Page 5 of In Need of a Duke
Look up, Lottie. Look up.
“I wouldn’t go so far as to claim so,” he gloomed.
At that, Charlotte shot her glance upward, instantly regretting it. It was worse than she had originally feared. A wickedly handsome man, nearly dripping in refinement and sin, studied her. Dark eyes, obsidian almost, and the most beautiful face…
“I apologize, Your Grace. I am most?—”
“Your name,” he insisted, leaning closer.
Lily giggled behind her.
When Charlotte discovered the use of her words once more, she would make sure that her friends never so thoroughly embarrassed her again.
“Oh, Your Grace,” Charlotte’s mother interrupted, her straw-colored hair adorned with a plume of feathers to give her petite frame more height, and her pert mouth always drawn tight. She tapped her fan against Charlotte’s arm. “I am so pleased to see you this evening. It has been an age since I’ve seen your mother. How is she?”
Charlotte remained silent as she noted the small tick along the duke’s jaw. She was certain she had never seen someone so wholly beautiful in her life, nearly flawless.
“Lady Drake, I do not know. It has been some time since we last spoke.”
Layered between the bitterness and contempt in his answer lingered the slightest hint of desolation.
Curious, that.
“I am certain it was difficult after your father’s passing.”
“Is this your daughter?” he asked, abruptly changing the subject.
Her mother nodded, grinning. “Yes, Your Grace. This is my daughter, Lady Charlotte. Charlotte, allow me to introduce you to the Duke of Dandridge.”
“Your Grace,” Charlotte said, nodding slightly.
The entire time, she felt his dark eyes on her. Somehow, they felt like a caress. It left her a little breathless. Or maybe it was only the lemonade.
She took another nervous sip, peeking at him from over her glass.
“I came to ask for the next dance,” he said.
Kate reached over and plucked the cup out of Charlotte’s hand. “She would love to dance, Your Grace.”
Charlotte whirled around, panic consuming her, wishing to have her lemonade back. What was she to do? Dance with this man? No, no. Absolutely not.
“Go on,” Lily whispered, nudging her forward. “We’ll be here waiting when the dance is over.”
She glanced behind her mother and friends, their eyes wide with eager anticipation even as her stomach sank.
He offered her his elbow, his eyes all but demanding she accept. And it wasn’t that she didn’t wish to, but dancing in a crowded ballroom sounded anything but pleasant.
“I do not bite,” he said, his voice low enough for only her to hear.
With a steadying breath, she slipped her kid glove over the fine black wool of his jacket. “It is my experience, Your Grace, that whenever someone must share such a disclaimer, there is reason to believe it.”
Charlotte had been paraded around London plenty by her parents, so it was strange she had never met the duke before this night. And as little as she knew of him, she found herself equally interested in discovering more.
Maybe it was the sly grin that hid in the curve of his lips or his dark, heated stare. Either way, she couldn’t quite get over how handsome he was, which only led her to question why, in a room full of beautiful and outgoing debutantes, he desired to dance with her. Especially when she had been content to fade away against the wall like the shy wallflower that she was.
“I must apologize in advance. I am not?—”
He shook his head. “No, no disclaimers, Lady Charlotte.”
