Of all the commandments she hadn’t expected that to be the hardest to obey.
When the whispers grew so loud she couldn’t ignore them any longer, Rhys finally broke their longing stare to cast an appraising glance at the ton who were beneath him, literally and metaphorically. “It has come to my attention that there is some speculation as to my intentions this evening.”
Georgie blinked up at him in surprise, noting dimly the gasps of shock around her. It seemed she wasn’t alone in assuming that Rhys would ignore the rumors. They, and she, had expected that he would follow in his mother’s footsteps and maintain a regal and dignified silence.
Apparently not.
She felt a smile tugging at her lips despite all the pain she felt at the sight of this man she loved so fiercely. Good on you, she wanted to shout. But she didn’t. She might not be as dignified as a duchess but she hadn’t been raised in a gutter either.
Still, she had to bite her lip to keep from laughing at the shocked sounds around her when he spoke again. “If anyone wishes to ask me outright about my intentions, I would be happy to answer any questions you might have.”
Silence reigned aside from a few scattered gasps of outrage. No one liked to be caught gossiping, and it was even less enjoyable to be called out for it.
Rhys arched his brows, his formidable gaze sweeping over the crowd once more. “No? No questions? No comments on the rumors you’ve heard tonight?” He paused and then straightened his gloves. “Fair enough. Then perhaps you will be kind enough to remain silent as I make the announcement that you have all been so eager to hear.”
Now there were more than shocked gasps. There were excited whispers and nudging elbows, and, Georgie was quite certain, at least one very smug smile on the face of one Lady Regina Phelpott.
Georgie assumed as much, but she could not bring herself to turn and see. She couldn’t bear to do much more than stand there frozen, hoping against hope that this cold numbness would last until the announcement and toasts were finished. Maybe even until the end of the evening.
But no, that would be asking for too much.
She cast her eyes heavenward, both to keep her tears from spilling over and to say a prayer. Please let this numbness last until I can make my escape.
There would be tears in her future—loads of tears, and weeping, and enough heartbreak for her to write her own book of sonnets. But she despised the idea of this crowd seeing her despair.
Let me please escape with some sort of dignity.
“I plan to announce my engagement tonight.”
The crowd gasped and Georgie’s throat closed up with an ache so acute she thought it might suffocate her.
Worse, a tear escaped.
Her prayers had not been answered.
“Many of you might be aware that my family and I had a list drawn up of all the eligible young ladies of the ton.”
Oh, this could not be happening. Wasn’t it bad enough that she had to fall in love with a man she could not have? Did she really have to witness his betrothal as well?
This was too cruel.
Mary clutched her hand and she held on tight.
“These ladies are all of estimable character,” he continued. He said more after that but the rushing of blood in her ears drowned it out. She still got the gist of it. Each and every one of these ladies was special and wonderful in a unique and lovely way and blah, blah, blah.
It was a proclamation, plain and simple. He would announce the winner, for lack of a better term, and then this hell would be over.
No, the hell would just be starting.
As the moment drew near, she nearly lost her composure entirely. Her battle with tears was a losing one. She had to get away. She’d tried to be strong, but there was no way she could stand there and keep a smile on her face as the man she loved announced his betrothal to another. Wrenching her hand from Mary’s grip, she spun on her heel and headed toward the closest exit.
“While all the ladies of the list would make for an admirable duchess, I must confess that the woman I want to be my wife is not on the list.”
Georgie froze in the middle of the ballroom, her back to the makeshift stage. It wasn’t so much his words that first gave her pause, but the way he’d said “ladies of the list.” He’d said it with a hint of a melodramatic lilt, as she had done. The way he’d said it had almost been…teasing. She turned slowly. Almost as though he were telling a joke.
A private joke meant just for her.
When she’d turned completely, she found that he was watching her, his expression unreadable, but his eyes…oh, his eyes. They were filled with every emotion she was feeling. Uncertainty, desire, passion…
Love.
So. Much. Love. Seeing it reflected there in the eyes of the man she adored made her knees go weak.
What had he said? That he wanted a woman who was not on the list? He couldn’t mean…
Her gaze searched his. She caught the tiny hint of a smile and her breath hitched.
He could. And he did.
She froze again, but this time for an entirely different reason. She wasn’t numb with shock or battling grief. She was stricken with joy. It was too miraculous to fathom. While her heart wanted desperately to believe it, her mind was slow to follow. It seemed too good to be true. Things like this didn’t happen to girls like her.
Or did they?
Rhys never looked away, not even as he strode down the stairs and across the ballroom. The crowd parted around him, turning to follow his movements until she found herself alone with him in the middle of the room.
Or rather, they were surrounded by the ton, but she felt as though they were alone. The crowd was largely silent as they waited for Rhys to speak.
She stared up at him with wide eyes, waiting for the same. He was so close now that he towered over her, helpfully blocking out her view of the crowd around her, contributing to this lovely illusion that they were alone in the world. Just the two of them, in the ballroom rather than the garden, but still. Alone. Just as they should be.
