Page 31 of Duke in Shining Armor
“You flatterer,” the duchess said as she turned to make introductions. “I am pleased to introduce you to the Earl and Countess of Windemere and their delightful daughter, Lady Catherine Davenport.”
Those piercing hazel eyes settled on her and Catherine curtsied. “I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Your Grace.”
The duke’s expression was inscrutable, and for a wild moment she wondered if he even recalled her. Perhaps she was just another face that flittered quickly out of his life.
He lowered his head in a brief bow. “The pleasure is mine, Lady Catherine. Would you do me the honor of saving me a dance?”
Catherine peered at him from beneath her lashes. She wanted to refuse by saying her dance card was full, but when she glanced at her mother, she could not deny how pleased she seemed. All within earshot were listening while pretending they were not.
“Certainly, Your Grace,” Catherine replied.
Catherine raised her card so James could see that it was at the waltz.
“I will claim the following waltz as well, Lady Catherine.”
What the devil…
There was a whisper from those who purported to be deaf, and Catherine really wished she could give James a quick kick on his shin.
“As you wish, Your Grace,” she said sweetly as she watched James bow and retreat.
She released her breath slowly, and it was only then that she realized she had been holding it. It was indeed as if the stars conspired against her. Why would he wish to dance with her twice?
She did not have much time to muse for the orchestra started its prelude, and she could see her first eager dance partner making his way to her. He claimed her hand for the first dance, and Catherine was whisked away. She summoned all her training from finishing school to dance elegantly and engage in polite conversation. She was happy when the dance concluded. She returned to the side of the ballroom, and accepted a goblet of wine when refreshments were passed around.
Her mother approached her. “Things are going quite well, Catherine, if I may say so myself. The duchess has made several introductions, and I daresay your dance card is full. I am most pleased, and so is your father.”
“She was very kind, mama,” Catherine acknowledged, her heart thrumming.
“And so was the Duke of Pembroke for he has secured two dances.”
Catherine simmered. She was sure James very well knew that it would create a scandal if she danced too frequently with him, or any man for that matter, but two dances were allowed. Nonetheless, one may lift a brow to two dances in quick succession. What was he playing at? Whatever it was, she would not have it.
Catherine resolved that the man she chose would not be a libertine or have the reputation of one. She did not want the duke. He revealed himself to be a true bounder, and despite the attraction, she hoped he would not flatter her with too much attention and incite any speculation.
The next dance started and Catherine’s partner, the Marquess of Claydon, claimed her hand. She quite enjoyed dancing with him, and she found him entertaining as he had a sense of humor. She gave a modest laugh to one of his jokes as he twirled her around on the dance floor. She caught sight of the duke at the side of the ballroom. Good heavens, he was watching her. He did not smile, and she could see his jaw was clenched. She smiled sweetly at the marquess as James glowered.
The evening passed quickly, and Catherine was pleased to be enjoying the ball. She felt the eyes of thehaut tonupon her, and she behaved with perfect decorum. It was time for the first dance with the duke, who arrived promptly to claim her hand and whisked her to the dance floor. He placed his hands on the small of her back, and she stiffened, though their bodies did not touch. She had no choice but to rest her arms lightly on his shoulders.
Catherine concentrated on the sound of musical notes when the orchestra started up, and James twirled and swirled her across the ballroom floor. She must admit that the duke had the most graceful carriage, and he was an accomplished dancer.
“You look well, Catherine,” he said softly, his gaze piercing upon her.
“Lady Catherine to you, Your Grace.”
He arched a brow. “We are no longer James and Catherine then?”
She gasped. “We are not, Your Grace,” she said firmly, not meeting his eyes.
A considering look entered his eyes. “Why did you disapp—”
Catherine flung a cutting look at James, which rightly halted his speech, for she would not discuss what occurred. She could see that he was bewildered and confounded by her decision. That was how he would remain, for she would not enlighten him. Simply because it would reveal too much of the impact he had on her. Why should he know that her heart had been crushed when he had been indifferent?
“Catherine—”
“Your Grace, we are not friends,” she said with icy civility.
His gaze grew unfathomable, but he made no reply. They moved in unison as he twirled and swirled her across the dance floor. Catherine convinced herself that she should not be affected by his touch, but she was ever so conscious of it as her skin tingled all over.
