Chapter 15

CHAPTER 15

" L et me help you with that, Your Grace."

"Thank you, Margaret," Arabella smiled and took a step aside, allowing the young maid access to the back of her dress.

Nervously, she shifted, breathing a little unsteadily as Margaret began to lace her up. This was her first opportunity to wear the beautiful dress that Jasper had secretly bought her and she was worried that she might not like it as much once she saw it on her.

How could it possibly live up to how beautiful it had looked in the window of the shop?

"That's all done," Margaret said, stepping away.

Arabella took a deep breath. Then, putting a hand on her stomach, she turned to face the mirror.

Margaret let out a soft gasp. "You look beautiful, Your Grace."

"I – thank you," Arabella stammered. Her eyes were wide, staring back at herself in amazement. She was having difficulty understanding what she was seeing. This beautiful dress…it was still beautiful. It still looked as lovely as it had in the window of the shop.

As she shifted from side to side, the dress swished with the movement. The beautiful colors shimmered in the fading evening light that crept across the floor of her bedroom.

Peggy would have also looked lovely in this dress. But here and now, looking at herself in a new light, Arabella felt a surge of confidence that she had never before felt. It was as if something deep inside her had shifted and she now had been given permission to see herself as beautiful.

Tears welled up in her eyes. Strangely, there was only one person to thank for such a revelation. One person who had gifted her the opportunity to feel as she did now: Jasper.

Relieved and filled with renewed gratitude, Arabella beamed. She thanked Margaret once more and then headed for the door.

The third ball of the Season. This would be her first outing as duchess. Her first chance to show the ton that she knew what was expected of her. Her first chance to show Jasper that she had been paying attention to her duties.

It would also be her first ball as a married woman. She hardly knew what was expected of her in that sense. Especially when it came to Jasper.

He still kept his distance physically. Though she felt as if some of the metaphorical walls around him had begun to fall, he still was quite clear about the physical boundary between them.

But at the ball, would he be expected to dance with her?

Though Arabella secretly admitted that she would like to do so, she could not imagine Jasper asking her to dance. Why would he, when lesser, more brief touches had made him grow suddenly cold and distant? Why would he spend an entire dance touching her?

Once again, Arabella found it difficult not to believe that he was repulsed by her physical appearance. There was no other explanation for it.

Her spirits sagging a little at that thought, Arabella forced herself down the stairs, heading toward the door.

At the bottom waited Jasper. When he glanced up, Arabella watched several quick emotions pass over her face. But, other than surprise, she had trouble placing them.

As she came to a halt before him, she found him watching her in astonishment. "Does it look all right?" she asked. "If it is not appropriate, I will change. It will not take long –"

"No," he said quickly and, perhaps, a little too loudly. Arabella frowned. She could feel her face growing hot. Rarely had she seen him be so adamant about anything.

But she had to be sure. She could not afford to put a foot wrong tonight. "You are certain it is suitable?"

"It is not a matter of suitability," he hurried to say. His tone was cold, but he shifted, moving somewhat agitatedly. "We simply do not have the time for you to change."

Arabelle opened her mouth to protest, but Jasper cut her off. "The dress will suit," he assured her, a little quieter this time.

Arabella was still blushing, though she hardly knew why. He was saying nothing that should make her react so. But it was the intensity of his gaze which made her squirm. There was something in it that she had never seen before.

Jasper eyed her with slightly narrowed eyes for a moment more. Then, he was starting toward the door.

The carriage waited for them outside and, as the couple neared it, Arabella found herself suddenly caught off guard. Out of nowhere, Jasper's hand was suddenly closing around hers. As he stopped before the carriage, he helped her up, his firm grip steadying her as she took her seat.

Then, as quickly as it had come, the moment passed. Jasper retreated to the other side of the carriage, and his gloved hands fell to his sides.

It had happened so fast, Arabella briefly wondered if she had imagined it. But her hand, still tingling from the sensation of his grasp, told her that it had been real.

Jasper flexed his hand. "Are you looking forward to the evening?" he asked Arabella as the carriage lurched into motion.

His wife began to reply, but Jasper was having trouble concentrating on her answer. Instead, all he could think about was the fact that his body was warm. His heart was beating normally. His chest rose and fell at a regular rate.

Jasper had, unthinkingly, helped his wife into the carriage and, afterward, had experienced none of the usual consequences for having touched her.

