Page 97 of His Forsaken Duchess
His smile widened, though his gaze remained skeptical. “I fear you are overestimating my abilities, Audrey. It has been a number of years.”
Audrey arched an eyebrow, determined not to let him wriggle free of her invitation. “Oh, come now, Cedric. Are you telling me the Duke of Haremore cannot manage a simple quadrille?”
“I am merely warning you,” he replied, though his lips twitched in amusement, “that you may find me woefully out of practice.”
She placed a gloved hand on his forearm, her fingers tightening just slightly. “Then let us remedy that. You wouldn’t wish to embarrass yourself at some future event, would you?”
His dark gaze met hers, something in them softening, and her breath caught for a moment. Then, with a low chuckle, Cedric offered her his hand. “Far be it from me to turn down such a determined invitation.”
Audrey slid her hand into his, pleased by how steady hers felt despite the flutter in her chest. Without another word, Cedric guided her toward the dance floor, where couples were already taking their places.
“You may regret this,” he murmured as he stepped into position, his gloved hand settling lightly on her waist.
“Not likely,” she countered with a smirk. “I happen to have very little sympathy for self-doubt, particularly when it’s unwarranted.”
The music began, and they moved. Cedric’s steps were careful at first, his attention clearly focused on not misstepping. Audrey watched him with barely contained amusement—he was far more capable than he gave himself credit for. While he lacked the natural ease of some gentlemen, there was a strength and surety in the way he led her that surprised her.
“Not so terrible, are you?” she teased as they turned, his hand steadying her effortlessly.
“Shocking, I know,” he replied dryly, though there was warmth in his voice.
“You must have had plenty of practice in your younger days,” she said, her tone light. “Surely you danced with many debutantes?”
Cedric raised an eyebrow. “And you think I would have made an effort?”
“Certainly not,” she retorted. “But there must have been young ladies desperate to drag you to the dance floor.”
He looked down at her with mock solemnity. “I assure you, Audrey, I was very good at avoiding such traps.”
“Then how, pray tell, do you dance so well now?” she asked, grinning.
He paused briefly, as though considering her question. “Perhaps,” he said finally, his gaze holding hers, “I simply needed the right partner.”
Audrey’s breath caught at the sincerity in his voice. For a moment, they seemed to move in perfect harmony, the music fading into the background as his words hung between them. Then, she shook her head, forcing a laugh to mask her inexplicable reaction.
“Well, it certainly isn’t because of experience. I, on the other hand, danced often during the Seasons.”
Cedric furrowed his brow slightly. “Did you?”
“Of course,” Audrey replied, unable to suppress her smile. “Unlike you, I found the Seasons rather enjoyable. There were plenty of dance partners.”
Something flashed in his eyes—quick and sharp, though his voice remained casual. “Plenty of dance partners…”
Audrey tilted her head, delighting in the faint possessiveness she detected. “Are you jealous, Cedric?”
He scoffed softly, though his hand tightened ever so slightly on her waist. “Jealous? Hardly.”
“I think you are,” she said lightly, lifting her chin. “Were you imagining all those poor gentlemen dancing with me?”
He glanced down at her, his gaze darkening in a way that sent heat to her cheeks. “Imagining it, no. Disapproving of it? Absolutely.”
Audrey couldn’t help it—she laughed. “Youarejealous!”
“I am merely…” Cedric hesitated, as though searching for the right word. “Protective.”
“Of your dancing abilities?”
“Of you,” he corrected, his voice low.
