Page 71 of The Duke of Daring (The Untouchables)
She didn’t want to think about this, about him, anymore. It was too painful.
Lucy summoned a hearty smile and looked at Aquilla. “It doesn’t matter what he might have felt or what I feel, our association is over, and I’m making plans for the future that don’t include him.”
Aquilla’s frown deepened. “I’m still disappointed. I suppose we must make the best of the time we have left together, then. You’re still coming to Lady Morecott’s ball tonight, aren’t you?”
“Yes, Grandmama has been looking forward to it.” Lucy even had a new gown—at Grandmama’s insistence that she needed it to snare Edgecombe. However, since Andrew’s visit yesterday, Grandmama had begun talking of him instead of Edgecombe, much to Lucy’s chagrin.
“Excellent, we’ll play name that Untouchable.” Aquilla grinned as she uncrossed her arms and straightened.
“Haven’t we named them all?” Ivy asked.
“Probably, but perhaps we should change some of their names. I think I’d like to rename Dartford the Duke of Disdain.”
Ivy laughed. “Perfect. I don’t like him at all anymore. Sorry, Lucy.”
Lucy wished she didn’t like him anymore either. Instead, she loved him. And it hurt.
Chapter Fifteen
Andrew strolled into the ballroom at Morecott House. Even though it was one of the largest, most opulent homes in Grosvenor Square, the event was still a crush. He doubted his ability to find Lucy in the crowd.
He’d regretted his decision not to seek her out at the Goodwin ball last night. He wanted to share with her his suspicions about Greene. Or maybe he just wanted to see her.
He should just have called on her that afternoon, but he imagined she wouldn’t receive him. Perhaps he should’ve sent a note. Except he wondered if she would’ve tossed it in the fire without opening it.
Since she hadn’t acknowledged the money he’d given her, he assumed she didn’t wish to have any communication with him. And their parting yesterday had been stiff and…strange. Her words had been clipped, and though she’d said she wasn’t angry, he was fairly certain she had been.
But there was nothing he could do about any of that. What hecoulddo, however, was warn her about Greene.
He scanned the ballroom, but it was a confusing jumble of people. He supposed touring the wall might be his best chance of finding her.
That annoyed him. She shouldn’t be a wallflower. She should be the most sought-after woman here. Men were idiots, he decided. They’d marry an insipid beauty with rocks in her head over a smart, stunning woman who would engage him every single day with her vitality and wit.
A nagging voice in his mind said that if he felt that way,heshould marry her, but Andrew ignored it. Marriage and family weren’t for him.
Andrew moved closer to the wall and began a circuit of the ballroom. After a few minutes of plodding movement, his gaze caught a familiar face—Lucy’s friend whom he’d met.
Mustering his most charming smile, he stopped in front of her. She stood with another young woman who was taller, with reddish-blonde hair and a rather severe look. “Good evening, Miss Knox. I’m looking for your friend, Miss Parnell.”
Miss Knox had a bright smile and lively eyes. “Ah yes, Dartford. Allow me to introduce Miss Ivy Breckenridge.”
The tall blonde glared at him. He nearly recoiled at the disgust in her gaze. “I’m certain Miss Parnell has no interest in speaking with you.”
Miss Knox clearly elbowed her friend in the side and whispered something Andrew couldn’t hear but was fairly certain was “Be quiet!”
The two women could not be more different in their reception of him. Miss Knox had seemed quite welcoming, even pleased to see him. Miss Breckenridge, on the other hand, looked as if she might cheerfully lead him to his execution. His neck prickled. He directed his attention to the friendlier Miss Knox. “Is Miss Parnell here this evening? It’s rather important that I speak with her.”
“She is, in fact.”
Now Miss Breckenridge elbowed Miss Knox. Andrew stifled a smile. They seemed like the perfect friends for Lucy—not the typical diffident young women who populated these sorts of events.
“Might I inquire where she is?” he asked.
Miss Breckenridge scowled. “No.”
Miss Knox threw her a chiding glance. “She’s dancing. And it’s a rather long set, I think.”
Damn. Andrew turned his head to look at the dance floor but couldn’t see her. He looked back at the two women and smiled. “Thank you for your time.”
