Page 23 of His Tempting Duchess

She glared at him again. “I am talking about Greek mythology.”

“Ah, I see. So, this Ares does not need to carry away his Aphrodite, then?”

Before Miss Belmont could respond, she glanced at something over his shoulder.

Cassian turned to look and frowned.

A gentleman was striding towards them. He was not tall, but rather plumpish, with greasy, slicked-back dark hair and a determined expression on his face. Like Richard, he clearly considered himself too important for a costume, for he was wearing an ordinary suit, with a domino mask dangling around his neck.

He strode up to them and gave a short bow.

“Miss Belmont,” he greeted, his voice plummy and cultured. He shot Cassian a brief, disdainful look. “I have come to take you for refreshments.”

Cassian said nothing, glancing across at Miss Belmont. He didn’t know the man, but it was clear that he knewher.

Miss Belmont looked deeply uncomfortable.

“No, thank you, Mr. Evans,” she responded. “You’re very kind.”

“I insist,” the man said firmly. “And after, we’ll dance a set. I’m sure your esteemed mother would not object. Movement is most healthful for the female body.” He extended a hand expectantly, and Miss Belmont flinched slightly.

“My good sir, perhaps you misheard,” Cassian spoke up lazily. “Miss Belmont does not wish for refreshment at this time.”

Mr. Evans shot him a glare. “I would be obliged, Your Grace, if you would stay out of it. Ladies are, as I’m sure you’re aware, rather fragile. I believe Miss Belmont needs refreshment and exercise, in that order. Miss Belmont, please. Come along.”

Miss Belmont cleared her throat, glancing at Cassian out of the corner of her eye. “I… I’ll stay here, Mr. Evans.”

He pouted, almost like a child. “Come, come, Miss Belmont. Don’t make me insist. I’m sure your esteemed mother would not like to hear of this.”

I daresay this isn’t the first time he’s bothered her.

Cassian rose to his feet.

But it shall be the last.

The top of Mr. Evans’ head barely reached Cassian’s shoulder. The man was forced to tip his head back to look Cassian in the eye.

Something like regret began to creep over his face.

“The lady has said no, dear chap,” Cassian said softly. “When a lady tells youno, she only ought to say it once. Now, if you wish to run and tell tales to Lady St. Maur, you may do so. Although from what I know of her, I am not sure it will have the effect you expect. In the meantime, you had better run along, before I getreallyangry. Is that quite understood?”

Mr. Evans opened his mouth as if to say something, then wisely snapped it shut. Throwing a quick, mournful look at Miss Belmont and a nervous one at Cassian, he turned on his heel and scurried away.

Cassian made sure he was leaving before he turned back to Miss Belmont. She was staring up at him with a strange expression on his face.

Raising his eyebrows, he held out his hand.

“Come, Miss Belmont,” he said. “It’s time to dance.”

CHAPTER8

Thankfully, Emily was wrong about her costume being too difficult to dance in.

The duke led her onto the dance floor, where a waltz was just starting up. Her heart hammered in her chest, and she felt as if all eyes were on her. When she glanced around, itdidseem as if all eyes were on her.

“I hope you are comfortable with the waltz, Miss Belmont,” the duke murmured, leaning down until his lips almost grazed the shell of her ear. It sent delicious shivers down her spine, which she did her best to ignore. “I know some ladies consider itquiteinappropriate.”

“After the scandals my family has weathered, I should think that a waltz is the least of our concerns,” Emily responded dryly.

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