It was unthinkable. And, yet, he reminded himself that it had not been the first time. The night they met he had been able to touch her face with his bare hand without going cold. He had originally assumed that it had been a solitary singularity – an outcome of the sudden surprise of having Arabella fall on top of him.

But this proved otherwise.

"And you?"

Jasper blinked, trying to bring his thoughts back to the present. "I, I am never terribly eager to attend a ball," he admitted.

Arabella smiled and Jasper's mouth went dry. She was stunning. When she had descended the stairs of the manor, dressed in that gown, Jasper had forgotten how to speak.

The color of it perfectly matched her eyes.

Even now, just looking at her in that beautiful dress which seemed to accentuate her already entrancing natural beauty, Jasper was having trouble forming a coherent thought.

"I suppose even the duke must sometimes do things that he does not wish to," she mused. But it was not a condemnation. She said it gently as if she were beginning to understand some of his burden of responsibility.

This was a change. Just a few days ago, she might have delivered that statement with a much harsher undertone.

But before he had the chance to dwell on that further, they had arrived.

Alighting from the carriage, Jasper took a deep breath. He had not lied. He did not particularly enjoy such occasions. In a crowded ballroom, people bumped into one another, they stood a little closer than would be appropriate anywhere else, and everyone was expected to dance at least once in the evening. For a man like Jasper, none of this was very appealing.

But as Arabella came to stand beside him, Jasper watched her survey the manor with a similar hesitation.

"You are a duchess," he reminded her. "You may do and say as you see fit. The others will follow your lead, not the other way around."

This seemed to comfort her a little. Arabella nodded and took a moment to gather herself. Then, she shot him a small smile. "Shall we, Your Grace?"

Leading the way, Jasper climbed the steps of the manor and stepped into the main hall.

At once, the laughter and conversation of the large party gathered inside washed over the newcomers like a wave. And, as soon as they were in, several heads turned toward them.

In an instant, a whisper raced through the crowd and the next moment, all eyes were on them.

Jasper had expected this. This was the first social appearance of the duke and his new wife. When he shot a glance at Arabella, he saw that, though her face was a little paler than usual, she wore a polite smile and stood tall, her shoulder thrown confidently back.

Good. When he had begun to acquaint her with her new duties as duchess, this had been the most important: she must look cool and confident at all times. No matter what was going on beneath the surface, she needed to show elegance, grace, and composure at all times.

Satisfied that Arabella understood her obligations for the evening, Jasper began to lead her through the crowd.

Then, he heard a familiar voice. "Your Grace," a man called. Then, a moment later, a tall, lean man was making his way through the crowd toward them.

Jasper smiled politely in greeting as the newcomer stopped before him. He knew better than to try and shake Jasper's hand. "Your Grace, it is very good to see you," the man said, grinning at both the duke and duchess. "And you, Your Grace. Though, if you will allow me, I would like to steal your husband away for a moment. I have a matter of business which I would like to get his advice on. I shall only take him from you for a moment," he assured her with a laugh.

Though Arabella grew a little paler at the suggestion, she nodded and smiled. "Of course. Take as long as you need."

Jasper was not entirely happy about having to leave her here alone. It was clear that she was intimidated by the prospect. And he wanted to keep an eye on her to make sure she was being treated well by the others in attendance tonight.

After overhearing those women gossiping about her at the dress shop, Jasper had realized that his wife had been the subject of much scorn and speculation. Reginald had mentioned, of course, that her family was disregarded by much of the ton because of their eldest daughter's choice of husband, but he hadn't realized just how much mockery they truly faced until he had overheard it for himself.

Still, if his advice was needed by a friend, Jasper could not say no. "I shall return in a moment," he told Arabella.

Then, stepping away, he allowed the man to lead him down the hall.

Arabella was alone. In the midst of an enormous crowd. All of whom were now watching her with concern, apprehension, or thinly veiled contempt.

She took a deep breath and tried to take stock of the situation. It was her duty to remain composed. Thinking back, she reminded herself of what Jasper had taught her. Then, keeping her head high, she made her way into the ballroom and glanced around for someone that she knew. The sooner she could engage in conversation, the faster everyone else would lose interest in her.

