Page 16 of A Virgin for the Ruthless Duke

“My Lady,” the Duke of Nothingham called, reminding her that she did have someone waiting for her.

From the cold look in his eyes, it was obvious that he had not been blind to the fact that she had spent the better part of five minutes staring at Seymour like a lost puppy.

“I believe the dance is starting,” he said, offering her his arm while she studiously avoided his gaze.

The dance was a mostly quiet affair, for her partner seemed to have decided to keep quiet.

Several times, she caught herself searching the dance floor for Seymour. At last, she spotted him dancing with the golden-haired beauty. He was smiling at something the young lady had said, and at that moment, Selina would have given anything to know what they were talking about that had him so captivated.

“Why do you not go to him?” her partner asked in a gruff tone, causing her head to snap up in surprise.

“Go to who, Your Grace?” Selina returned, plastering on an innocent smile, hoping that he had not caught her staring again.

“To the Duke of Seymour, My Lady,” he said with a forced smile. “I might be young, but I am not stupid. You have spent most of the dance seeking him out with your eyes when you thought no one was looking, and he was doing exactly the same when he thought no one was looking too.”

Richard was seeking me out too? He showed no inclination to do so when his carriage was so calm and peaceful.

“I think you might be mistaken, Your Grace. I do not think of the Duke in that manner, and he definitely doesnotsee me in that light.”

As she spoke, Selina suddenly realized that the music had come to an end. Her dance partner bowed to her, before offering her his arm and leading her off the dance floor.

“I might be young, My Lady, but I am a man, and the looks exchanged between you both were nothing short of incendiary,” Nothingham said with a rueful grin. “Thank you for the wonderful dance, My Lady. I hope you can smoothen things out with your Duke.”

“He is notmy—” she started to protest but stopped when the man strode away after a brief bow. It seemed he did not want to listen to her excuses.

Seymour could not have feelings for her when he was surrounded by several beautiful, fresh-faced debutantes. Apart from making suggestions about her wardrobe, the man had not made another effort to strike up a conversation with her. She did not understand where her dance partner had come up with the ridiculous notion that he might be interested in her in a romantic way.

She was a confident person, naturally, but she was well aware of her strengths and flaws. She was an older young lady, fast on her way to spinsterhood, with tendencies to be more opinionated than was good for her.

Selina was hardly a catch for a man like the Duke of Seymour, who was a public figure in his own right—handsome, with the perfect blend of brooding and charming tendencies that made him one of the most eligible bachelors in England.

To think that he would forgo the chance to be with a beautiful, innocent debutante to be withherwas to be possessed of a delusion of the highest order.

Selina was suddenly angry with the Duke of Nothingham for planting such a thought in her head.

“You have outdone yourself, my dear,” an excited voice said from beside her, making her look up until she met her aunt’s hazel eyes.

Martha’s eyes were dancing with merriment at the moment, and her overly plump body was vibrating with happiness.

“Good evening, Aunt Martha,” Selina greeted in a dry voice. “I thought you would be resting this evening.”

“Silly girl,” her aunt said, swatting her arm. “If I did not come, who would keep an eye on you girls? Besides, I am glad I have attended this particular event because I get to witness the turn in your fortune. You had more admirers this evening than in your previous Season. Whoever advised you to wear the green dress did a good deed and needs to be rewarded,” she said, her mouth splitting into a smile.

“If everything continues in this manner, it is safe to say that you will be married before the end of this Season.” She clapped her hands together in excitement. “Continue what you are doing—it is working!”

The sight of her aunt smiling so widely was surprising to Selina. The elderly woman was usually foreboding and disapproving—always ready to criticize. She had given Selina grief on the matter of her unmarried state, insisting that it was her strong opinions that scared all potential suitors away.

Selina had never thought that she could do anything to please the grumpy older lady. A part of her was soothed by the thought that she had her approval. No matter how overbearing Martha was, she was the only motherly influence Selina had in her life since her parents had died several years ago. Selina was grateful to her for looking out for them, even though she did not always approve of her methods.

“Pray tell,” Martha continued, drawing her out of her reverie, “who is the fashion genius behind your transformation? I really want to reward them.”

“It was the Duke of Seymour,” Selina blurted out.

“Seymour?” her aunt asked, a puzzled expression creasing her brow. “What would he know about fashion, and what business does he have with you?”

“He owed me a favor and decided to pay it by telling me which color he felt best suited my complexion and eyes.”

“I must say he has a good eye,” Martha said with a nod. “But then Seymour is the perfect gentleman. Kind, handsome, and charming. He is perfect, except for the fact that he has flighty Johanna as a mother.” She shook her head in pity.

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