Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

Dorian did not let go of her hand until they reached the very center of the ballroom, and only then did he release her from his grasp. His gaze held hers as he stepped back just enough to execute a respectful bow. She bobbed a curtsy in return.

As the orchestra struck the first notes of a waltz, Dorian extended his hand once more, and she took it.

It had been a long time since he had danced, and admittedly, he had not been overly skilled at it to begin with, but if Lady Eleanor minded, she did not show it.

With an assured grip, he guided her into the first steps. It began with a poised promenade, as if walking side-by-side through a park. He kept his expression tame, not quite blank but not yet a smile.

Soon, the music picked up and the dance truly began, and Dorian found himself closer to her.

It was not often that someone piqued his interest, and she had done just that. There was something fascinating about her, something he was eager to discover—though reluctantly. He was aware of her discomfort with being so open, so scrutinized, but he could not be sure if it was because of him or her own doubts.

“Tell me, why did you keep your thoughts to yourself with the earl? Why hide them?” he asked as he stepped closer to her, much to her surprise.

Her eyes widened at his proximity, and he would be lying if he said he did not relish it. Dorian placed a gentle hand on the small of her back, barely touching her, as they swayed in tight circles.

Lady Eleanor bit her lower lip, drawing his attention. It was clear she was hesitant to discuss it with him. The thought rolled through her mind until her eyes flicked up to meet his own. Beneath the glow of the chandeliers above, he could see the speckles of gold in her soft brown eyes, behind the thick lenses of her spectacles.

“I was dared to do the opposite of what I would usually do,” she said.

Dorian raised his eyebrows.

Interesting.

“So, if you would say no…”

“I would have no choice but to say yes.” She nodded, her eyes narrowing as she studied his face, as if reading his mind.

Unfortunately for him, the wicked thoughts swirling in his mind seemed to be written plainly on his face, based on the look she gave him. She raised her eyebrows and then rolled her eyes, but there was the faintest spark there. A hint of curiosity.

He was half-tempted to indulge her.

“Focus on me,” he said when he noticed her eyes dart to the semi-circle that had formed around the center of the room—around them.

There were many people watching, many hushed whispers. Dorian felt a sudden pang of guilt as he wondered what would be said about her after. He had not considered this sooner.

“Forgive me, I did not take into account the rumors that will likely be whispered and spread,” he murmured, his voice taking on a slight edge.

He meant it.

“I fear I am just as responsible,” she said with a small, uncomfortable smile.

Dorian tilted his head to the side. “And why is that?”

“I have not danced before,” she admitted with a smile.

He raised an eyebrow, swaying with her to the music. “Never? But you dance beautifully. So why not?”

“I had yet to find a man who was intellectually stimulating enough to serve as my partner,” she quipped, but he found that he believed her. There was a flicker of amusement in her eyes.

Dorian arched an eyebrow. “And you find me to be stimulating enough for you, Lady Eleanor?”

“My reply might be affected by the dare, Your Grace.”

Dorian could not contain his smirk. “Humor me.”

“It could be that I find you quite stimulating. Or perhaps I am simply too dedicated to the silly, little dares among friends… and I had to say yes to a dance I’d normally deny,” she said with a tilt of her head, her eyes gleaming. “I am afraid that you shall never know which one is true.”

Dorian let out a small chuckle, twirling her as the music crescendoed. They swayed faster now. Lady Eleanor did not look away from him once as they danced, but it was not in the same way that he was accustomed to when it came to women. No, this was not merely flirting and romantic fascination. The way she looked at him, it was a curiosity, a dare in itself.

Dorian had heard the rumors about him—some of which were true. But it seemed very apparent to him that Lady Eleanor did not fear him—not entirely, otherwise he was sure she would have refused the dance with him.

He did not know the reasoning behind it. Perhaps she was mad, too, or brave in a life-threatening way. Looking down at her now, seeing the spark in her eyes as they twirled about the dancefloor, he was almost certain she could be both.

“Whatever the case, Lady Eleanor, we should take full advantage of this dare before the night is over,” he suggested with a wicked smile, one that seemingly caught her off guard.

Then, the music ended.

For a moment, they stayed in position. He almost did not wish to let her go. While still holding her hand, he stepped back from her and bowed. Then he slowly raised her hand to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to the back of it.

Her eyes grew wide, but she maintained her composure.

Dorian executed another bow. “Come, Lady Eleanor, I shall escort you back to your friends,” he said as he offered her his arm.

She hesitated for a moment, her eyes darting around them as she noticed their audience. He could see a delicious flush rise against her pale skin, starting at her chest and creeping up her cheeks.

