Page 57 of Corrupting his Duchess
Anna returned to her seat with measured grace, though her heart had yet to settle from the dance. The hush that had accompanied their movements had lifted, but the air near her still felt curiously altered, charged and watchful.
She hadn’t fully arranged her skirts before Gretchen appeared at her side, fan half-unfurled and eyes sharp with restrained interest.
“Well,” she said quietly, “you have given the room something to whisper about.”
Julia was next, sliding in with the effortless air of someone delighted by drama. Her eyes sparkled with amusement. “That was no waltz, my dear. That was a conversation in another language, and I’d very much like the translation.”
Anna lifted her brows, lips tightening to conceal the flutter of a smile. “It was a dance.”
“A dance,” Julia echoed, aghast. “Then I shall very much like a glass of whatever brandy left you looking like that.”
Behind them, Natalie perched at the edge of her chair. “You looked... very content.”
Anna hesitated, then lowered her voice. “It was nothing.”
“Oh, come now,” Julia said, her voice lilting. “You looked rather as if he’d written you a poem with his fingertips.”
“Julia,” Gretchen murmured, her fan snapped open. “Let her breathe.”
Anna said nothing, grateful for the rescue. Still, she could feel the glances across the room, feathers shifting, fans fluttering, laughter that stopped too quickly to be natural.
Gretchen’s gaze followed hers. “Lady Winwood has nearly spilled her cordial from staring.”
“And Lady Dellington looks personally offended,” Julia added with delight. “They think you’ve ensnared him.”
Anna stiffened. “I’ve done no such thing.”
Julia leaned in with mock solemnity. “Perhaps not intentionally. But it does appear he’s rather well caught.”
Sophia had drifted near during the exchange and paused behind Anna’s chair. She said nothing. But she offered the faintest of smiles before turning away again, perfectly serene.
“Let it pass,” Gretchen said gently, resting a gloved hand over Anna’s. “They’ll tire of it once the next guest stumbles into scandal.”
“Perhaps I should do something dreadfully improper,” Julia said airily, “and save you the trouble.”
Natalie giggled. Gretchen sighed. Anna kept her gaze on her lap, her fingers smoothing the line of her gloves, trying not to smile, and failing just a little.
Their laughter softened as Sophia excused herself, summoned toward the pianoforte by her mother’s expectant glance. Julia followed, swept up by a passing cousin with a fan and a secret. Natalie drifted to greet a friend near the card tables. Only Anna and Gretchen remained by the chairs, the noise of the room cresting and dipping around them.
Gretchen took a careful sip of her cordial. “You danced twice.”
Anna turned her head, brows lifting. “Is that a crime?”
“No,” Gretchen replied, a faint smile ghosting across her lips. “But it is... noteworthy.”
Anna looked down at her gloves, smoothing a wrinkle that wasn’t there. “It was a dance. It was only polite.”
“Of course,” Gretchen murmured. “Though I must say, few men inspire such persistent politeness from you.”
“Perhaps,” Gretchen said. “But there was a moment during the second where I couldn’t decide if I should look away… or look harder.”
Anna blinked, startled. “Gretchen?—”
“I’m not judging,” she said quickly, her voice soft. “Only observing. As I always do.”
Anna exhaled softly through her nose, not quite a laugh.
Her gaze drifted toward the far end of the ballroom, where Henry stood speaking with Lord Elwick, his expression unreadable.