When Rhys took too long to speak, she did it for him. “So, you’ve decided against the ladies of the list then?” she helpfully prompted, eliciting a small flicker of a smile that she knew she would remember always. She managed to keep her tone light despite the fact that her heart was beating frantically and her hands shook with nervous anticipation.
What if she was wrong? a voice of doom felt compelled to ask. What if he meant someone else?
That voice didn’t quiet, not until he finally spoke again. “Miss Cleveland,” he said in that low, rumbly tone she so adored.
“Yes, Your Grace?” Her own came out breathless in response, but it was hard to breathe when her heart was trying to escape her chest.
He took a step closer until he was so close they nearly touched. All that existed was him, them, this moment. His eyes were dark and intense, his lips…oh mercy, his lips held a smile. “Will you do me the honor of being my wife?”
It was that moment that she was struck speechless.
She stared up at him, eyes wide with wonder. Could it be? Was her fairy tale really coming true? Did the man she loved above all others truly want her for his bride?
Wonder turned to joy and she felt it ripple through her. It was the kind of joy that would forever alter her world. It would forever alter her.
She wanted to say yes. More than anything in the world, she wanted to say yes. But the words wouldn’t come. For the first time in her life, words failed her. Reason decided to come back from holiday, and she couldn’t ignore it. “Are you quite certain?”
Now it was he who was staring with wide eyes. “I beg your pardon?”
She dimly noted the whispers around them and she leaned in so no one else could hear. “I want to say yes, Rhys, I truly do. But what about your duties? You must admit I’m hardly duchess material and—”
He kissed her. Right there in front of Mary and the duchess and Claire and the rest of the civilized w
orld.
His lips were firm and demanding, his arms tight around her as he pulled her close so she was pressed to his chest, her slippered toes dangling in the air.
He quite literally swept her off her feet.
“Only you would argue with me when I’m trying to propose,” he said gruffly as he lifted his head slightly to meet her gaze.
She grinned up at him. It was difficult to form coherent sentences when his lips were still so close to her own, when his arms were so tight around her, but she managed, albeit breathlessly. “I wouldn’t want you to make a decision in haste, Rhys.” She was only partly teasing as she tilted her head slightly to acknowledge the gasping, whispering crowd around them. “I wouldn’t want you to marry me just because you are honor-bound to do so.”
“Silly Georgie,” he murmured, his eyes filled with such tenderness it was hard to breathe. Or maybe that was his deliciously tight embrace. He leaned down closer until his nose just brushed hers. “I want to marry because I am desperately in love with you.” He dropped a soft kiss on her lips, which had parted with a gasp. “I know my words are not that of a poet, but I hope you know how sincere I am in my—”
She cut him off with a kiss that made him groan and the crowd around them erupt once more into a frenzy of whispers, though now there were giggles and cheers mingled in with the shock.
She pulled back slightly to tease him. “My apologies, Your Grace, but sometimes you don’t know when to stop talking.”
His laughter rumbled through him and she could feel it resonating throughout her body. “Georgie?”
“Yes?”
“Is that a yes?”
She laughed as she nodded. “That is a yes, Rhys. I would love to be your wife.”
Chapter Fourteen
Rhys had never been happier in his life.
For one perfect moment, he was well and truly happy. The woman he loved was smiling up at him, she was in his arms, and she would be his wife.
Then, of course, reality set in. Someone somewhere—likely his mother—instructed the musicians to start up again. The whispers around them grew into a frenzy of chatter. Much as he didn’t want to let go, it was becoming alarmingly clear that he was still holding Georgie most inappropriately in the middle of a crowded ballroom.
He set her down reluctantly, loving the way she reached for his hand the moment her toes touched the ground, as if she too were loath to break contact now that they were truly together.
Forever.
A thrill of joy rolled through him, shocking him so thoroughly, he was temporarily incapable of speech as he guided Georgie through the crowd where they might have some peace.
He needn’t have worried. He might have been speechless but Georgie was quick to fill his silence. “I cannot believe how romantic you were back there,” she gushed once they reached a relatively private corner.
All eyes were still on them but at least no one could hear them speak. Some dancing had even started up and hopefully soon they would no longer be the sole source of interest for this crowded room.
He turned to face his bride-to-be and was struck dumb all over again by her beauty and by the sweet adoration that gave her eyes the most spectacular hue. “Your eyes are so—”
“Green?” she suggested.
Oh bloody hell. Would he ever live that down? He shook his head in rueful frustration as she laughed. “What I meant was—”
She stopped him with a kiss. Apparently they were going to spend the entire evening shocking this crowd with their blatant displays of affection.
He couldn’t say that he minded, really.
The sound of a throat being cleared unnaturally loudly to their left had them breaking apart with a start.
His mother stared at them with arched brows that demanded an explanation, while Claire beamed at him from behind her with unabashed glee.
“Might I have a word, dear?” his mother said.
Claire was already at Georgie’s side and the two were laughing and squealing in a manner that was entirely unbefitting their surroundings. Still, he found himself watching Georgie with a smile he couldn’t contain.
