Page 43 of The Marriage Wager

She linked her arm through Constance’s, and they went down the stairs to the large ballroom at the back of the house. It, like the conservatory beside it, led onto the terrace, and tonight its doors and long windows were opened wide to let in the cool night breeze.

Decorated in white and gold, its walls heightened the glow of the three crystal chandeliers that hung in a row down the center of the room. Crystal drops also hung from the sconces that lined the walls. Musicians played at the far end of the room on a small stage, discreetly hidden from view by green plants. Roses stood massed in vases around the room, casting their sweet scent upon the air.

Constance drew a long breath and released it, thinking how very lovely a scene it was. It seemed to her the most beautiful of balls she had attended, though she could not quite put her finger on what made it so perfect. Perhaps, she thought, the beauty of it lay in the excitement and eagerness that filled her chest.

They made a circuit of the room, pausing to talk to everyone. There were more people here tonight than the guests who had been staying here all week, for many local people had been invited, as well as several who had come only for the ball and would be departing the following day.

Near one of the doors that led out onto the terrace, they came upon the Duke of Rochford, looking as severely elegant and formidable as ever. A young woman stood beside him, and though her face was animated where his seemed set in stone, there was a similarity in coloring and in features to mark her as a relation.

It did not surprise Constance when, after bowing slightly to her and Francesca in greeting, the duke said, “Miss Woodley, pray allow me to introduce my sister, Lady Calandra.”

“My lady, it is an honor to meet you,” Constance told the girl, who smiled brilliantly, her dark eyes sparkling.

“The pleasure is all mine, I assure you,” Calandra replied, reaching out to take Constance’s hand. “I have been looking forward to the evening with great anticipation. I have spent the last month in Bath with Grand-mama, and it is deadly dull there. I was thrilled when Sinclair told me of the ball.”

Unlike her brother, Lady Calandra was not tall, but her hair was the same striking black, and her eyes equally dark. Her features were straight and well-formed and would likely have been termed elegant but for the vivacity that stamped them and the long, charming dimple that lay in one cheek.

She chatted with Francesca and Constance with a happy lack of self-consciousness and an openness that seemed at great odds with the Duke’s formal manner. She was, clearly, much younger than Rochford, but she appeared not to be in awe of him, a fact that struck Constance with surprise, for she found Rochford to be an imposing figure.

“You must come to visit me,” Calandra told Constance earnestly. “Rochford is not returning to London until next week, and I shall be all alone in that house until then—well, except for Rochford, of course, but he is poor company when we are in the country, always talking to the steward and looking at the books.” She glanced over Constance’s shoulder and smiled sunnily. “Leighton! How good to see you!”

Constance’s stomach fluttered at the sound of Dominic’s name, and she turned to greet him, careful not to seem eager. “Lord Leighton.”

“Lady Calandra. Rochford. Francesca,” Dominic greeted the others and turned to Constance. “Miss Woodley.”

The look in his eyes was everything Constance had hoped it would be. A blush rose in her cheeks, and she cast her eyes down, in the way a girl was modestly supposed to do…although in her case, Constance knew that she did it more to hide the answering heat in her own eyes than to act in a proper manner.

“I hope you will do me the honor of the next dance, Miss Woodley,” Dominic went on.

Constance knew that it would have been more appropriate for him to have asked the Duke’s sister, as Lady Calandra was of much higher rank, as well as being a new guest, but Constance was very glad that he had not. It would have been painful to watch Dominic walk off with the beautiful, wealthy and well-connected Calandra, who would obviously be an excellent match for him.

Constance murmured her assent and took the arm he offered to lead her onto the floor. The three people they had left behind watched them take the floor and begin to dance.

After a moment, Rochford said in a faintly mocking tone, “Dear, dear, Lady Haughston, do you think it is sporting to win your bet in such a manner?”

The two women turned to him, puzzled.

“Whatever do you mean?” Francesca asked.

“Your bet, dear lady, to find our Miss Woodley a husband before the end of the Season. It hardly seems fair to have made a match for her with your own brother.”

Francesca went still, staring at him. “What?”

“What are you talking about, Sinclair?” his sister asked. “What bet?”

“He’s talking about nothing,” Francesca told her quickly, color blooming in her cheeks. “We have a silly little bet, that is all.”

“To make a match for Miss Woodley?” Calandra asked, looking interested. “But how nice!” She turned to stare across the ballroom at the couple in question. “They look very good together.”

“No,” Francesca protested. “Rochford, you are wrong. I have made no match between Constance and Dominic.”

The Duke raised a quizzical eyebrow at her, and then, without a word, nodded toward the couple in question.

Irritation and alarm rising in her, Francesca followed his gaze to where Constance and Dominic were going through the intricate steps of a country dance. Even when they separated, their eyes went only to each other, and when they rejoined, palms up and placed together, to circle first one way and then the other, they seemed to form a perfect set, entirely apart from and oblivious to everyone else in the room.

Francesca sucked in a quick breath as the truth hit her. “Oh, no…” The words issued on a soft little moan. “Oh, dear God, what have I done?”

CONSTANCE WAS UNAWARE OF the glow that marked her face or the way Dominic’s eyes never left hers. She knew only that she was blissfully happy. She could have no future with Dominic, but that did not matter tonight. She wanted to have this moment, this perfect memory to cherish forever. She could be sensible tomorrow and the next day and all the days after that. Later she would tell herself all the reasons she could not fall in love with him, all the sorrow that would follow if she did.