He could not help but let his gaze linger on the flush spreading across her skin, his mind turning over the various ways he could evoke such a shade again. A touch, perhaps? He could imagine trailing his fingertips over her skin, seeing the color rush to the surface.

“You are staring.” Lady Eleanor’s eyes flashed up toward him, though she did not turn her face in his direction.. Her expression remained placid, but her voice gave it all away.

An unavoidable smirk tugged at his lips. “It is a lovely shade on you.”

“What is?”

“That blush,” he teased as he turned his gaze away.

Lady Eleanor took his arm, though he was almost sure it was only to steady herself. That sweet shade of red only seemed to deepen.

As they walked back to the others, Eleanor could swear that the entire party could hear the thunderous beating of her heart. Her blood heated up beneath the surface, covering her in a flush that she begged would subside. But it did not.

Walking side-by-side with the Mad Duke, she could feel his presence bearing down on her, threatening to crush her beneath him. A thought of being beneath him flashed in her mind then, and her breath hitched. She struggled to compose herself. She was sure there were already countless rumors and bits of gossip being spread around, she did not need to add fuel to those flames with her expressions.

His arm, linked with her own, was the only thing steadying her as her mind threatened to wander. How scandalous it was, and how unexpected, and yet she found herself all too curious about her own thoughts. But those thoughts, she decided, would have to wait to be explored.

She did not look at him as they strode, though the urge was there. His words were echoing in her mind, and she was still trying to make sense of them.

What did he mean by take full advantage?

And even more so, why was she tempted by the idea?

The Mad Duke leaned in, his breath hot on her ear, his voice a low rumble that set her blood on fire. A strange sensation rippled through her, one she had not felt before. “Meet me on the balcony in ten minutes.”

And with that, he released her arm and walked away.

Eleanor stood there for a moment, dazed, and then she turned to look for him, but he was already out of sight. The party had returned to life, roaring even louder than before. She walked the remaining way to the refreshments table, trying to maintain some sense of composure.

“Lady Eleanor, are you all right?” Nicholas asked, stepping toward her.

Eleanor could not summon a response, so she turned her gaze to Celia for help. Wordlessly, she pleaded for a means of escape.

Celia put her drink down on the table and rushed to Eleanor’s side immediately, her brow etched with concern as she wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “You look positively parched, Eleanor,” she noted, her voice laced with concern.

“Very much so,” Eleanor agreed.

Celia nodded and then she looked at Nicholas. “My lord, I do not wish to be a burden, but could you fetch Lady Eleanor some water? Fresh.”

Nicholas looked at Eleanor and then back at Celia. “Of course.”

Relief flooded through Eleanor as she watched him walk away. She was of no sound mind to have a discussion with a man like him now.

She straightened and turned to her friends, who had all gathered around her, concerned yet curious. And how could she blame them for that?

“Eleanor,” Diana said in a hushed voice, her eyes wide.

Eleanor blinked and tilted her head. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“This entire time, you could dance?”

Grace stepped forward with an incredulous look. “And well.”

There was more they wished to say, it was evident by the looks on their faces. But at that moment, mercifully, they did not press her.

Eleanor smiled kindly at their shocked faces and nodded.

She stepped closer to the table, pretending to take an interest in one of the pastries, all the while trying to calm her nerves. Her mind was darting from this very spot to the mentioned balcony.

Go there, alone with him?

“What did he say to you?” Celia asked, sidling up to her.

Eleanor hesitated. “To meet him on the balcony. Why would he?”

Celia blinked and shook her head slowly, her eyes narrowing. “Are you saying you do not wish to go, Eleanor? I watched you both there—you could not stop staring at each other.”

Eleanor had only maintained eye contact to keep her composure. During the dance, Dorian had been an excellent distraction, and she had found their banter to be almost charming. But it was not more than that.

“I want to⁠—”

“Does he frighten you? Or are you not interested in him at all?”

“It is completely improper, Celia. You and I both know what would happen if I were to be caught,” Eleanor said in a hushed voice, her eyes focusing on another glass of champagne. She already had enough, yet she was almost tempted to use it as some sort of courage potion.

Ceila raised her eyebrows, tilting her head. “Eleanor, how scandalous,” she teased. “But you know this is not what I’m asking.”

Eleanor flushed, and then, with a deep breath, she looked up at the ceiling. Beams stretched across the ceiling, painted in a dull, golden color accented with floral patterns.

“I am intrigued,” she admitted.

Ceila nodded. “Then go. When will you have a chance like this again? I will keep an eye on things, to ensure you are safe and free from any scandal.”

Eleanor frowned. She wasn’t worried about the duke hurting her, not really. The way he looked at her, she was certain he meant no harm. Clenching her fists, she thought of the dare and then settled the matter in her mind.

She turned to Celia. “I will return shortly.”