“Hey,” he protests.

"Indeed."

...That just slips out, and he does not like what he hears. The lad may be soft, but he is his Court Wizard, and he did handle the business with Edmund rather well. And this was a term of an agreement, and he intends to honour it. 

He claps Ambrose on the shoulder. Ignores the lack of any palpable muscle tone. He speaks the way he used to rally frightened recruits, solid steely look. "Lord Ambrose. Calm yourself. Have a drink, be composed, and remember that you are a worthy choice. She cannot, in fact, hurt you."

And he goes to speak with this girl's family. 

She does not like this. Not one bit. And come to think of it, she is not sure when she became responsible for the newly-fledged duke not totally embarrassing himself. But the fact remains that the man will be one of her Bridgertons and wields fantastic power already and she cannot not support him. 

Besides, he is at least refreshing. 

"Lord Kreel," she says as curtly as she can plausibly deny. 

"Duke Voltur," he greets the jumped-up commoner with a flawlessly polite bow. 

It has been a very long time since he has had to play this part, to be humbled and know his place no matter how unfair it might feel. Perhaps it will be salutary. 

He feels that it will not be for long. 

"A pleasure to have your introduction at last." A very subtle insult there, he won't notice it. "I trust you are enjoying the function?"

His hackles go up. 

He tucks his hands behind his back to keep them from twitching towards where his sword should be (the bag of holding may be convenient, but it just feels wrong). 

"Lord Kreel," he says firmly. "I wish to speak to you of your daughter. The Lord Ambrose, Court Wizard Most Sagacious to the Archduchy of Volturgard, seeks her hand." Sorry, Eloise. "I come to ask your permission on his behalf, and discuss... arrangements."

"Does he indeed?" he asks politely. "I am most honoured, I am sure."

Hmm. 

On the first level: not disastrous, possibly beneficial. Galora is not his only daughter, though the only one on the marriage mart this season. She has come to be something of a disappointment after her promising childhood, easily controlled with a little fatherly affection here and there and a much healthier dose of fear. Rather like her mother. Not a valueless piece, but not his most important daughter either. Perhaps spinning her off as a foothold in the new Archduchy would be the best use of her. 

"Lord Ambrose" is an unknown. A minor gentleman clawing his way up - but not likely to be truly ambitious. Although the new "Duke" does change things - he introduces more variance...

On the deeper level, the "Duke" making this move is a mystery. This commoner with a big sword probably isn't playing the game himself, but he could easily be a playing-piece of that infernal Danbury woman, or perhaps even of Her Majesty herself. A favour to Ambrose, perhaps? That implies that someone owes him a considerable amount. For what, one wonders? Some concern of a wizard? Requiring sworn secrecy, perhaps? 

He thinks this, while his eyes crinkle and his mouth smiles. "Your candour is most appreciated, Your Grace. I am sure my dear Galora would be happy to accept his courtship. You will come to take snuff with me?" He doesn't drink much at these things, though he very carefully pretends to. He always likes to be the most sober person in the room. "There is much I would like to discuss with you, if you give me leave, Your Grace."

He really really doesn't like this. 

But he goes after the man with the snake eyes. 

Eloise Bridgerton is coming towards her. Unusual. Bringing a boy with her. Even more unusual. 

Well, this will be worth seeing, at least. 

She smiles and takes this old fool's name on her dance card and curtsies and turns away with the manner of a woman snuffing a candle. He staggers away. 

"Miss Bridgerton," she smiles. 

“Miss Kreel,” she greets in return. She’s always found Galora uncomfortable to be around, and this is no exception. “May I introduce a friend of mine? Lord Ambrose Deneith.”

He opens his mouth, but no sound comes out.

For fuck’s sake Ambrose, try again–

”Ahem.” He bows, hiding his blushing face. “Miss Kreel. May I have this dance?”

To her absolute amazement, she finds herself smiling a tiny little bit without planning to.

Hmm. 

It's not her current plan, of ending up married off to an older man who can peacefully die in his sleep and leave her a wealthy enough widow to begin to move against Father. But it doesn't do to destroy all your other options, most of the time. And it's worth finding out what exactly he's doing in the company of the new Duke and Eloise Bridgerton. 

She looks into his eyes, and he colours further. Seems to collapse on himself. 

Oh, that's lovely. 

She gives him a real smile, the slow one, the one she learned from Father's special room. 

"Of course."

!!!!!

“Oh,” he smiles wide. “That is excellent.”

