My Disfigured Duke Husband Helps Me Plot My Revenge
Chapter 270: First Dance

Chapter 270: First Dance

During the beginnings of courtship at a social event meant for expanding one’s social circle or perhaps on their wedding day. Those were the usual times when a couple would likely experience dancing with one another for the first time.

Dancing wasn’t inherently intimate considering it was something that could be done with friends or family. Yet, depending on one’s partner, it could be a nerve-wracking experience that would be memorable enough to carry on for the rest of their lives.

Desmond and Leonor had never had the pleasure of a first dance. Their intimacy felt unshakable as they explored that side of their lives so thoroughly.

However, as they walked down the grand staircase that put them at the heart of the ballroom, Leonor’s heart was racing as she finally realized the pressure of the situation. Perhaps her worries were misplaced when she spent the last couple of weeks unable to sleep or eat well due to the impending reality of having to face her father.

She should have been worried about embracing Desmond in front of the Castillian nobility. Any misstep could make it seem like their affectionate showing was a fraud. How would two people who were rumored to love each other so thoroughly never have danced with one another? It should come naturally to them, shouldn’t it?

Leonor had danced for quite a few people in her life at the events she was sparingly allowed to attend. However, it always seemed that she was pressured to dance with people she found disgusting so it was never exactly a desirable experience.

While her younger sister got eligible people, she was forced to dance with older men who had good relationships with her father or unruly sons who Count Mikael couldn’t trust with his diamond Anna Marie.

Desmond surprised Leonor by taking her to the middle of the floor and bowing to her with his hand outstretched. His etiquette was perfect.

He kissed the back of her hand when she returned his gesture and straightened up so he could pull her closer.

They started off at an appropriate distance from one another. With Leonor gazing up at her handsome husband, a smile remained on her face. It was important for them to seem natural yet proper.

"I’m nervous to ask where you learned to dance so well," Leonor admitted just loud enough to be heard over the music.

"The months I spent in the palace were spent grooming me into someone suitable for the position of Duke and so I wouldn’t embarrass the Royal Family," Desmond admitted.

Even though logically Leonor knew that it would be hard for him to find a dance partner especially when he was so freshly injured, she still felt jealous of whoever taught him.

"Who...?" she trailed off, not sure if she could handle if his teacher was one of the beautiful eligible noble daughters around Castille. Even if they didn’t like him, they could look past his appearance for the wealth he sat on top of.

She was mad at a scenario that hadn’t even happened.

"Stephano," Desmond whispered as he invaded Leonor’s space a bit more. "I taught him sword fighting and he taught me to dance."

Leonor nearly tripped in her step to the side but Desmond managed to make up for her misstep. It would be hard to notice amongst her fluffy skirts anyway.

"Then he danced as a woman?" she asked in disbelief.

"Among the palace’s secrets, one of them is that the King dances wonderfully as a woman," Desmond joked.

Time passed quickly as they joked with one another. It went by so easily that Leonor hardly noticed when others joined them on the dance floor and she was forced to stay even closer to her husband.

She didn’t know his actions were on purpose. He had felt how her hands shook as they began dancing. His entire purpose that evening was making sure she was feeling alright while her purpose that evening was to be sure he wasn’t imploding due to the pressure of everyone’s opinions weighing heavily on him.

They mutually used one another with no malice behind their purposes. It was simply the dealings of two people in love, protecting the other one from having to feel uncomfortable because of the people around them.

The dance started as nerve-wracking but then Leonor got used to the pace of things and a genuine smile found its way to her face as she danced with the love of her life for the very first time.

Her father, who had remained at his table all evening despite normally being someone who came to these sorts of events to stir up trouble and build connections, would never know that the man he sent to war to make his daughter miserable was the man at her side at that moment. Even if it wasn’t revenge that would slap him in the face, it was still revenge.

Her happiness was her revenge.

It didn’t make her feel worse. It made her realize that the biggest problem in her life no longer had anything to do with her father or sister but preserving the happiness she had found.

She felt so bad that her father would be a miserable person forever that his behavior worried her. Despite everything, she didn’t want him to fall into ruin. As spiteful and petty as her sister was, she hoped that they remained in high standing and wealthy because otherwise they would become her problem and she would be ridiculed if she didn’t help out the people who were supposed to be her family.

They were on the floor for two dances with each other.

While Leonor had built up her stamina, wearing additional weight in the form of a massive gown was sapping her energy quickly.

"Would you like a refreshment?" she asked. "I need a break."

"Yes, my love," Desmond said, dropping her title for the first time that evening because only she could hear him. "Anything you want."

Getting out of the ballroom was easy. The clear path around them while they danced was because they didn’t want to be anywhere close to the disfigured duke.

Desmond soon led her off of the dance floor and they looked up towards the table they had once sat with Cion and Quinn.

King Stephano stood there with his fists clenched at his side and a perturbed expression on his face. He was certainly supporting the theory that he was a volatile man considering he was capable of murdering his own father.

It was whatever the people wanted to believe. If they supported the late King, he was a murderer, if they opposed the late King, they were thrilled by the lack of greed and punishment of people who had been taking advantage for decades.

Desmond realized he lost Leonor at that moment.

She turned towards him as if to apologize then she lifted her skirts and began to stalk forward towards the grand staircase that would take her up to the area they were seated at away from the general partygoer.

However, Desmond grabbed her wrist before she could leave.

"Leonor, don’t," he pleaded. "As I said before, it is not your battle to fight. Those two need to figure it out for themselves."

She knew it would be bad if she resisted Desmond in front of the others so she returned to his side and placed her hand on the arm that was once guiding her forth before she saw Stephano making such an expression.

"You’re... unfortunately right," she relented. "I just want happiness for all of us."

Desmond angled his head downward and his hood obscured his face, much like it used to at the beginning of their marriage when he was always hiding himself from her.

"Can I be selfish enough to ask that you make me happy right now instead of worrying about the others?" Desmond requested. "If you’re not by my side this evening, I have no reason to remain here. Stephano exercised his power just as he wanted to."

Leonor returned to Desmond’s space and she placed her free hand on his cheek, forcing him to look at her and no longer conceal his expression. He seemed faintly sad.

He didn’t want to admit to her that he thought he might be pulled away if the war escalated. It was his greatest fear to have to leave her behind. At least he knew she would be safe in the capital if he had to go, but the thought of having to miss her again made him sick to his stomach.

He couldn’t sleep after some of his meetings knowing what possibly lay ahead.

For the time being, he wanted the night to be memorable. The only way to do that was to let go.

For the guests in attendance, the Martins had provided the palace with white wine and it was chilled for the partygoers to cool off if they wanted to.

Despite it being winter, the ballroom was hot with so many bodies intermingling and dancing inside.

As they walked to an area where a maid was ready to pour wine, Desmond instead reached towards a metal basin where the wine was kept cold. He grabbed an entire bottle and the maid looked at him cautiously.

"Thank you," Desmond smirked at her as he left.

Leonor was so taken aback she could only be led forward by her husband. He was calling the shots that night it seemed so she decided to follow his lead.