Desire and Deceit [bxb]

12. The Waltz

If you're keeping up with this story, just so you know, I love you.

...

Heart racing in its cage like stallion, Alvin clutched his own hand behind his back as he accompanied Elizabeth to the refreshment table. Clad in complimentary outfits of a molten bronze, the siblings were a spectacle and turned more than a few heads towards them.

"Have I grown an extra head overnight?"

The younger sibling rolled her eyes. "You look marvellous, brother."

Did he, really? Did his pale blond hair not clash against the gaudy colour of his jacket? Did his blue eyes not stick out like marbles against this sea of gold? Did the heat of the ballroom not make his cheeks go red like the Cupid?

"We're sticking out like sore thumbs, sister." He murmured through his teeth, maintaining the neutrality on his face. "Not one person followed the theme!"

"And what a shame!" The woman replied, a pleasant smile on her face. "Tis such a pretty colour, and everyone is simply boring."

"It is very... out there."

"Imagine how Lady P must feel." Elizabeth sympathised. "I can see just about three people in totality who followed the theme, besides us, of course."

"Really?" Alvin mused, picking up a lemonade for himself. "Who's the third, that poor soul?"

"Why, our duke, of course!"

The hand leading the glass to his lips stilled, and Alvin looked at his stepsister with wide eyes, who opted to smile secretly behind her own glass of lemonade.

"He's behind me, isn't he?"

"He is, indeed."

A clearing of a throat had Alvin shutting his eyes for a moment. He took a gulp of his lemonade, urged his heart to calm down, and turned around.

"Duke Presley." He nodded once.

"Mr. Frazier."

"Your grace." Elizabeth curtsied.

"Miss Frazier." A kiss was bestowed on her hand.

"May I have the next dance?" The older man asked, turning to him.

Well, the duke was not the one to beat around the bush, was he?

Alvin could respect that.

He put him hand into the outstretched palm with all but a benign smile on his face, peering up at the man through his fair eyelashes.

"Yes, you may, Mr. Newman."

Ignoring Elizabeth's baffled look, Alvin shared a secret smile with the duke, before being led to the dance floor by the said man.

"You do remember the waltz, I hope?" Vincent teased him as they got into position and waited for the music to start.

"I had an excellent teacher." He responded in good manner, gazing into dark pools of everything enticing. The perfume the duke had chosen today was particularly seductive as well.

This man was pure desire in human form, and Alvin had no clue how he'd been unscathed by his power for so long. Maybe he hadn't, in reality.

"And I had the most excellent, attentive, captivating..." Duke Presley seemed to be racking his brain for more adjectives, but gave up and focused on the iridescence of his dance partner's eyes reflecting all the lights in the room.

"Student." He finished, uncharacteristically out of breath suddenly.

"Student." Alvin confirmed with a smile, tightening his hand around the duke's waist.

Evidently, he did not need much instructions this time around, the dance carried on itself with grace and the pair were lost within each other's eyes, unbeknownst to the bewildered and scandalised looks of the ton.

The bastard son of a maid had just captured the most eligible man in London.

...

"I must implore you let me see you tomorrow."

"You are always welcome in our abode, your grace, without question." Alvin peeked through his lashes, letting the besotted man lead him to his family carriage.

"I would not like to overstep my boundaries." The duke explained, smiling charmingly.

The cheeky bastard knew what he was doing.

"I'd say we've overstepped quite a few boundaries already, your grace." Alvin reminded through a conspiratory whisper, chuckling at the falter in the steps it produced.

Two could play the game.

He stepped into the carriage, took his seat and then leaned down to whisper into the duke's ear.

"I would step over some more if we were alone right now."

Leaving the duke to gape and gasp over his words like a maiden, Alvin kissed the man's hand.

"I shall bid you good night, my duke."

...

"What the hell was that?!" Elizabeth screeched as soon as the carriage took off.

Alvin laughed his heart out. He'd never felt quite so giddy before.

"That, my dear Elizabeth, is how you make sure a man thinks of you at night while he lays in bed." If his grandfather was present, he would slap the vulgarity out of him. Good thing he wasn't.

The girl blushed. "Stupid! I meant the 'my duke' part!"

"Oh. That." He pondered for a moment. Then shrugged. "Felt right."

"Mr. Alvin William Frazier, that was a marriage proposal in quite simple terms!"

"Oh, it was a proposal all right." He laughed again. The champagne had been a good idea. He felt happy, elated even, like no one could bring him down now.

He was wrong.

Alvin sobered up at the sight waiting for him in the sitting room. He had wanted to retire to his bed as soon as he'd step foot into the house, but manners required him to greet any awake members of the family while Elizabeth escaped in the pretence of requiring lady time.

Old baron sat in the armchair, nursing a cup of tea, a nonchalant expression on his face, yet Alvin recognized the tension around his mouth.

Wilhelm nibbled on his nail beds, a habit of his that Alvin had understood arose when the boy was anxious.

And the reason for the pensive mood in the room sat directly in view of Alvin, facing the entrance, stirring her tea.

It was the Dowager Baroness, his stepmother, and his late father's truthful wife.

...

What, you thought it'd be all sunshine and rainbows forever?

Guess the Elizabeth's mother's name! Hint, it's a very basic English name that starts with A.