Chapter 28

Chapter 28

Lydia’s nerves did not fully set in until she saw him across the ballroom. Weston, as always, looked breathtakingly handsome. She expected nothing less. His large frame stood a head taller than those around him, and a small crowd of undoubtedly eligible young ladies were encircling him.

It was like a flashback happening right before her eyes. Weston did not seem the slightest bit interested in any of them. No, his gaze seemed to be searching for her just as she was searching for him.

She lingered, waiting for his beautiful eyes to find her, that familiar tendril of heat curling low in her belly the moment that she felt him looking at her. A soft, knowing smile on her face that echoed the one on his own. It was as if he could read her mind despite the distance between them. His gaze raked over her figure, from her neck to her chest, to the curve of her waist, and her heart fluttered in her chest. He was not even touching her. Not physically.

Weston’s head tilted to the side, indicating that she should head that way, and she was only too happy to oblige. Her pulse spiked the closer that she made it to where he was slowly walking to meet her. Behind him, those who had been trying to speak to him were now pouting that he had dismissed them so quickly. Petty, perhaps, but it made her feel just that much more desired.

Whispers gathered as she found him while still wearing her black mourning dress. But Weston clearly paid them no mind as he offered her his hand. Well, they could speculate all that they liked. Lydia was not going to give them any more fuel for their gossip. It was not as if they had not danced before.

She could not have named the moment where words no longer felt needed between them, but it was only too easy to accept his invitation to dance. It was almost as if they were rewriting their own history. Those moments from before that had been a focal point of all of her dreams being overlain by this very moment.

Weston’s hand was warm and steady as she delicately placed her own in his. The callouses from many years of trained swordsmanship grated against the satin of her glove. She longed to feel his rough palms against her bare skin. Patience, she needed to remind herself to be patient.

Her skin burned everywhere that he touched her, even the soft and respectable hold that he placed on her waist. They moved together for the first part of the song, separating and spinning with the others on the dance floor as the song moved from one stanza to the next. They could not keep their eyes off of one another.

Kitty was right, she ought not to have waited to find him so long. The only person that was suffering by her clinging to the morals of society was herself. Agreement or no, she should have found him much sooner than this. Perhaps then the desire that moved her would have been slaked at least once or twice.

The dance transitioned into a waltz, and neither one of them made any indication that they should move off of the dance floor. Two dances were certainly not unheard of; it was not scandalous. Lydia was desperate to speak to him, to be closer to him. She wanted to breathe in his scent and bask in his warmth and she certainly did not think that was too much to ask for.

“I have missed you,” Weston said softly the moment he was able to pull her into a waltz position.

For once, Lydia was more than willing to let him lead. Anything to be closer to him. “I am here in front of you and yet you are still too far away.”

Weston chuckled at her words, and she could feel the sound vibrating out of his chest as he pulled her just a bit closer. Any more and the whispers around them were going to grow shocked at her indecency. In the back of her mind, Lydia attempted to weigh whether or not it was going to be worth it to let them talk so that she could get what she wished.

Not at Kitty’s party. She could contain herself for just a little while longer. Could she not?

“Say the word and I shall whisk you out of this room at once.” Weston whispered.

Lydia wished that it had been whispered against the shell of her ear.

Slowly, she lifted her chin to look at him properly, still staring up at him through her lashes. “I was mistaken, I should not have sent you away. The inquest is taking far longer than my patience can allow.”

Weston did not say anything, so she continued to fill the tense silence.

“I know that things are moving forward, and that Cassian’s trial is only a matter of days away. I have full faith that the correct verdict shall be reached once the pair of us testify against him. I just… do not wish to continue to allow Cassian to be the wedge between us. I was frightened, but I am not any longer.”

Weston’s brow arched. “Is that so?”

Lydia pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, dipping her chin into a nod. They moved through the steps of the dance, and his hands never left her again. Every sweep of his fingers against her back, or subtle squeeze to her hip had her heart racing. Her skin felt as if it were on fire. The room ceased to matter. They were the only two on the whole dance floor as far as she was concerned.

“I admit that I have wished to close that gap many times, Lydia… but I have not been idle.”

“Oh?” Lydia asked, unsure if she truly wished to hear what he had been doing. If the answer was anything other than spending sleepless nights with his hand occupied to thoughts of her, she was not sure if she could take it. It was how her nights had been spent. Heatedly writhing on her bed in frustration. No matter how she tried, she could not fall apart by herself at the same intensity as he had done.

“Yes, I have begun the paperwork that will set things right with the estate.” Weston added a touch too casually, looking anywhere other than at her.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Unnecessary,” Weston teased with a smirk. “When the solicitor of the estate is finished drafting everything, it will name you as the sole heir of the house and ensure that Margaret remains in your care. You are her mother. No matter what else happens, I am not the sort of man who will take a bright young lady from the only family that she has left.”

Lydia bit her lip once more to keep from saying that perhaps Weston could become her family too. It was not as if the girls were not both wholly fond of him.

She was going to become even more carried away with herself if she did not stop it.

“Besides, it would only be unfair to take her away? now. She is settled, and that is her home. All of your homes.”

Lydia’s gaze lifted once more. “I feel as if you are leaving something out on purpose.”

Weston’s jaw tensed. “Well, once all of that is handled… I suppose that it would be right for me to return to my own duchy. I have been neglectful of my work during my time here. I have… responsibilities.”

As he spoke, Lydia felt a bubble of panic rising within her. He could not leave. Not now. Not when they were so close. She had confessed that she had been wrong, did he not believe her? Did he not have ample reason to stay? Would she truly be willing to beg him to return to the estate with her?

“I am grateful about the paperwork, Your Grace.” Lydia answered, what else could she say?

“Do not do that, I am not leaving by choice, Lydia.”

She attempted to pull away from him, for she did not wish to cry.

“I would never leave you again by choice.” He said softly, and damn it all, she believed him.

“Then do not go at all.” Lydia’s voice softened. She was pleading. She was surprised that she felt no shame at all in doing so. Whatever his responsibilities might be, whatever duties that he might have they could simply face them together. She knew that she had more than proven herself as being intelligent and capable. Surely, he knew that she would be a boon and not a burden.

Until the moment that it felt like it was going to be removed from her, Lydia had not realized that somewhere in the back of her mind she had begun imagining him in her future. To think that it could all be removed from her so easily, and without even getting what she so desperately desired? She could not stand for it.

“Are you asking me to stay? How very forward of you.” Weston teased.

“I can be far more forward than this.”

She could have sworn that Weston blushed, recalling that she had no issues with making the first move. She knew what she wanted, and it was him.

“I would certainly like nothing better than to allow you to be as forward as you like. As soon as this trial business is over, Lydia, I promise you—I am all yours. I have only, ever, been all yours.”