Free Eliza Lloyd by One Last Night

had remade himself as a young man. There was no
reason to believe he could not do it again, not when the stakes were so high.
    His Lucy would always be his duchess.

Chapter Seven
     
    John, or rather the Duca di Lazio, did not arrive in England
until after the season had started, with valet in tow. He’d let a modest but
respectable home. He presented himself to the appropriate homes with his
letters of introduction and within a few days had received a surprising number
of invitations to balls and soirees, to which Lucy would have also been
invited.
    When his name was announced at the Marquess and Marchioness
of Scarborough’s ball, John felt a moment of anxiety. Was he doing the right
thing for Lucy? It was one thing to be her lover…but her husband? Maybe the
father of her child or children?
    He’d spent what seemed a lifetime being desired by women.
For much of that time, he had believed his physique was a curse. Poverty and
aloneness had driven his ambition to be something—Alice, of course, knew how to
profit from his only real asset.
    Lucy, however, had changed his ambition into something
greater. Maybe honor and love wouldn’t ever feed him or warm him but…
    Then she was announced and John turned to stare at her as
she descended the staircase into the Scarborough’s dancing hall. He couldn’t
help but smile, ignoring the grand dame who had her arm wrapped in his, telling
him about her recent visit to Naples. He’d never seen the dress Lucy was
wearing—a shimmering gown the color of lilacs. Her shoulders gleamed and her
dark hair was piled high with a few wispy strands hanging in curls.
    She was a duchess. And in the world’s eyes, John Allen would
never be good enough for her. The Duca di Lazio would.
    Lucy did not dance though there were plenty of men who bowed
over her hand and a few of them who lingered. He was introduced to several
eligible women, a few of whom asked if they knew him. He chose not to dwell on
his past and to which women he might have stood stud, another of whom was
quizzing him about his background.
    “Have you been to the Pontine Islands?” he asked
distractedly. His gaze followed Lucy until she was lost in the crowd.
    “Where is that?”
    John endured the questions, the subtle glances and the
torture of waiting for the right moment.
    It took an hour before he was led to the most beautiful
woman in the room. Lucy was all smiles, staring up at the countess who led him
her way.
    “Your Grace,” John said as he bowed over and then kissed her
gloved hand. He squeezed gently before he released.
    Her smile had frozen on her face and her eyes glistened with
tears but she said nothing.
    “Might I be so bold as to request a dance, Your Grace?”
    “Certainly.” Her voice was steady but shy.
    “Ah, the music has started.” He held out his arm and she
clutched him as he led her to the floor. In the center of the room, he nodded
to her once again, placed his hand on her waist and held his hand high.
    “I won’t step on your toes,” he said quietly, for her ears
only. He didn’t hear the cacophony around him, he heard only her.
    “John,” she whispered.
    “Di Lazio, at your service.”
    His step was sure and Lucy followed as if they were meant to
dance every waltz together. They stared at each other through each turn.
    “I can’t believe you are here,” she said at last.
    He smiled. “I had a dream of a beautiful woman who would
sweep me off my feet, so I left my home in Italy to find her. And now that I’ve
met her, I feel myself falling madly in love. I think I will ask her to be my
wife.”
    “What if she is already married?”
    “Then he is the luckiest man alive.”
    “I need you, John.” She held his hand fiercely.
    “And I you, my love. But you deserve so much more than plain
John Allen.”
    “I love you as you are.”
    “And I love you as you are and I won’t let anyone take it
from you.”
    The dance was coming to an end. “Come to me tonight,”