Page 51 of Never Dare a Duke
It had been many years since he’d been the one to make a scene over anything. He almost laughed. Instead, he bowed to her and went off to another room, where Lord Paul and Lord Gerald Delane, the younger sons of the duke of Sutterly, were waiting to discuss a bill their father would soon be championing in the House of Lords.
As Abigail watched the duke leave the drawing room, she knew that the time had finally come for her escape.
She heard, “May I have this dance?” behind her back.
She turned to find Mr. Wesley waiting politely for her answer. She glanced at the door through which Madingley had disappeared. Surely she had a few minutes before she needed to leave. How could she disappoint the vicar?
While they were dancing, she asked, “Did you dance with Lady Gwen? Isn’t she graceful?”
To her amazement, he reddened. “No, it wouldn’t be right.”
“Right?” she echoed in bewilderment.
“Well, her station is so far above mine. The good people of my parish would want me to dance with you.”
And then his eyes widened, as if he’d said the wrong thing.
Gently, she said, “I know that they all think I should confine myself to conversation with you rather than the other men. But am I doing that? No. I speak—and dance—with anyone. And Society will not crumble because I do so.”
“But they’re my parishioners, Miss Shaw,” he said with patience, as if she were too foolish to understand.
“I know they are. And Lady Gwen is your friend. How can you not dance with her?”
Gwen was alone as they both glanced at her, and her lovely face seemed pale rather than happy.
“She looks like that…because of me?” he asked hesitantly.
“She does.”
“Then…I would not wish her to be unhappy.”
As the music ended, Abigail said, “Go dance with her,” and gave him a little push on his way.
Then she turned and casually left the drawing room, as if she were looking for the small room set aside for the ladies’ privacy. But she took a different corridor, then picked up speed as she hurried toward the family wing and to the duke’s rooms.
Chapter 14
Christopher hadn’t realized how long he was gone from the dance until he glanced at a mantel clock—only a quarter of an hour. But the Delanes were doing their best to convince Christopher to support Sutterly, and they’d had valid arguments.
When Christopher’s reappearance was noticed, he decided to do his duty and dance several dances with the older ladies. Lady Gwen’s aunt, Miss Bury, was particularly amusing, and she kept referring fondly to Mr. Fitzwilliam, who was dozing in a chair, as if the elderly gentleman were watching them.
And then Christopher surprised Lady Gwen by sweeping her into a waltz. She was energetic and athletic, and he enjoyed how well she kept up with him. It was a shame she didn’t want to marry a duke, he thought. But then maybe that was a good thing, because he was realistic enough to admit to himself that he shouldn’t marry a woman whose best friend was Abigail Shaw.
“So you have driven Miss Shaw away, Your Grace,” Lady Gwen said.
Christopher frowned at her. “Your pardon?”
“Well, I had assumed she retired for a moment of privacy, but it has been quite a bit longer.”
For a moment, he saw a strange emotion of realization come into her eyes. Then it was gone.
“Lady Gwen?”
“Well, I suddenly remembered that she wasn’t feeling well. You know, we women are susceptible to such things.”
And then she took her leave as if she couldn’t wait to escape him.
Had she actually just hinted at female problems? Something was certainly going on if Lady Gwen felt the need to cover for Abigail. He felt unease begin to change into urgency. What was she doing?