The worst thing she could do would be to stand here alone, looking as if no one wanted to speak to her. People would instantly assume that she was being snubbed for some reason and would quickly follow suit.

But, as she hurriedly looked for a familiar face, she was approached by the last person in the world she wished to speak with.

"Your Grace, what a pleasure to see you here tonight." Reginald spoke loudly as he approached her, putting on a show for everyone within hearing. But, as he drew closer, he lowered his voice. "What, have you already abandoned your husband?" he growled. "You are no longer unattached. See that you behave as such."

"My husband, for your information, has gone to speak with someone on a matter of business," Arabella informed him quietly.

"And what is this?" he asked, eyeing her dress skeptically. "This gown is overly gregarious. It is as if you wish to draw unwelcome attention to yourself!" Reginold sighed as if she were the most witless woman in the world. "You may no longer use your family's ignorance as an excuse for your own incompetence. They may not know what is expected in high society –"

"Forgive me, Mr. Hackerman," Arabella said, cutting him off. She kept her tone even though her temper was smoldering. "But I believe I am acting exactly as I should. I have studied what is expected of me, and I have discovered something. A duchess is expected to set the rules of fashion, not follow them. This dress, you should know, was the newest fashion in the shop. Imported from France, I believe. And, the most expensive."

"You should not have asked such an extravagance of your husband," Reginald countered. "Excessive spending –"

"I will have you know that my husband purchased it for me of his own accord. He noted my interest in it and so he bought it for me." Arabella kept a smile plastered on her face, but her tone was as hard as stone. "Perhaps you should not make assumptions, Lord Barrington. Lest you betray your own ignorance."

As Reginald opened his mouth to reply, eyes flashing with outrage, Arabella continued. "I am a duchess. I know what is expected of me, and I have behaved accordingly. Nor have I forgotten my place. But you, it would seem, out to be reminded of yours."

Just then, Jasper reappeared, scanning the room quickly before spotting her and starting toward his wife and uncle.

As the duke approached, Reginald swallowed whatever scathing retort he was preparing. Satisfied, Arabella smiled and turned to greet her husband.

"Ah, Uncle. Good evening."

"Good evening, Your Grace." Reginald greeted his nephew civilly, but Jasper couldn't help but note the subtle annoyance in his tone. Jasper glanced between his wife and uncle. What had they been speaking about?

"I trust your discussion was successful?" Arabella asked.

Jasper nodded. "Indeed. I hope my advice will be of service to the man. It can be difficult to ascertain whether or not a business venture is worthwhile."

As Arabella nodded, dissonant musical notes suddenly filled the room. The musicians were tuning their instruments. The first dance was about to begin.

When Jasper glanced back at Arabella, he saw her watching the gathering couples with envy. "It would be appropriate for the duke and duchess to join in a dance or two, would it not?" she asked him hopefully.

Heart sinking, Jasper glanced around. The couples were gathering at the center of the room, lining up in rows across from one another. He knew the dance they were about to perform. He was skilled at it too. As a young boy, Reginald had ensured that Jasper learned to be proficient in a multitude of different dances.

That was not the issue. Glancing down, Jasper turned his hands over, watching as the bare skin on the back of his hands smoothed and wrinkled as he flexed his fingers. He had taken off his gloves. Indeed, it would be a slight to his wife to now put them on in order to dance with her.

But when he glanced back at Arabella, she was looking at the waiting dancers with such admiration that Jasper knew he could not tell her no.

Against his better judgement, he stepped back and offered his hand to his wife. "Arabella, might I have this dance?"

Grinning widely, Arabella nodded. Then, hesitating just a moment and looking to him as if to ensure that it was all right, she took his hand.

Jasper took a deep breath, his fingers closing over hers. So far so good.

Leading her out onto the dance floor, they took their place amidst the other couples. Several people watched them with keen interest. This did not lessen Jasper's anxieties in the slightest. Many more people would see, now, if he were to experience his usual symptoms. And, if his condition did act up in front of all these people, the gossip and rumors that followed would be vicious.

As the music began, Jasper offered his hand to Arabella once more. For the first few moments, the couple were silent, following the music and moving in time with the other dancers around them. But, as Jasper continued to remain in control of himself, he began to relax a little.

"You are a skilled dancer," he murmured, drawing a little closer to Arabella.

She smiled, embarrassed. "You are kind to say so. I fear it took many years for me to learn. I spent the first two years trying to differentiate between my right and left feet."

