Page 6 of Unraveled By the Duke
Her cheeks flushed, and her breath came in sharp gasps. To think of such a man in that way…
She felt like she was betraying herself. Her own feelings were treacherous.
The Duke looked at Lavinia and raised an eyebrow. “Do I detect tension?” he asked, glancing at Greenwood and looking away dismissively.
“No, dear. Merely a case of mistaken identity,” Lavinia said.
Celia watched as the Duke’s eyes narrowed at the endearment, a tension around his mouth. His already stony face became even stonier.
Lavinia was looking at her, and that drew the Duke’s eyes to her as well. They seemed to bore into her.
Celia felt his stare like a physical touch. She felt naked before him—a thought that made her knees tremble. She clasped her hands together in front of her, lest he see the effect of his gaze on her.
“And whom has been mistaken for whom?” the Duke asked without looking away.
His tone sounded bored. His voice was deep and mellifluous. The kind of voice that was made for the stage. Or the battlefield.
Celia opened her mouth to reply as he raised his wine glass to his lips. At that moment, Lavinia moved, turning quickly and flinging out her arm as though to point. Her elbow jostled the Duke’s arm, and the glass tipped. Crimson liquid flew from the glass and splashed Celia’s face, chest, and down the front of her dress.
She screamed in shock, earning stares from those around her.
Lavinia’s mouth dropped open in surprise, but a smile tugged at the corners. “Oh, Celia, I am so sorry! I am so very clumsy at times. Your poor dress… it will be ruined!”
“And my coat!” the Duke snapped. “Whatever were you thinking, woman!”
Lavinia flushed and looked down.
Aurelia snatched a napkin from a passing servant to dab at the wine on Celia’s front.
“That will do no good at all. You must change and have the servants launder your dress. We must do this at once, or the stain will not come out,” Lavinia said in a voice that was surprisingly meek and humble.
“I do not have a change of clothes,” Celia huffed.
“No, but the Duke of Larcher has a sister who is about your size. I’m sure she would lend you one of her dresses. She is a very kind-hearted young woman,” Lavinia suggested.
“Very well. Take your friend to Lady Bethany’s rooms and help her change. You have drawn attention to us. I will try and find Larcher—I could not find him earlier—and see if he has a coat he can lend me. I do not like being the center of attention,” the Duke gritted out.
“Of course, Your Grace. Lord Darnleigh, it was a pleasure to meet you. Please excuse us. Celia, come with me. I know the way.”
Celia hesitated. The man who claimed he was not Captain Greenwood was watching her intently, and she did not like the look in his eyes. The Duke of Cheverton had stormed away, unbuttoning his coat as he went.
She was drenched in wine, which was settling into the fabric of her dress as she stood there. Lords and Ladies around them stared and smiled. Whispers rose in the air.
If I ask Papa to let me leave, he will be furious. This was supposed to be my reintroduction to the ton. It is important for Aurelia that the scandal is buried and forgotten. But now, I am the subject of whispers and gossip once more. I must get out of everyone’s sight.
She could understand the Duke’s avowed hatred of being the center of attention—it did not feel comfortable.
I do not know the way to Lady Bethany’s chambers, and I cannot stay here. I must trust Lavinia.
Lavinia had taken a step and now looked back, holding out an insistent hand. As soon as Celia took it, Aurelia made to follow.
Lavinia waved her off. “Go and let young men fill your dance card, Aurelia. Do not become involved.”
Celia nodded. “Yes, Aurelia. Enjoy yourself, and I will join you when I have changed my dress,” she said encouragingly.
Then, she let Lavinia lead her out of the room.
“I really am sorry, Celia. I know you probably don’t believe a word after everything, but I would never deliberately ruin a perfectly good dress.”