She sighs. What a hopeless boy.

…He should probably actually do something now. He hadn’t been expecting this to go so well so quickly– Gods, he cannot take his eyes away from her.

Galora. Galora, what a beautiful name, he could shout it from the rooftops–

Ambrose holds out his right hand for her to take, exposing the strange birthmark on his palm.

She takes it and steps closer fluidly, leaning in to whisper. 

Her sharp fingernails trace ghostlike along the scar on his palm, unbearably ticklish, digging in suddenly. Her voice is sweet. "What is this?"

Still hypnotised by Galora, he does not quite register her question at first. 

“A mere birthmark,” he answers, his voice a murmur. “Does it displease you, Miss Kreel?”

Eloise gives the two lovebirds some room. Gods know they have stopped acknowledging her presence, anyway.

Galora turns her head birdlike and winks at Eloise suddenly. Is she flustered?

She turns back to the boy. 

"Not at all," she whispers softly, eyes so so wide as she leans in closer. 

He reacts so wonderfully to everything. She wants to make him do it more. 

When she's closer than the dance really allows for, she murmurs, "I was surprised to see Miss Bridgerton introduce you." She watches his eyes very carefully.

She turns a bright red herself, hastening her exit.

Ambrose moves well in the dance. A little stiff, but his feet are light and dextrous, and he executes all the moves with technical proficiency, like he studied them in a book. His hands are placed perfectly respectfully on Galora’s upper waist – but even so, just being this close to her is enough to send his heart beating through his chest. 

He cannot lie to her, even to make himself seem less pathetic.

“…It was a condition of my service to her betrothed, the Duke of Volturgard, that she introduce me to you.” He draws in a breath. “I thought it would be, ah– proper.”

She dances flawlessly, of course, but there's more to it in some indefinable way. 

Now this is interesting. That's a very high price to pay for a simple introduction. So Eloise wouldn't have done it merely as a favour? No, he probably expects more support as well - that explains where the new Duke has gone with Father. 

Still, here is a man happy to pay very high costs for her. That's not something to ignore. 

She needs to know more. 

And it's not exactly objectionable to watch him stammer in that adorable way. 

Well, time to squeeze and see what goes crack. 

She shifts her own hand placement on his shoulder - in a little, so her thumb can trace down the side of his chest and her fingers can ghost over his neck. 

She leans in closer. A tiny little bit too close. 

"Do you always do things the proper way?" she murmurs. 

“No,” he breathes, before realising what he has just said. He… cannot tear his eyes away from hers, so green, so green…

“You are worth doing things the proper way.”

Galora Kreel could have anyone she wants at the drop of a hat. 

It has been some time now since he first saw her, the picture of grace, like an angel in white during her debut. It was love at first sight – for him at least. She probably never noticed him until now, until he finally plucked up the courage to approach her like this. 

“I should very much like to call on you tomorrow, Miss Kreel.” He speaks so softly to her.

Oh. That's fast. Well, that worked better than she thought it would.

That's odd. Why is she afraid at that?

...Is she afraid for him?

That's... not a way she normally feels. 

...Focus. Breathe. There are more important things.

The main advantage of her previous plan was that Father could easily come to believe it was his idea. If this is something that he will prefer - and he has wanted power over the new Archduke (she would never say that word in front of him, but she knows how angry it makes him to be inferior to a peasant) - then she should at least not oppose it. 

She finds herself casting about for something else that shows her interest, but she has no way to deflect, and keeping Ambrose away from her house where he'll be safe is not something she can afford. 

All this she has already calculated, and she doesn't hesitate a moment to smile widely and say "I am sure I would... enjoy that very much."

She tightens her grip on him. Looks through him in that way she can sometimes. What does she need from him? Not to stay as far away from Father as he can, she wants that but can't have it, she needs him to... ultimately, be a better base of support for assassinating Father and suborning his heir than a rich old man would be. Which he might be, he is a friend of Eloise and a wizard, he's more likely to be open to such things, enough to be easily molded in that direction... the Duke is an unknown. 

She cannot afford to waste valuable time with him poking at his deepest hopes and fears and seeing what interesting faces he makes, badly though she wants to. 

"May I ask what my father thought of this when you spoke to him?" Tricks like this can be dangerous, but it's a good one - if she just asked if he's secretly conspiring with Father he'd just deny it, but people often have trouble tracking all the implications of their lies in real time. Especially if she moves in this way that makes her corset ride up and her neckline slip down.