Curse of the Wolf King - Tessonja Odette Page 0,93
ball with a minuet. He, unfortunately, will not be participating in the opening dance.”
She gasps. “Not participating in his own—Miss Bellefleur, I know your employer is an unconventional creature, but surely he mustn’t be so contrite as this.”
I take her arm and gently pull her away from the others. “Can I let you in on a secret, Imogen? Mr. Rochester spent the last several days learning a selection of human dances for this ball. For you. Not all fae are versed in these kinds of things, you know.”
A pleased smile flutters over her lips despite her attempts to appear nonchalant. “When I encouraged him to host a ball, I confess it hadn’t occurred to me that Mr. Rochester wouldn’t know our popular dances. And never in a thousand years would I have considered he might have chosen to host a fae ball. I am so glad he didn’t. Oh, how dreadful would that have been with their wild, unrestrained dances?”
I want to laugh at the look of disgust on her face but keep my expression neutral. “Can you now see what lengths he’s gone to please you? You cannot expect him to know our most complicated group dances.”
“No, I suppose I should feel honored. But please tell me he isn’t an awful dancer.”
“He isn’t, trust me. Just be patient with him tonight. He will dance, but he may spend a greater amount of time watching you dance.”
Her eyes widen with delight, and she opens her silk fan to flutter over the bottom half of her face.
The music picks up with a sudden tempo change, a tune I recognize from the musicians’ earlier practice. A tune that denotes my employer’s entrance at the ball.
My pulse increases, and it seems everyone in the room turns to face the doorway with me. There Elliot strolls in with slow, confident steps, just the slightest hitch in his cadence. There’s a collective silence at his entrance, all eyes upon his striking appearance. Dressed in an impeccable black suit with a silver brocade waistcoat and ruby cravat, he stands out as a specimen cut far above the rest. I’ve grown so used to his company, especially when he’s either at ease or sulking, that it’s easy to forget just how fae he truly is—a wild, beautiful creature in both looks and poise. For the first time, I can almost see his seelie and unseelie forms as if they were one, the man and wolf united, indistinguishable. He has the same prowling grace as a wolf, the same dangerous stare, the same powerful build.
For a moment a strange sense of thrilling terror washes over me. This is the creature I’ve allowed myself to bully and argue with? Forced to dance and entertain humans? If he wasn’t cursed and had his magic intact, how long would it take him to kill everyone in this room?
A chill crawls up my spine, but it doesn’t make me want to run. It makes me want to move closer to him, as if he’s a hearth fire on a chilly day, capable of burning those who get too close…and yet doesn’t.
He pauses, and the guests offer bows and curtsies. A flicker of hesitation crosses his face until his eyes find mine. His gaze slides over my dress, and his lips pull into the warmest smile I’ve ever seen him wear, which doesn’t help me rid myself of the image of him being a fire…nor the heat that floods every part of my body. Imogen must feel the same, for she fans herself faster as he advances toward us.
“Mr. Rochester,” she croons, stepping to the front of our retinue to greet him, “this ball is simply marvelous. You’ve truly outdone yourself in giving the people of Vernon the honor of dancing in your home.”
He offers her an easy smile, but his eyes flick to me. “You can thank my steward, for she’s done all the work.”
Imogen purses her lips and I give Elliot a warning look.
He returns his gaze to Imogen and takes her hand in his. “I have you to thank for procuring the guest list. This night wouldn’t have happened without you.” Then, lifting her hand, he brings the back of it to his lips.
My stomach ties itself in a knot, and for a moment I feel paralyzed. Then Elliot releases Imogen’s hand and greets the rest of her party, including my father. They exchange tense formalities, and I’m impressed how well he’s playing his role as host, his expression betraying