Chapter 21

CHAPTER 21

L ouise had attended several balls, but nothing quite like this.

Her family had never been exalted enough to receive an invitation to the Barringtons’ ball, and she looked around eagerly as they walked into the room.

The grand ballroom was filled with the crème de la crème of Society. Anybody who wished to make a name for themselves or who already had was in attendance.

The atmosphere inside was lively, a warm ambiance created by the candlelight all around the room. Louise was doubly glad of her beautiful gown, for only the height of fashion was permitted on such an occasion.

Ladies walked ahead of her in every color imaginable. The air was thick with smoke and laughter, and a quadrille was already in full swing.

Louise glanced up at Christian and struggled to breathe. He was the picture of aristocratic arrogance, looking around the room as though everyone in it existed to do his bidding. To her dismay, she observed that fact with something akin to fondness .

He does look impossibly handsome this evening. It is so unfair.

Christian’s arm tightened around her own as they moved through the room. There were a lot of people staring at them or glancing in their direction and then whispering together.

When she had first been labeled as the Iron Harridan, Louise had experienced a great deal of scrutiny, but this was different. Here, people did not look upon her with disdain. They were curious about her, and many appeared in awe of the Duke, who held himself as though he belonged there.

What he must have done to fight for his position, given what his mother told me…

Louise could not imagine how unpleasant it must have been for Marcus and Christian in the beginning—they must have been shunned by more than just her father.

As they reached the edge of the dance floor, the Duke of Stonewell materialized before them. He was dressed as strictly as the other men in the room but had far simpler clothing than Christian. It was clear that the two gentlemen had different tastes in fashion. Christian wore the latest style of everything, experimenting with different colors and looks, whereas the Duke of Stonewell was far more conservative in his appearance.

“Stonewell,” Christian greeted as the two men bowed to one another. “Have you been here for long?”

“Hours. You are very late.” It was clear that Gabriel meant it in jest, although he did not smile at all.

Christian glared at Louise as though his friend were serious.

She sighed wearily and smiled at Gabriel. “Is your sister here tonight?” she asked.

“She is. I believe she is dancing.” Gabriel turned around, his sharp eyes surveying the figures on the dance floor. He nodded at Charlotte, who was speaking merrily with a very tall, red-headed man.

“Waldron is still in pursuit, then,” Christian remarked.

Gabriel’s face darkened. “Not if I have anything to say about it.”

Louise glanced at the man Charlotte was dancing with. He seemed perfectly harmless, but her brother appeared up in arms about it.

“I think I shall go to the refreshments table,” she said. “It is rather stuffy in here.”

She released Christian’s arm, expecting that he would stay and talk to his friend and allow her her freedom, now that she was a married woman. Instead, he immediately moved to follow her.

“It is only a short walk away, Christian. You should stay and speak with the Duke.”

Christian did not reply but simply took her arm again and guided her toward the table. Perplexed, she glanced up at him and caught him glaring at a rather severe-looking man who was eyeing her with interest.

Now that she had observed Christian for some time, she realized that he was glaring at almost every man in the room as though he might call them out.

I never would have thought I would enjoy a man’s jealousy, but there is something about the way he looks at them that makes me feel protected. I cannot explain it.

They reached the refreshments table, which was laden with drinks and food of every kind. There were pies, pastries, cheeses, and cold meats. Along the back were large bowls filled with jellies and what looked like an enormous blancmange. Tarts and pastries overflowed on plates on every side beside a plethora of wine, punch, and champagne. Louise was surprised that the table didn’t collapse.

“What would you like?” Christian asked, his gaze fixed on a gentleman on the right-hand side of the table, helping himself to some cake.

“I simply wished to fetch myself a glass of punch. I did not need you to accompany me—you have left your friend all alone in the center of the room.”

“He will survive, I am sure,” Christian said as he summoned a footman, who poured her a glass of punch. When it was placed in her hands, Christian took her arm again, and she looked up at him with a frown.

“Do you not wish to get anything for yourself?”

“Punch is too sweet for me. Besides, we should look for Charlotte when she finishes dancing—the two of you can get to know each other better.”

Louise pursed her lips as she drank the punch. It was excellent and not so cloyingly sweet as the one at less opulent occasions.

“Are you expecting me to run off with every man in the room? Because you are acting like it.”

Christian glanced down at her in surprise. There was a note of irritation in her voice, but she looked more baffled than anything.

Does she not see that every man in the room wants her? She is the most beautiful woman here, and I will be damned if they forget that she belongs to me!

Never in his life had he felt such rabid jealousy. It was as though every eye in the room was upon them. Even when he tried to convince himself that Louise would not stand up with anyone else, he wanted to watch her to make sure that she did not even look at another man in his presence.