“So, you have made your choice.” The duchess didn’t sound angry but he stiffened at her words. Reluctantly turning away from his fiancé, he faced his mother.
“I realize Georgie is not the expected choice, but I hope you will honor my decision.”
He was almost certain he caught a flicker of a smile before his mother pursed her lips. “Of course, dear. It is your decision to make, and I trust that you know what you are about.”
He gave a short nod and they both turned slightly to look over at Georgie who was talking animatedly with her sister and her friend, Mary, who had joined them.
Once again he found himself quite incapable of holding back a smile as affection surged through him at the very sight of her so full of happiness. In that moment he knew that his highest obligation, his most sacred duty would be to ensure that she was always this happy, in as much as it was his power to do so.
It was a responsibility he took very seriously.
To his mother, he said, “Georgie will make an excellent duchess, Mother.”
Georgie tipped her head back with a loud, tinkling laugh and he turned to face his mother once more. “Perhaps she will not in the traditional sense, however—”
His mother’s hand on his arm stopped him from defending his future bride any further. “I trust your judgement, dear, and I know your father did too. We’ve always trusted you to do what’s best, for this family and for the dukedom, even if those choices are…unexpected.”
Was it his imagination or was there laughter in her tone? It didn’t matter. What mattered was the pride and love in her eyes when their gazes met.
He gave a short nod of acknowledgement, another unexpected surge of emotion making it difficult to speak.
Nicholas’s sudden appearance at their side cut into the moment. “Is it true what they’re saying?” He looked askance between his mother and brother. “Did Rhys really kiss Georgie right there in front of everyone?” Now, there was no questioning the laughter that tinged Nicholas’s voice, though he also sounded disappointed. “I cannot believe I missed it.”
“It’s true!” Claire joined the conversation and soon she was recounting in vivid detail the scene that he and Georgie had just put on for the benefit of the ton.
He held back a groan as she recounted his shocking display. But then his gaze fell on his intended and he forgot all about his bruised pride or the fact that he, Rhys Galwin, Duke of Roxborough, had caused the greatest scandal of the season.
It was worth it.
He sighed at the sight of her smile when her gaze met his. Yes, she was definitely worth any scandal.
Breaking away from his family who was still discussing him with unbridled amusement, he strode over to Georgie. She stopped speaking to her friend, who turned red and stuttered a greeting as he reached their side.
He managed to give Georgie’s friend a polite greeting before turning to face her. For one blissful moment they stood there grinning at one another like a pair of fools. Then the strains of a waltz started up and he held out an arm. “May I have this dance?”
Nicholas’s voice came from behind them. “I still cannot believe it. And then he kissed her?”
Georgie beamed, her friend smirked. He gave an exasperated sigh as Georgie took his arm. “Come along, let’s leave them to their gossip.”
“With pleasure,” she laughed.
She was still laughing as he pulled her into his arms on the dancefloor. He still wasn’t overly fond of dancing but at this particular moment, he could see the appeal. It was the only socially acceptable means of holding his wife-to-be in his arms.
For the moment. Soon enough he could hold her in his arms any time he liked…and anywhere. Preferably his bed.
He tightened his grip on her. Oh bloody hell, he would never last until their wedding night.
“You look pained,” Ge
orgie said with her typical bluntness, her brow furrowing with concern.
He let out a laugh that was indeed pained. “I am merely wishing we were alone.”
He felt the tension ease out of her as they began to dance. “Oh, is that all? I was worried that perhaps you were already having regrets.”
“Never.” He hadn’t exactly intended it to come out so forcibly but after one startled look she gave him a smile of acceptance.
“Good. I shan’t regret it either.”
He felt that pull again, the now familiar tug on his lips as her merriment affected him. “Are you sure about that? I’ve been told that I can be a pompous bore.”
She bit her lip as he quoted her words back to her. He instantly felt guilty for it as her cheeks pinkened. He’d meant to tease her not bring her shame. Georgie gave him an apologetic smile. “Whoever said that didn’t know you very well.”
He felt some of his own tension ease. He hadn’t realized quite how nervous he was that she’d feel as though she’d settled in some way. “So I’m not a pompous bore then?”
She laughed at that. “That depends, do you still believe that I make a spectacle of myself?”
He didn’t have to work hard to feign horror. He was horrified that he’d said anything so callous to his Georgie. “Whoever said that didn’t know you at all.”
She smiled as he echoed her words and a peaceful silence fell between them.
Of course, it couldn’t last.
“You were right though,” Georgie said, once again nibbling on her lip.
“About what?”
She drew in a deep breath. “I am too silly and shallow to be a duchess.”
He let out a scoffing sound. “That’s ridiculous. Duchesses come in all shapes and sizes.”
She widened her eyes in shock and he laughed before holding her even tighter. “I’m teasing, Georgie. You taught me that enjoying life is not a sin. One can be responsible and still be able to laugh at himself and the world around him.”
“I taught you that?” Georgie said. “I suppose I’m wiser than I thought.”
A Duke’s Distraction: Devilish Lords Page 14
