‘You might regret saying that.’
He grinned and then they were moving, swaying and swirling around the floor, somewhat stiffly perhaps, but still dancing. If he felt any discomfort in his leg, he gave no sign of it, gazing into her face with a smile that held no hint of mockery. She felt suddenly, unexpectedly, acutely happy. She loved him. Of course she did. And she wanted to dance—to truly enjoy a dance for the first time in her life. She was hardly aware of the crowd watching them any more. There was only him, sweeping her around the ballroom in his arms with a hundred candles blazing around them, as if they were the only two people in the world.
‘Do you know, ethereal might be the perfect word.’ His gaze clung to hers. ‘Did I mention how beautiful you look tonight?’
‘Once or twice.’
‘Well, it bears repeating a third time, possibly a fourth and fifth before the evening’s out. Alas, anyone would think I’m hoping for a compliment in return.’
‘Oh!’ She bit her lip guiltily. She hadn’t thought to offer him any compliments, but why on earth would a man as handsome as he was need to be told? ‘Do you want one?’
‘It would be nice to know what my wife thinks of my appearance. Martin’s made quite an effort with me.’
She laughed. ‘Then tell Martin you look very handsome. You always do. It’s quite unfair.’
‘Unfair?’ He looked puzzled. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean, how can I ever hope to match up?’
His eyes lost their look of merriment. ‘You exceed me, Violet, in every possible way. You’re beautiful inside and out, didn’t anyone ever tell you that?’
She gazed at him speechlessly as the waltz ended and other couples made their way on to the floor. No, no one had ever told her anything so poignant before. Any compliments she’d received had always been perfunctory at best. No one else had ever sounded as if they truly meant them, whereas he—he sounded as if he truly did. He made her feel it, his amber eyes glowing with an intensity that made her heart leap into her throat.
‘I suppose we ought to see to our guests.’ He pressed a kiss to the inside of her wrist and then winced.
‘What’s the matter? Is it your leg?’
‘Just a twinge.’ He made an apologetic face. ‘I’m afraid I might have been a tad overambitious with a walt
z. Forgive me, Violet, but I think I’ve done enough dancing for tonight.’
‘Of course. You should sit down and rest.’
‘No, I ought to reintroduce myself to Whitby society. I’ve put it off long enough.’ He escorted her back to the edge of the floor. ‘You go and enjoy yourself. It’s about time you had some fun, only not too much without me. I’ll be watching.’
Violet stared after him as he limped stiffly away. I’ll be watching...as if he wanted to watch her. Was it possible that he might care for her after all, then? That he might not want to wait seven years? Everything about his behaviour seemed to suggest it...
‘Mrs Amberton?’
Her father’s old lawyer appeared in front of her and she inclined her head politely.
‘Mr Rowlinson, good evening. Are you enjoying the ball?’
‘Very much. It’s good to see Amberton Castle all lit up again. These balls have been sorely missed over the past few years.’
‘We thought it would be a good way to celebrate our wedding since the event itself was so small.’
‘Indeed.’ The lawyer lowered his voice confidentially. ‘And I’m glad to hear that your marriage is a cause for celebration. You must know I was most uncomfortable carrying out the terms of your father’s will.’
‘I do know it, but it’s all right. They were my father’s wishes, not yours.’
‘No, but as events have transpired...’ He faltered, as if unsure whether or not to go on.
‘What do you mean?’ She looked at him enquiringly. ‘Is something wrong?’
‘Not wrong exactly, only there’s something I ought perhaps to tell you.’ He threw a swift look over his shoulder, as if to make sure no one could hear them. ‘It relates to your father’s will.’
‘Yes?’