Page 30 of Drawn to the Duke
Selina had never felt so excited—and daunted—in her life.
Sheathed in her favorite shade of Pomona Green, heron feathers mitigating the slight disarray of her hair, she reminded herself that she was every bit as worthy and beautiful.
It’s what Chauncy had called her, his eyes glowing with warmth as they’d lingered upon her when he’d passed her in the ballroom.
Now, as she and Edward paid their addresses to the host and hostess, Selina could see how much competition she really had, for the seemingly hundreds of women seemed so much better dressed and far more beautiful than Selina.
But she’d been gratified by Chauncy’s words which had made her self-conscious in a way she couldn’t remember since first noticing Samuel’s sly admiration when she’d been an impressionable sixteen-year-old.
The moment they’d done their duty, Edward took her to task. “Where were you, Selina, when you were supposed to meet me to do your sketch of Lady Rushworth? Your organizational skills are deplorable. Why is it always me who has to?—”
The look Selina turned upon him had him closing his mouth. Lord Chauncy’s admiration had made her confidence rebound.
But that aside, she was more than happy to be able to reinforce to her unappreciative brother just how much he depended upon her skills.
“I observed Lady Rushworth for just as long as it took me to rustle up this, Edward, dearest.” In the shadows, she discreetly removed a rolled-up paper from her décolletage and handed it to him. “Yes, it is rushed, but it is a remarkable likeness, don’t you think?” She was smiling now, for his shock was balm to her former irritation. “You just show this to Lord Chauncy before you give it to Lady Rushworth if just to reassure him that his confidence in inviting you here on behalf of our host was not misplaced. Now, shall we proceed?”
Just in the short walk across the room, Edward would be in no doubt as the the interest she garnered.
It was Selina who had the talent, together with a beauty and confidence that was certainly appreciated by the gentlemen here this evening. She could feel it and the knowledge strengthened her.
When Edward said nothing having glanced at her drawing, she asked, piqued, “Is it not good? If you cannot at least commend me, then perhaps I shall claim ownership.”
She made a move to take back the drawing, but he blocked her, saying, “Of course it’s good but you also have your reputation as my wife to maintain. What kept you so long, Selina?”
“Apologies, Edward, but Lord Chauncy detained me,” she said sweetly. “He was so taken with the drawing I did of him and … one thing led to another.”
That seemed to put her brother in his place.
Or so she thought; until, after a moment of considered silence, he said, “Be wary of making a fool of yourself, Selina. Lord Chauncy, I fear, is toying with you.”
She was indignant. What did he know of the extent of Chauncy’s interest? But then he added, “You think Chauncy fancies you, but a man like that will take his pleasure wherever it is offered. I think you know what I mean? Do not repeat the mistake you made with Samuel. You could have been here, Selina, as a woman of standing, in your own right, and not as my substitute wife in subterfuge.”
Selina was silent, for what he said was too close to the truth.
A few minutes later, her excuse to repair to the ladies’ mending room offered little in the way of comfort when she found herself locking eyes with Mrs. Piggott.
The flare of disdain her erstwhile fellow houseguest directed at her was replaced by what could only be termed the cut direct.
Mrs. Piggott was a nobody, Selina comforted herself. The sister of Lady Saunders, she was a commoner who looked like a costermonger dressed in silk and feathers. She had none of the address of her elegant sibling who, Selina now noticed, was standing near a doorway that opened into a rear saloon.
Lady Saunders was speaking to Lord Chauncy, and the intimacy of their brief exchange nearly took Selina’s breath away.
He turned, and catching her eyes upon him, raised an eyebrow before crossing the room. Taking her by the elbow in a public display of ownership that was certain to make tongues wag, he drew Selina to an alcove hung with a fringed curtain where they were hidden from the rest of the guests.
Excitement skittered across her skin as, in the shadows, Chauncy encircled her waist with his hands.
“You are like a flower,” he murmured as his lips touched her ear, making her wilt.
He tightened his embrace while he covered her lips with his. “Come to me tonight?” His hands roamed over her back, cupping her bottom, and Selina moaned softly as she moved against him.
She traced the planes of his cheeks with her thumbs, her eyes closed as she relived the frenzied moments when, with a pencil, she’d worked to shade and shadow the bones of his cheeks, contrasting the hollows and shadows.
She could have sketched his likeness blindfolded.
Which meant the intimacy of the real man was intoxicating.
Of course, she’d come to him tonight. Not the greatest calamity would keep her away; not even if Edward barged into Lord Chauncy’s bedchamber in a fury.
