Jack had kept an eye on her--discreetly, of course--while he mixed and mingled. Any fool knew not to bring an unhappy bride to a party like this and leave her completely to her own devices for long. Not that he thought Marie would take up with some local bozo or cause a scene; she seemed like too much of a lady for that. But she hadn't exactly made a secret of her displeasure with him, either, and the last thing he needed was for her to get sauced and start telling people what a louse she thought he was.
If he was going to succeed at winning over the good people of Lethevale, he needed to appear trustworthy and kind. A lovely, charming wife who believed in and adored him would be a major asset; a bitterly disappointed bride who despised him could ruin everything. So when he saw Marie's eyes light up for him, with a spark of the same delight he'd seen there when they were courting, the smile he offered her brightened with genuine gratitude.
She had loved him in New York; he was certain of that. God knew she had every reason to hate him now. But when she laughed for him, and when she was looking at him like she had back in her daddy's parlor, Jack had no trouble at all remembering how much he could enjoy her company. With her in a hansom cab beside him, tearing through the streets of Manhattan, he'd felt like he really was the man he pretended to be: successful, dashing, and carefree. And now, as he took her hand gently in his own and led her away from the bar, he could believe he was that person once again. With her at his side and the music singing in his veins, he felt charming and unstoppable, a showman for the ages.
"I'm not going to let anything happen to you." His tone said he was teasing her--for what could happen to her on a dance floor, really?--but the affection in his eyes added more weight to the words than he'd intended. Jack pressed a hand to Marie's lower back and pulled her close. The other raised her hand to shoulder-level, keeping his touch as light as he could while still providing enough structure to lead. "Just listen to the music, Sweetpea. And trust me!"
He could feel the rhythm in the music like a second heartbeat, begging to be followed. Jack nodded to Marie with the first few beats of it, his smile widening--one, and two, and here they went!--and she felt magnificent against him as he began to lead her in a purely instinctive set of circling steps, and who wouldn't be thrilled to be seen dancing with a woman like this? His fingertips pressed a bit more firmly into the small of her back, possessively keeping her close even as the music quickened and their steps quickened with it.
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If he was going to succeed at winning over the good people of Lethevale, he needed to appear trustworthy and kind. A lovely, charming wife who believed in and adored him would be a major asset; a bitterly disappointed bride who despised him could ruin everything. So when he saw Marie's eyes light up for him, with a spark of the same delight he'd seen there when they were courting, the smile he offered her brightened with genuine gratitude.
She had loved him in New York; he was certain of that. God knew she had every reason to hate him now. But when she laughed for him, and when she was looking at him like she had back in her daddy's parlor, Jack had no trouble at all remembering how much he could enjoy her company. With her in a hansom cab beside him, tearing through the streets of Manhattan, he'd felt like he really was the man he pretended to be: successful, dashing, and carefree. And now, as he took her hand gently in his own and led her away from the bar, he could believe he was that person once again. With her at his side and the music singing in his veins, he felt charming and unstoppable, a showman for the ages.
"I'm not going to let anything happen to you." His tone said he was teasing her--for what could happen to her on a dance floor, really?--but the affection in his eyes added more weight to the words than he'd intended. Jack pressed a hand to Marie's lower back and pulled her close. The other raised her hand to shoulder-level, keeping his touch as light as he could while still providing enough structure to lead. "Just listen to the music, Sweetpea. And trust me!"
He could feel the rhythm in the music like a second heartbeat, begging to be followed. Jack nodded to Marie with the first few beats of it, his smile widening--one, and two, and here they went!--and she felt magnificent against him as he began to lead her in a purely instinctive set of circling steps, and who wouldn't be thrilled to be seen dancing with a woman like this? His fingertips pressed a bit more firmly into the small of her back, possessively keeping her close even as the music quickened and their steps quickened with it.