“Perhaps I was simply trying to keep my wife to myself for as long as I could,” Edward sighed, settling a hand on Phoebe’s hip and drawing her closer to his side, the action startling her slightly.
The woman huffed and smiled at Phoebe kindly,
“I hope he is not bothering you too much, dear. I know that he can be quite mischievous.”
“Those claims are slander, Jane,” he frowned as he addressed Phoebe. “Pay her no heed. She has been misled by her husband who wishes to soil my reputation.”
“There is no need for me to do so, as you are doing a fine job of it already.” The man behind the woman stated with a mild look of irritation.
“Before I address that foul statement, dearest wife, I would like to introduce you to our hosts, Jane and Thomas Wetherby, the Duke and duchess of Ravencroft,” to Phoebe, he gestured with a nod in her direction, his hand still on her waist. “This is my wife, Phoebe Barton, duchess of Montford.”
Jane beamed excitedly and took Phoebe’s hands in hers.
“I am so glad to finally meet you!” she said, and Phoebe could tell at once that she meant it. “I have heard almost nothing about you, because Edward had been rather protective of you, which means you must be very important to him.”
“Jane,” Thomas sighed mildly.
“I am simply being honest. It is a virtue.” His wife pouted.
“It is frequently a virtue,” Thomas agreed. “It is occasionally just candour.”
Phoebe found herself laughing, which she had not expected, and Jane squeezed her hands once before letting go.
“We must talk properly at some point. Not tonight, unfortunately, as there is far too much happening right now, but soon.” Her dark eyes were bright and direct. “It was lovely to meet you. I think we shall be good friends.”
“I think so too,” Phoebe smiled genuinely, and was surprised to find that she meant it.
The duke and duchess slipped soon after, clearly busy playing the part of the good host as they walked around the ballroom greeting guests.
“They seem kind,” Phoebe commented ad she faced her husband.
“They are. I have known Thomas for as long as I have known myself, it seems. It was only natural that I know his wife too and I am glad that you like them.” Edward replied easily.
He glanced around the room briefly, and when his eyes settled on her again, she could see a hint of intent behind them.
As if on cue, the string quartet started a new song and he held out a hand to her and asked,
“Would you oblige me with the honour of a dance?”
Flustered, Phoebe stared at him opening and closing her mouth, unsure of what to say.
Eventually, she began, “You do not have to —”
“I know I do not have to. I want to,” he replied plainly. “Dance with me, wife.”
She took his hand and allowed him to lead her onto the dance floor. While she had received formal dance training as a young girl and reserved that knowledge, she had not gotten the chance to practice as a debutante, because none of the men would look at her twice.
She recalled clearly, watching other women twirl around the ballroom with dance cards on their wrist, full of interested suitors, while she had been branded as an outcast, unworthy of a single spec of attention.
“Focus on me, Phoebe,” Edward ordered lowly as he bowed to her, like the other men in the dance floor did to their own partners.
Phoebe nodded as she curtsied and the music started, the tone sharp and fast paced. A waltz.
She followed his lead, struggling to keep up at first but eventually settling into a nice rhythm that made her smile slightly with enjoyment. His hand felt secure around hers and the warmth of this touch on the lower back was spreading through her skin, to the point she guessed that she had a permanent flush on her face.
The sights and sounds made the experience even better, with her everything seemed to glow and shimmer as they danced and the music continued to rise, a symphony of stunning sounds. Phoebe had never felt so … pleased.
“We did not have to do this,” she whispered once the pace had slowed slightly and she had regained bearings of her thoughts. “We did not have to dance. I would have been all right just watching.”