Her Wicked Proposal novel Chapter 71

How had he guessed her secret wish for this very thing? It didn't matter that they weren't in a lively assembly room full of their peers. No, what mattered was that she was here, right now with the man she loved, and they were finally going to have their dance.

She could have danced all night with him if he asked her to. Walking into his embrace, she guided one of his hands to her waist and clasped his other hand in hers. Then he tugged her close enough that their bodies brushed.

"We have no music," she murmured, studying his look of concentration.

"We don't need it." He began to hum, the notes soft at first a cappella, then, as though more confidant, he began to sing the notes, his voice clear and bell-like. He sang like an angel. She would never have guessed that about him. Grinning in delight, she followed his lead as he began. They moved together with such ease it surprised even her. Without anyone else in the room, he could guide her effortlessly and she could follow him.

Because I trust him. Even after what Crispin had done to her that night at Almack's she hadn't given up the belief deep inside that Cedric was her destiny. As broken as Crispin's violation of her had made her feel, Cedric had erased that pain. Not unlike a piece of pottery she'd once seen from Japan, shattered and then fastened back together with gleaming powdered gold or silver seams. Kintsugi, her father had called it. The act of fixing something, letting the break symbolize something that was stronger for its being repaired. The gold illuminated the breaks that had been mended rather than hiding them.

What had happened with Crispin no longer defined her. Moving on with her life, with love, with Cedric, were her gold seams holding her pieces back together, making her whole again. She was not simply another wronged woman. She was Anne Chessley, a woman who loved horses, the outdoors, and her husband. He let her be herself, and yet they shared all their joys and now all their heartbreaks.

And we have survived through them, finding our joy together again. Because we lean upon each other. We are partners, equals. The thoughts turned in her head even as they turned around the ballroom. It was the sort of marriage her father had wished for her to have, and although he was gone, she knew he would have approved.

"Are you all right, my love? I felt you shiver just now." Cedric's hand on her waist, so warm through the fabric of her dress, tightened a little as they continued to dance.

"Yes, oh yes. I've wanted to do this with you for years," she admitted. The darkness and his blindness hid her blush, but she wasn't ashamed of the truth.

"Perhaps we ought to dance every night before bed?" He winked at her and she laughed.

"I wouldn't argue with you on that." She squeezed his hand and he spun her out from him, twirling her around before pulling her back, which made her laugh in delight.

"Let's have a ball next month. Invite all our friends. We can dance all night, darling."

"A wonderful idea! We could let Audrey plan it when she returns from France. Perhaps she and Jonathan could plan it together."

Her husband chuckled. "Are you matchmaking, my heart?"

She lifted her chin. "You said yourself Jonathan is considering courting her. I think it would be an excellent way for them to spend more time around each other."

"Then it's settled," he agreed, and pulled her flush against him.

"This isn't a waltz anymore," she whispered against his ear. "There's no longer any music."

"No, but it's something much better, wouldn't you agree?" He nuzzled her cheek and then kissed her temple.

She shivered again, but this time from renewed desire. "Cedric, why don't we go upstairs to bed. I have a sudden need for you to fulfill your duties to me again."

"Yes-" But something had changed. Cedric's wicked grin faded and his entire body went rigid. His hands on her hips dug into her hard.

"Anne, did you tell the servants to leave a window open?" His words were so soft, she almost didn't hear him. But she felt a faint breeze kiss the back of her neck.

"No. I didn't." She started to rotate toward the window when a sound froze her in place.

Someone was clapping.

"What a charming show you put on, Sheridan." A cold voice cut through the gloom of the ballroom.

"Who's there?" Cedric demanded, dragging Anne behind him, putting his body between her and the direction the voice came from.

"Get inside, my lady!" Hartley shouted as two men tackled him and a third got past him to run toward her. She slammed the ballroom door, pushing against the heavy wood to keep it shut.

Before she could recover, she was grabbed from behind, a blade pressed against her side as a warning for her to stay still.

"Don't move, Lady Sheridan, or you will regret it."

"Anne?" Cedric's voice was distant, farther away.

The man had evaded Cedric and gone directly for her. He gripped her by the back of the neck and dragged her in front of him. Two more men slipped through an open window.

Anne tried to warn him of the others coming up behind him, but the man holding her squeezed her throat. She dug her fingertips into his hand, fighting for breath while the invaders wrestled Cedric to the ground. He couldn't defend himself, lashing out wildly against unseen foes.

"Don't fight, Lord Sheridan. I have a blade to your wife's heart. It would be so easy to slip it between her ribs."

Cedric ceased his struggles and lay stomach down on the floor, the men pinning his arms and legs.

"Bind him," the man holding Anne barked. Two men used a coil of rope they had brought with them.

Once bound, Cedric was pulled to his feet. His blank eyes drifted in her direction, but she still couldn't make a sound. The crushing grasp on her windpipe was too much.

"Take them to the coach, and be quick. Dispatch anyone who sees you. We must get back to port in time for the morning tide."

The man strangling her then let go, only to strike her across the back of her head, and she knew no more.