Jasper laughed and Arabella's smile widened. "I trust you are now acquainted with which foot is which?" he teased.

"I am, thankfully."

They separated for a moment, circling around the dancers to each of their rights, and then meeting again in the middle. "Thank you for asking me to dance," Arabella said. "I did not have much of an opportunity to do so previously."

As her smile faltered a little, Jasper understood. No one had wanted to dance with her because of her family's reputation. How many times, he wondered, had she attended balls like this simply to stand in the corner and watch the other dancers with envy?

His heart ached for her at the thought. "I am the one who should be grateful," he replied. "I have the most beautiful dance partner of the evening. If any man had missed an opportunity to dance with you before," he added, glancing around them, "I am sure they are now regretting it terribly."

At his praise, Arabella flushed. She smiled, ducking her head a little. "I think, if I am being watched with envy, it is because most of the women here would rather be in my position."

The music swelled and Jasper took Arabella's other hand, pulling her closer to them as the other couples followed suit. But Jasper paid them no mind. Indeed, he and Arabella might as well have been the only two people in the room. The only two people on earth.

Her delicate hands were warm in his. Her smile lit up something within him as she allowed him to draw her near. "You do look beautiful," he murmured, his gaze travelling over every inch of her face.

Arabella's lips parted ever so slightly. They were soft and pink, and he imagined her dewy breath brushing delicately over them. "You really think so?" she murmured.

In that moment, Jasper could see how much his words had affected her. She wanted him to tell her that she was beautiful. And he was only too happy to oblige. After all, it was only the truth.

Stepping closer, he brought himself as close to her as he dared. He gently squeezed Arabella's hands in his. "You are beautiful ," he repeated.

Arabella raised her face to his. Jasper gazed down at her with a tenderness he had never before felt. The strength of it took him by surprise. The music of the dance swelled one final time.

And then, as Arabella opened her mouth to speak, the dance ended.

"Well done," beamed the older man standing beside Jasper. He clapped along with everyone else, thanking the musicians and fellow dancers for their efforts. "You two make a stunning pair."

As Arabella took a small step away from him, Jasper turned to the man. "Thank you. It is the perfect evening for a ball, is it not?"

"Indeed, it is. Though some of us are rather luckier in our partners than others," he added, grinning at Arabella in a way that Jasper did not particularly like.

As Jasper led Arabella to the edge of the room, the older gentleman followed. "Lord Fitzroy, Your Grace. Pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Before Jasper could do anything, Fitzroy reached out and grabbed his hand, shaking it with unnecessary vigor.

All at once, Jasper was nauseous. His head pounded as a cold clamminess descended over him. And, as Lord Fitzroy released him, the familiar, unsettling symptoms persisted.

Instantly, Jasper was filled with the need to rid himself of this man's touch. He needed to wash his hands. To wipe away this horrible sensation.

But as he began to plan his escape, Lord Fitzroy turned to Arabella. "Your Grace, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance as well. I have heard of the duchess's beauty, but I now see that all praise falls short. How could words describe such perfection?"

Arabella smiled graciously. "You are most kind, Lord Fitzroy. Are you enjoying the evening?"

As Jasper watched, the older man's eyes travelled up and down Arabella with a keen hunger. All at once, Jasper was hit with another wave of displeasure. But this was not his condition.

"I find myself enjoying it all the more in present company," Lord Fitzroy grinned. "Though I might find myself the happiest of the men in town if I had the pleasure of joining the duchess for –"

Something in Jasper clicked. Pushing aside his condition, he stepped forward, taking Arabella's hand in his. "I believe the next dance is about to begin," he informed her, cutting off Lord Fitzroy. Then he turned to the offending man. "I hope you will excuse us. My wife has promised me the next dance."

Lord Fitzroy's smile only faltered for a moment. "Of course, Your Grace."

As he stepped aside, Jasper struggled against a growing, angry sensation that welled within him. He did not quite understand what it was. All he knew was that he needed to get Arabella away from this man immediately. Not for her sake, however, but his own.

Though Arabella looked up at him quizzically, she happily joined him again on the dance floor.

Her hand in his, Jasper's blood began to warm. Risking one last scathing glance back at Lord Fitzroy, Jasper stepped closer to his wife and began to dance.