“I am acting as your husband. It does not hurt to remind them who you belong to. I shall do it as many times as is required.”

He cleared his throat as they made their way back to Gabriel, who, to Christian’s eternal irritation, was watching him with an amused glint in his eyes. He had known Gabriel for a long time, and that was the closest thing to a smile his friend had ever achieved.

“Enjoying yourself?” Gabriel asked Louise, who had already finished her punch and was looking around her.

“It is a beautiful ballroom. Have you been to this event before, Your Grace?”

“I have,” Gabriel replied. “For many years. It is one of the finest events of the Season. I believe it gets better every year.”

Christian took the opportunity to glance around him. He was usually on edge at such functions, believing that every step he took was under scrutiny. But, strangely, with Louise beside him, he felt calmer, more able to enjoy himself than he had before.

There are benefits to having a wife that I had not foreseen.

Glancing down at her, he noticed that she was examining the pillars at the far side of the room. They had been placed at intervals, with cascades of flowers hanging from them. The colors were vibrant and beautiful. He recognized tulips in and amongst them but could not identify many of the other flowers.

He heard Louise counting under her breath.

“What are you looking at?” he asked.

She raised her gaze to his and sighed. “Wherever Lady Barrington sources her flowers, she has exquisite taste. Those are Gallic roses and must have been grown in a hot house to produce such wide blooms in March.”

Christian felt a burst of pride at the awe in her voice. He did not have extensive knowledge of flowers or anything to do with them, but her diamond-blue eyes certainly came alive when she broached the subject.

“And what are Gallic roses?” he asked, noting that Gabriel’s steady gaze never left him.

Louise smiled up at him, and his breath caught in his throat. It was a genuine smile. She seemed touched by his interest, which made a strange, happy feeling bloom in his chest.

“The Gallicas are the large pink blooms at the base of the bouquets. They are also known as the ‘Apothecary’ rose. Their petals have medicinal properties and can often be found growing in the gardens of apothecaries for just that reason.”

“My God, you have married an intellectual,” Gabriel said blithely, but his tone was not unkind.

Christian’s admiration of his wife’s knowledge was quickly doused, however, when she positively beamed at Gabriel, and a muscle in his jaw began to tick.

“Have you already cataloged the Gallic rose in your book?” he asked hurriedly, trying to mask his irritation.

“Not yet. I was waiting until later in the year when they would naturally be in bloom. I still do not have an accurate sketch of one, so I would need a subject.”

Louise’s gaze suddenly landed on something on the other side of the room, and her face brightened immediately.

“Oh! It is Lady Sybella,” she gushed. She turned to Christian and arched an eyebrow. “Am I permitted to go and speak to my friend, or should I remain here at all times?”

Christian was appalled to feel heat creeping up his neck. He was aware that his behavior was somewhat ridiculous, but he had not expected Louise to call him out on it, and certainly not in front of Gabriel.

“I am not preventing you from doing anything,” he said, even as his eyes scanned the path she had to take for any young men who might accost her. “Go and speak to Lady Sybella if it pleases you.”

Louise handed him her empty glass without hesitation and made her way through the crowd. Christian’s eyes did not leave her until the two women embraced.

“My God, I never would have thought it,” Gabriel muttered.

Christian glowered at him, but Gabriel merely gave him a smug look.

“Do you deny it?”

“Deny what?” Christian grumbled.

“That you can hardly take your eyes off the chit.”

“Don’t call her—” Christian broke off, reining in his temper as Gabriel bounced on the balls of his feet in apparent glee. “She is not a chit . She is my wife, and I would ask you to remember that.”

“How could I possibly forget? Lately, she is all you speak about.”

“That is not true.”

“It is. You are a fool if you think otherwise. I never would have thought that the Iron Harridan would tame the Duke of Egerton.”

“Would you be quiet?” Christian hissed, placing the empty glass Louise had handed to him on the tray of a passing servant. “If nothing else, I hope that her nickname will fade now. She has done enough to distance herself from it.”

“She is on your arm—that has to count for something. It certainly makes her more intriguing. Perhaps I should ask her to dance.”

“I will cut off your toes if you try,” Christian gritted out.

Gabriel snorted loudly. “I am going to find Arkley,” he drawled. “He is far more agreeable than you, at present. I shall leave you to your observations.” And then he disappeared into the crowd.

“Go to the devil,” Christian muttered.

But despite his friend’s taunting, he was unable to move far from his charge.

He hung back, watching Louise speaking to the ladies around her, strangely jealous that even they received her attention while he did not.