Page 30 of An Unwanted Spinster for the Duke
“Withher,” she corrected, blushing at the way his tone had become suggestive with that last sentence. She almost felt like he was complimenting her for something else.
“With her,” he amended, an amused lilt in his voice.
“T-Thank you for… not letting me fall,” she said reluctantly.
Where were her manners? She might not like what he represented—the predator out to hunt and kill animals—but he had shown some chivalry earlier.
“Oh, so you know how to express gratitude, my little doe,” he murmured, making her tremble.
She was saved from acknowledging her reaction toward him when three young ladies with beaming smiles somehow found themselves by the refreshments table. And they didn’t seem too interested in the drinks. Instead, their eyes quickly fell on the Duke, their gloved hands clutching their dainty fans and fancy reticules.
“Who is the prey now?”Marianne wished to tell him as she saw the discomfort on his face.
And so she gave in to that itch.
“Seems like you’re the one being hunted tonight, Your Grace,” she whispered to him, leaning close so that only he could hear.
Dominic didn’t have time to reply to the little minx, for she had left him alone with the swarm of ladies.
Each of them had an expression that he did not appreciate: vapid and too eager. The combination was difficult to comprehend, but here they were.
“Your Grace!”
“Is it true you keep Arabian horses and use them to hunt regularly?”
“Someone said that you have never missed a shot…”
“That every shot was clean.”
Dominic felt trapped. Worse, he saw Lady Marianne walking out the door, her shoulders shaking.
That little vixen was laughing at him.
He tried his best to answer the ladies’ questions as politely as possible, asking questions equally so as not to sound self-absorbed. It was a challenging job. Being in a social gathering had already sapped most of his energy, but being actively part of conversations with these women would drain him quickly.
He realized that part of the reason he was still here was the possibility of seeing her in some strange corner. She had not disappointed him yet. And at the moment, Simon and Olivia had also not disappointed him, coming to the rescue.
“There you are!” Simon exclaimed, as dramatic as always. Just as loud, as well. He clapped a hand on Dominic’s back, hard, but Dominic didn’t mind at all. “We’ve been looking all over for you, Your Grace.”
“Yes, we were,” Olivia agreed, her grin as wide as her husband’s. “Come with us. We have something most urgent to show you, Your Grace.”
Dominic barely had time to raise an eyebrow before Simon and Olivia flanked him on either side like a pair of mischievous guards. He turned to murmur an apology to the trio of ladies who’d hounded him—who also looked dismayed, but not entirely defeated. Likely hoping for a return.
“Ladies,” he said with a shallow bow, “duty calls.”
He allowed himself to be swept—no,steered—away by his meddling friends, like a sheep herded by particularly gleeful wolves.
“Thank you,” he muttered under his breath.
“Oh, grateful, are you?” Olivia said brightly, looping her arm through his as they walked. “We knew we had to rescue you before those ladies demanded a full recounting of your mostillustrioushunts. You looked one anecdote away from miming a boar’s last squeal.”
Simon clapped him on the back. “And then they’d have begged for a demonstration of your wrestling prowess.”
“I was about five minutes from climbing out a window,” Dominic muttered.
“Three ladies at once!” Simon exclaimed in mock awe. “Your stamina is wasted on decorum. So—who gets the honor of your next dance? Or will you be doing the gentlemanly thing and allowingall of themto share you?”
“I’d rather dance with a cactus,” Dominic grumbled.
