. I understand you have quite an appreciation for it."

Anthony raised an eyebrow, amused by the orchestrated conversation. "Indeed, I do. Are there any composers you favor?"

Before Eliza could answer, Lady Lymington interjected, her voice proud. "Eliza is very knowledgeable about them. She has quite a talent for remembering details."

Eliza glanced at her aunt then back at Anthony, and she began to recite something she had clearly memorized. "Beethoven's work is characterized by its emotional depth and complexity. His symphonies, particularly the Ninth, are revolutionary in their structure and impact. Mozart, on the other hand, is celebrated for his melodic genius and the clarity of his compositions. His operas, such as The Magic Flute , are exemplary in their integration of music and drama."

Anthony listened, amused despite himself. He could only guess the duress Eliza had been put under to learn these facts, likely under her aunt's strict supervision. The thought of Lady Lymington mistreating Eliza sent a strange surge of protectiveness through him.

"You are quite well-versed, Miss Huxley," he said, his tone appreciative. "I must say, it is refreshing to meet someone with such a genuine interest in music."

Eliza's smile softened, becoming more genuine. "Thank you, Your Grace. Music has always been a passion of mine."

Before Anthony could respond, a group of women approached them, their expressions a mixture of false smiles and veiled contempt. It was the same group of ladies who had been insulting Eliza at the previous ball.

"Well, well, if it isn't the newly engaged couple," one of them said, her voice dripping with insincerity. Her eyes cut like knives as she looked Eliza up and down. "Congratulations, Miss Huxley. You must be thrilled."

Eliza forced a polite smile, only just barely ignoring their condescension. "Thank you."

Another lady, her eyes narrowed with envy, added, "Yes, such a surprising match. Tell us, Miss Huxley, how did you manage to capture the heart of a duke?"

Anthony sensed Eliza's discomfort and stepped closer to her, his presence protective.

"It is simple," he said smoothly, his eyes locking onto the offending lady. "Eliza's intelligence, kindness, and beauty captured me from the moment we met."

One of the women, unable to resist the opportunity to be cruel, let out a mocking laugh, "Beauty, indeed. Quite a… robust beauty, wouldn't you say?"

The woman looked to Anthony for his agreement which he found utterly perplexing.

Eliza's cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but before she could respond, Anthony took her hand, his gaze fierce.

"I find Eliza breathtaking," he declared, his voice firm. "I consider myself fortunate to have such an extraordinary woman by my side."

The ladies exchanged uncomfortable glances, clearly taken aback by Anthony's ardent defense.

One of them managed a weak smile. "Of course, Your Grace. We meant no offense."

Anthony's eyes remained cold as he responded, "I would appreciate it if you showed my fiancée the respect she deserves."

The women murmured their apologies and quickly excused themselves, leaving Eliza and Anthony standing together. Eliza looked up at Anthony, gratitude and surprise mingling in her gaze.

"You did not have to do that, but thank you," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly.

Anthony's expression softened. "You should know that I meant everything I said."

Eliza met Anthony's gaze and noticed as his eyes flicked down to her lips. And when she licked her lips, the desire to kiss her became almost overwhelming.

The moment was quickly broken, however, by the hostess clinked her glass with a knife. She stepped into the middle of the open floor of the ballroom.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Lady Weatherby said, "I am delighted to share with you tonight the lovely music of one of my favorite musicians. If you would kindly take your seats, we are about to begin the performance."

Anthony guided Eliza to a pair of chairs near the front, his hand resting lightly on the small of her back. They settled into their seats, and as the last of the guests found their places, the room gradually dimmed. The only light now came from the stage, casting the performer in a warm, golden glow.

The music began, a soft and haunting melody that filled the room with its beauty.

Anthony, even if he cared to focus on the music, found his attention was divided. He could feel Eliza's presence beside him, her body a warm pull beside him.

As the performance continued, Anthony's hand moved almost of its own accord, lightly touching Eliza's thigh. He felt her startle slightly at the contact, and a small, involuntary smile played on his lips.

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered, "Are you enjoying the music?"

Eliza nodded, her breath hitching slightly. "Yes, very much."

Anthony's fingers traced small circles on her thigh, his touch both gentle and possessive. "Good," he murmured. "You deserve to enjoy this night."

He felt her shift slightly, her pulse quickening under his touch. He glanced at her, catching the flicker of light from the stage reflected in her eyes.

"Anthony," she whispered, her voice barely audible, "we are in public."

"I know," he replied, his voice low and intimate, "but I cannot seem to keep my hands off you."

