Capturing the Governess’s Heart by Sally Forbes
Chapter Twenty Three
Emma looked up from her place next to Henry, whom she had assured had all the very nicest things on his plate. The boy had eyes bigger than his stomach, she thought with amusement. She had carefully explained to him that a little of each rich dish was sufficient unless he wished to be ill and miss the dancing. He had already made her promise him a dance, and she was looking forward to it. He was a credit to her teachings, and she was proud of him. She was thankful, too, as without him beside her, she would have been quite at sea among the other diners, with no other familiar faces nearby.
Of course, she could not have expected to be seated near the duke, as at family mealtimes, but nevertheless, she missed his comforting presence nearby. Whenever she could, she glanced up to the head of the table, trying not to be too obvious about it, and drank in how particularly handsome he looked that evening in his formal dress. His beautiful ash-blond hair was neatly dressed, and his longtail coat and white breeches showed off his manly figure in a way that set her heart beating faster.
In fact, several times after looking at him, she had to fan her face with her napkin to cool her skin. She wondered if they might dance together at the ball, and the thought made her shiver with delightful anticipation. Still, in the meantime, the food was wonderful, and she was determined that both she and Henry would enjoy the party. Just then, as she looked up from her plate, she saw the duke looking at her. His eyes held hers, and he smiled. Emma felt herself suddenly blushing and tried to smile back without showing her inner turmoil.
After the guests were at last replete with fine puddings and wines, and supper was ended, the commencement of the ball was announced. Emma was delighted to see Abigail positively glowing as she moved among the guests making their way to the ballroom. She was proud she had been able to help the young woman overcome her sorrow and enjoy her special day, both for herself and on her parent’s behalf.
The orchestra struck up a familiar country ballad as the ballroom filled. When that had finished, the Dowager Duchess stood up and announced it was time for Abigail’s first dance. Lady Abigail waited, looking radiant, as her uncle approached her and held out his hand to escort her onto the dance floor. She looks quite grown-up, Emma thought, brushing a tear from her eye. Abigail would no longer need her governess for lessons in the schoolroom, but Emma hoped she would still prove a valuable friend to the girl. Abigail and her uncle swept around the floor gracefully to a pretty waltz tune, which showed Abigail’s elegant dress off to great effect.
“She looks simply dazzling, your sister, don’t you think, Henry?” she asked the boy, who remained with his arm linked through hers.
“Yes, she does. She looks … very grown-up and pretty. She won’t be coming to lessons after this, will she, Miss Emma?” He sounded suddenly downcast. “I shall miss her. I suppose one of these lords will probably want to marry her after this, and then I shall hardly get to see her.” Emma’s heart went out to him, and she understood perfectly. He was worried about what the future might hold as much as she was.
“Yes, it will be very strange not having to teach you both. But it means we will have more time to concentrate on the things you like best, Henry, and not, as you call it, on ‘stupid girls’ things,’” Emma went on, and Henry nodded his head, appreciating the fact.
He said, “And we can always invite Abigail to visit us, can’t we? We can still have our picnics and special schoolroom treats? I’m sure she won’t want to leave us behind altogether.”
“She would miss you too much to do that.”
“I hope so, Miss Emma. She is all that is left of my real family now, with my parents being gone,” he said, making Emma’s heart swell with monetary grief for him. She patted his hand gently.
“Well, my dear, I can tell you in strictest confidence that your sister feels exactly the same way about you. And as to family, of course, no one can ever replace your Mama and Papa, but your uncle is a wonderful man who loves you, as does your grandmother … and me.” He looked up at her with shining eyes.
“And I love you, Miss Emma. Now, when shall we have our first dance?” They both laughed at that, and, as the music was giving way to a jolly reel, she allowed Henry to escort her to the dance floor.
As she moved through the throng on Henry’s arm, she noticed Abigail and the Duke of Elsby talking together. He was clearly asking her to dance. Emma was pleased, as she knew how happy Abigail would be about that! Was her heart skipping a beat in the same way Emma’s did each time she glimpsed the duke? The young couple looked wonderfully matched, she thought, as they too made their way to the dance floor arm in arm, both wreathed in smiles.
Abigail was bound for great happiness, Emma was sure, if all turned out as the girl hoped with the object of her affections. She had no doubt Theo was also struck by the vibrant beauty Abigail had become. Emma felt a slight pang that she and her forbidden love, the duke, would never be able to enjoy the same happiness together.
As she and Henry joined the other couples in the swirl of the dance, she was impressed that Henry had learned the steps so well from his sister. He danced faultlessly, with the grace of a natural dancer. Emma had no doubt that, in a few years’ time, the handsome boy would be breaking hearts on the dance floor himself.
As the set ended and they moved aside to make way for the next dance, Emma was taken off guard as the duke suddenly appeared beside them.
“My, Henry, your dancing fair puts me to shame,” he said, smiling proudly at his nephew. “The young ladies are going to have to watch out for you, I can see,” he teased. Henry giggled.
“But I had the best partner in Miss Emma,” he said gallantly.
“Is that so?” his uncle said. “Then I beg to steal her from you for the next dance.”
“Of course, Uncle, but only if she wants to. Miss Emma loves dancing, and she will make even you look well on the dance floor,” the boy quipped, getting his revenge for his uncle’s teasing. The duke laughed. “Besides,” said Henry, “I need a cold drink after all that!”
“Thank you for your good grace, sir,” the duke called, as the boy made his way to the refreshment table. Then, he turned to Emma and offered her his arm.
“Miss Emma, I should be delighted if you would have this next dance with me.”
Emma trembled, electricity running up her spine, until she felt herself to be positively glowing with both pleasure and embarrassment. How would she bear being held in the duke’s arms and whirled across the dance floor in front of all the other guests without betraying her feelings for him? Without giving in to the temptation to kiss those fine lips. But to be held in those arms once more, to breathe in his scent, to look into those beautiful eyes was what she wanted more than anything.
“Thank you, Your Grace, I, too, would be delighted,” she said, trying to keep her voice light and steady as she took his arm.
It was slow waltz. The duke rested one hand on Emma’s waist, while she rested hers on his shoulder. Then, they clasped their free hands above and drew close to each other, almost as close as they had been on that night in the garden. The music swelled, encompassing them in their own private world, where all outside concerns melted away, and they were at last free to be together as they moved gracefully across the floor in perfect unison.
How joyous it was to be held by him, to entwine her hand with his, to feel his warm breath on her skin, to look into his warm, hazel eyes and sway as one to the glorious music. Emma felt herself being swept away into a wonderful dream she wished never to end. All those sensations she had felt in his nearness since their first meeting united in her in the dance, and it was as if they suddenly made perfect sense.
This is what it feels like to be held by the man you love, she realized with dizzying clarity. It was a feeling of ease and contentment, of carefree pleasure such as she had never before experienced.
Throughout the entire dance, not once did his eyes leave hers, and he smiled down at her constantly, his eyes sparking and seemingly filled with as much joy as she felt. They did not speak … it did not seem necessary. Yet there was a silent communication which she felt passed between them through their locked gaze that spoke deeply of strong attraction, of two matched souls drawing together in harmonious union.
When the dance finally ended, Emma felt she had been changed forever. She knew instinctively she would never love another man. The duke was in her heart for good, despite the fact they could never be together.
Once she had acknowledged that to herself, she felt more at peace. She could love him without anything in return except to be near him.
