Chapter 15

CHAPTER 15

" O h sweetheart, you look perfect," Aunt Felicity cooed as Lavinia reached the bottom of the stairs.

Lavinia looked down at the new red dress Madame Vandeleur had made for her. The dress was truly a work of art and she now believed all of the fuss about the Frenchwoman.

She had succeeded in making her look sensual.

The red fabric clung to her body and had a low square neckline that showed off her cleavage. It had small cap sleeves, a high waistline and it split open to reveal an inner paler red fabric. Her lady's maid had also done wonders with her hair, twisting it into a complicated updo woven with jewelry that glittered in her hair. The white kid gloves that stretched up above her elbows made a startling contrast with the white.

She had taken care with her appearance tonight and the dress gave her a necessary boost of confidence.

And it wasn't because of the Duke. She was just in the mood to dazzle tonight. That was all.

"Thank you, Aunt."

"You seem rather excited to be going to the ball tonight," Lady Hartfield slanted her a sly glance, "I vividly you remember dragging your heel against being forced to wear uncomfortable corsets and associate with the ton ."

Her cheeks went ruddy, "what can I say? I have become accustomed to the life."

"Accustomed," her aunt echoed, a dimple peeking out of one cheek, "are you sure it has nothing to do with a certain duke?"

She cleared her throat and tried to look anywhere but at the knowing eyes staring at her, "I still think the entire ton and the stifling rules are ridiculous."

With a chuckle and a glance that told Lavinia that her aunt had clearly noted her quick topic change and she was hardly done with the topic, she turned for the front door. "Well, soon you shall be a duchess and then, you may choose the rules you wish to follow."

"I hardly think I shall be free to ride through the park in breeches and seated astride. As a matter of fact," Lavinia continued while trailing the other woman out of the house, "I believe that there shall be even more rules for me to follow. I have never been so ogled in my life as I have been these past few days. How then am I expected to be anything but perfect while I am being so closely watched? It is enough to drive one insane."

Lady Hartfield shook her head fondly, "only you, Lavvie, would dare complain about becoming a duchess."

"I am sure all of the duchesses of the world have all complained at one time or another," she shrugged.

Her aunt chuckled, "in that case, let us be on our way then or we may be past being fashionably late."

Noah gaped at her as he stumbled upon them in his own evening clothes, "God, Lavvie, you look- you look-"

She laughed when his words trailed off, delighted by his speechlessness.

"I cannot wait to see the Duke's reaction," her cousin crowed.

"And the rest of the ton's ," his mother added conspiratorially.

Noah held out both his arms and said as regally as he could, "My ladies."

Dalton house was one of the largest houses in the city, with elaborate columns in front and a long staircase leading up to the front double doors.

The Hartfield carriage drew to a stop right at the foot of that staircase and Noah jumped down from the vehicle, releasing the carriage stairs and helping the ladies to descend.

The Daltons threw some of the most exclusive parties and luckily, Lavinia's new association with the Duke had made her a bit of a hot commodity, the invitations piling up in the tray in the front hall.

"Lady Hartfield, Lord Thornton, and Miss Lavinia Proctor," the liveried man announced, causing all eyes to swing towards them.

And then her family stepped aside to allow Lavinia to precede them. Shocked gasps and whispers tore through the crowd as the lady in red was revealed. Keeping her eyes forward and her shoulders squared, she began to descend the short stairs into the ballroom.

At the bottom of the stairs, she took one purposeful step to the side, right under the chandelier hanging there. Madame Vandeleur's genius was revealed as the dress came to life, sparkling and glittering, the hand-sewn beads that had been stitched into the dress catching the light.

"What an entrance," Noah whispered at her, "I did not think you had it in you."

Lavinia was barely listening to him, instead her focus was on the man across from the room who hadn't yet taken his eyes off her, not even once. Even from a distance, his gaze still had the power to disarm her completely.

She watched him throw back the contents of his glass before peeling away from the men standing with him.

He stalked towards her, a predator who had just caught sight of its prey. Excitement and a hint of danger spiked inside her while she tried to appear unaffected.

"Are you even listening to me?" Her cousin's voice snapped her out of her thoughts and she looked over at him to see her staring down at her with amusement. "You can at least try to make it less obvious that you feel something for him," then he looked over at the approaching man and chuckled. "Between the both of you, I don't know who is more obvious."

She cleared her throat and looked away, "it's not what you think."

"What do you mean?"

But the Duke of Wyld had already caught up to them.

"Your Grace," Noah bowed smartly and then disappeared into the crowd. She guessed it was to meet those dull never-to-do-wells.

Lady Hartfield and Lavinia dropped into a deep curtsy, "Your Grace."

He nodded at their show of deference, but his gaze still held Lavinia's captive, "you are breathtaking."