Her reaction to his touch was palpable; he could feel her heart racing beneath his fingertips.

The music swelled, filling the darkened room with its emotional crescendo, but Anthony's focus remained on Eliza. He continued to caress her thigh, his touch growing slightly bolder.

He leaned in once more, his breath warm against her ear. "You have no idea how much I desire you," he whispered.

Eliza shuddered next to him, and he saw the skin on her arm rise with goose flesh. He reveled in the knowledge of how he affected her.

The darkness of the room and the music playing created an atmosphere of intimacy and intensity. He sensed her resolve wavering, her body relaxing under his touch.

The performer on stage reached a particularly moving part of the piece, but Anthony's attention was entirely on Eliza. He felt the thrill of anticipation, knowing that he was getting closer to breaking through her defenses. The combination of the haunting melody and the warmth of her skin ignited an unstoppable burn of desire within him.

His fingers continued their gentle caress, and he leaned in even closer, his lips brushing against her ear once more.

"You cannot deny the attraction between us," he murmured, his voice barely audible over the music. "It is only a matter of time."

She suddenly pushed his hand away, her eyes darting to meet his with a look that clearly said, "My aunt is right here. Someone else might see too."

Anthony's smirk only grew. The thrill of the game, the danger of being caught, made it all the more exhilarating.

Instead of pulling back, Anthony laid his hand higher up her thigh, just a fraction, but enough to elicit another small reaction from her. He relished the way her breath hitched, the way her body tensed under his touch.

He leaned in close, his lips brushing against her ear once more.

"Relax, Eliza," he whispered, his voice a low murmur that only she could hear. "No one will notice."

The tension between them crackled; the darkened room and the music only heightening the intensity. Anthony kept his movements subtle, his hand gently resting just below the crease of her hip, the warmth of her skin seeping through the fabric of her dress. He felt her struggle to maintain composure, to keep up the fa?ade of propriety while he teased her under the cover of darkness.

He glanced at Lady Lymington out of the corner of his eye. She was engrossed in the performance, her attention fully on the stage.

Perfect .

Anthony let his fingers brush lightly against Eliza's thigh again, savoring the way she squirmed slightly in her seat. This was a game he was very much enjoying, and he had no intention of stopping anytime soon.

Eliza's eyes flickered back to him; they held a mixture of frustration and need.

His thumb lightly stroked her thigh in a soothing, almost tender manner; he wanted to push her boundaries, to see how far she would let him go. But, he also wanted her to know that he was in control and that he wouldn't let anything bad happen to her.

As the music played on, Anthony leaned in again, his breath warm against her ear.

"Trust me," he whispered, his voice laced with confidence and a hint of challenge. "No one is watching."

Anthony felt a thrill of satisfaction at the frustration evident in Eliza's eyes, relishing the control he held with just a single touch. However, he was completely taken aback when she placed her hand on his thigh, the boldness of the gesture sending a jolt through him.

He had not expected this level of audacity from her, and it made him smile, his desire growing.

This girl was far better than he expected. She was not just reacting to his provocations; she was engaging in them, pushing back with a surprising fierceness. He could feel the warmth of her hand through his trousers. It was a silent declaration that she was not to be underestimated.

Anthony's heart raced, the desire between them thickening the air around them. The combination of the darkened room, the emotive music, and their secretive touches created an intoxicating atmosphere. He could barely focus on the performance, his mind consumed with thoughts of Eliza and the movements of her hand.

If only she'd go a little higher…

Suddenly, the music stopped, the final note hanging in the air before giving way to applause. The room brightened slightly as the performer took a bow.

Both Anthony and Eliza quickly removed their hands from each other, the spell momentarily broken as they both tried to match the applause of the rest of the crowd.

Anthony glanced at her, noting the way she tried to compose herself. Her cheeks were flushed, her breathing a bit uneven, and her eyes still held that fiery defiance, which only made him want her more.

As they joined in the applause, Anthony leaned in once more, his voice low and laced with a hint of amusement. "You are full of surprises, Miss Huxley."

She met his gaze, her eyes flashing with irritation. "You are not the only one that can tease."

Anthony chuckled softly, the sound almost drowned out by the clapping. "Mmhm. I rather like this side of you. Is there more where that came from?"

A reluctant smile tugged at her lips. "Only if you play your cards right, Your Grace."

"Oh, I love a little game," he replied and edged closer, his voice going an octave deeper as he continued, "though I should inform you that I always come out triumphant. But fret not, for in that case, we shall both be the winners."