Page 26 of The Duke's Stolen Heart
He dropped his hold on Antonia’s waist and gloved hand. The song had ended. They stood at the edge of the dance floor, staring one another down.
“I am not my father,” Havencrest declared with tightly leashed emotion. He bowed and left her there.
Even Antonia comprehended the rudeness of being left alone at the edge of the dance floor. At the conclusion of a dance, he was supposed to return her to her companions. It was simply not done. Antonia watched Lady Jersey and Princess Esterhazy buttonhole him on either side.
“Is he as awful as everyone claims?” asked an auburn-haired woman who appeared at her side. Antonia started. The familiar drawl of the American south curled around soft syllables and elongated vowels. Annabelle Kilpatrick’s green eyes bored into hers.
“Havencrest? Worse,” Antonia muttered as she permitted the woman whose friendship she had once callously exploited to guide her away from the dancers.
“Come and tell us all about it.”
Antonia had used them, yet here were three women, welcoming her into their embrace. For once, she did not have the heart to turn away friendship. Havencrest had broken through her defenses. Tonight, Antonia welcomed any solace she could find amongst strangers—even in the arms of a man she could not trust.