"All thanks to the modiste," she laughed.

"It's not her, it is you," he said in a voice that was too low for the older woman at her side to overhear. "Yes, the dress is stunning, but it takes a beautiful woman to turn a good dress into art."

"Are you saying I look like art right now?"

He took her hand in his, holding it out, his large hands dwarfing hers. She wondered what those hands would feel like holding hers without the barrier of their gloves.

And then he bent over her hand and skimmed his lips over the back of her hand, "your first waltz is mine."

The possessiveness in his voice did something to her. A flash of heat raced down her spine and she bit down on her bottom lip.

"It'll be a real struggle to keep my dance card from being filled up," she teased.

"Mine," he reiterated before walking away. She watched him go and only when he disappeared into the crowd did she look away. And it was just in time too, because Jenny appeared at her side the next moment, looking a tad pale.

"You, my friend, have been holding out on me," she chided, then ran a wide eyed stare down her frame. "That dress is divine and you wear it so well. Oh, Lavvie, you look so gorgeous, I barely even recognize you, and yes, I know that I could barely recognize my own self in the mirror without my spectacles."

She smiled at the other girl. "How are you feeling now? I do hope you're better."

"Much," Jenny said then peered over at Lady Hartfield. "My lady, I did not see you there."

"It's quite alright, Jenny," Lavinia's aunt said, "I hear you were down with the cold."

"Much recovered now," she told her before turning back to Lavinia. "I have a lot of catching up to do and you are going to tell me everything."

Their arms linked together, they excused themselves for a turn about the room. "Imagine my surprise when I left my house and could not stop hearing about you and the Duke!"

Lavinia glanced in either direction before pulling her friend into an empty hallway, "I am sorry that I did not write you about it. I wanted to explain everything to you, but I did not know where or how to start."

"You feel for him?"

Why did everyone keep on asking her that? Well, she had long been an advocate of only ever marrying for love and had been very vocal about it to those close to her, which by the way only consisted of her family and Jenny.

Lavinia felt hope about the progression of her relationship with the Duke. She could safely say they were friends now, or even something more than friends. There was no use telling Jenny the entire plot, maybe sometime in future she would laugh about how they begun.

"I-I do," she croaked but it was the first time she had allowed herself to believe that she felt something for him.

And that look in his eyes earlier had been worth the time it had taken her lady's maid to get her ready.

The red headed girl squealed and Lavinia was quick to slap a hand over her mouth, "shush."

Jenny pushed her hand away. "This is far too exciting for me to stay quiet about it. Imagine being able to say I am friends with a duchess. I will be the godmother to your son. A godmother to a duke!"

It was at that point that Lavinia's smile stiffened, because despite the progress they were making, there had been a marked absence of the devouring kisses or even any kisses at all. The heat and tension she now recognized as desire was still very much alive between them, but it seemed he was devoutly keeping to his rule of never touching her.

Which had to mean that he was touching someone else.

Her stomach churned with discomfort and she shied away from the thought.

"You are ridiculous," Lavinia rolled her eyes, "the dowager duchess does not like me and I wonder if she will allow the marriage to happen."

"If the Duke wants you enough, then Her Grace's opinion should not matter," she declared firmly.

With a laugh that she didn't really feel, Lavinia led them back to the crowded ballroom and in minutes, she had gathered quite a slew of admirers, much to the other ladies' annoyance.

Usually, she would hate being the center of such attention, but this time around, she was completely at ease and it had a lot to do with the fact that most of the men were there to flirt harmlessly, knowing fully well that she was to be married to the Duke and there was no need to try and compete with such a man.

Without the strain of the marriage mart and the expectations hanging over her head, she was able to enjoy conversations with them and best of all, she managed to get the red head to say more than three words to the gentlemen.

"Where have you been hiding yourself, my lady?" one of the men asked.

"Where gentlemen with such sugary tongues could not find me," she quipped causing them to explode with laughter.

"You are a delight, Miss Proctor," another praised. "Allow me to call on you tomorrow."

"I am not any fun when I do not have a ball dress and jewels on."

"I'll drape you in jewels for the rest of your life m'lady."

She smiled at him, "I plan to live a very long life and I'm afraid you would have run out of jewels before I ran out of life."

"I have never envied the Duke of Wyld up until this very moment," another said with a slight pout. "Do consider me if you decide he's not nearly good enough for you."

"Certainly, Lord Pembrooke," she tilted her head at him with her lips curled up into a small smile that the gossip rags would later go to describe as 'a smile that is full of secrets.'

While she delivered sharp but amusing retorts to her new admirers, she felt the weight of the Duke's eye between her shoulder blades and she wondered if she were the only one counting down the seconds till it was time for their dance.