He paused another moment to look at her. “This is a trait you appreciate?”
“Yes, of course!”
He curled one side of his lips. “Then you’ll understand when I request that you wait here while I enter the ballroom before you.”
She looked surprised and then ashamed when she nodded and stepped back.
“There’s nothing to be ashamed of, my lady. I’m simply saving your reputation.”
Without waiting for her reply, he stepped inside the ballroom. The musicians stopped playing. People stopped dancing. He barely noticed them as he turned to his father and bowed. His father and his stepmother were staring at him when he straightened. They wouldn’t say a word to him here, but their eyes lingered on his hair and the lacy bow hanging down his back.
Was that the slightest hint of a warm smile on his father’s face?
Of course not, Gray thought. His father never smiled at him.
Granting it no further attention, he turned to his father’s guest. Gray knew where Duke Hamilton stood. He’d spotted the oversized duke the moment he’d entered the ballroom. When his eyes met the duke’s, he thought he should have powdered his hair red. Red for war. But silver gray was the next best thing. He didn’t care enough to go to war. Well, maybe a bit of a fight. Gray grinned and winked at the duke with cold eyes.
He turned his gaze to the musicians and gave them a silent warning to play the music brought to them or risk disobeying the duke of Devon’s son, and lord of this castle.
The violin picked up and drew Gray’s attention to the musician. It was a man. He blew out a breath. That was the end of Harper harping on his thoughts.
He tapped his foot on the freshly polished floor when the other musicians blended their sound together. He liked this new composer Ludwig van Beethoven’s music. He let the music seep into him. He didn’t need a special score to dance the way he did. He just needed to feel. And when he danced, he did.
The moment he stepped onto the dance floor, the other guests made way for him until he stood alone in the center of the floor.
Though they all heard the same music in their ears, Gray moved to it differently. He thought it silly that folks thought he could speak with animals. No, it was music that spoke to him. He was able to isolate his movements so that they moved exactly as the sound directed. He made eye-contact with everyone as he turned his knees outward and then bent them low. He came back up rolling his chest and shoulders, smiling and drawing in his bottom lip. He watched wives and daughters swoon on their feet but none of them held his attention for longer than a breath.
He hung his lifeless arms down for a moment of impact. He moved around the floor on quick, light feet, stretching his arms and legs as the music freed him.
When he stopped, he stood before Duke Hamilton. Gray’s slight grin was more intimidating than the most fearsome scowl. He shook his head and his finger at the man whose jowls trembled. Fascinating how pale a man could become.
“Your Grace,” Gray said over the music. Almost immediately after, it stopped. “We all heard what your son Reginald did to the women who were left alive when their small town in Anjou was attacked by Reginald’s regiment. Does it not shame you?”
The duke looked around nervously at the people listening. Gray knew if he denied it—or that it shamed him, the other nobles would look down on him. “My son was already brought before the king and has paid a hefty fine.”
“That was not what I asked you. Let me ask again. Does it not shame you that your son attacked women after he killed their husbands, and they had no one to defend them?”
The duke looked pleadingly toward Gray’s father, then lowered his gaze.
“Poor duke, you should see your miscreant son sent to the front lines. Better that he die than shame your family any further, hmm? I’ll write to the king on your behalf about reinstating him to his regiment.”
While the duke stammered and shook in his chair, Gray made his way back to the center of the floor and bent his knees apart and outward again, but this time accompanied by his arms lifted at his sides with his forearms hanging limp. He danced, letting the strips hanging from his coat insinuate that he was being moved. But then, in a burst of fury clearly played out on his face, he spun like a destructive whirlwind. His thoughts of knocking some of the guests into Harper’s future made him want to laugh. Cavendish, Gable, Hamilton—
Gable? Not Harry, but William. The younger Gable never came to the castle. For an instant Gray flicked his murderous gaze to his stepmother. She constantly invited the Gables to her balls.
He returned his gaze to Will—and then did his best not to respond when he saw Miss Darling standing close by in the crowd, watching him.
Not skipping a beat, Gray performed six pirouettes and finished with a graceful penché.
He left the dance floor, swearing in his head. He strode directly to Miss Darling.
Damnation, but her eyes were deep oceans of fathomless blue. If one wasn’t careful, one could drown in them.
“I thought we agreed that you weren’t coming.”
Her breathless smile faded, leaving a stormy, cold expression in its wake. “I changed my mind.”
Gray shifted his gaze to Will Gable. “And what are you doing here?”