Page 73 of The Duke of Daring (The Untouchables)
“Oh yes, of course. But I meant you. You danced so much! I daresay this might finally be your year. Yes, I’ll be shocked if Edgecombe doesn’t come up to scratch.”
Lucy had danced with him again, and while he was charming and pleasant, he wasn’t Andrew. Unfortunately, she compared everyone to him.
“Who was the young gentleman you danced with—the tall one?”
Greene. Lucy had grown suspicious when he’d asked her to dance again. He still hadn’t seemed to recognize her, but she’d gone out of her way to act incredibly feminine to be sure. She’d actuallysimpered. Or at least she’d tried. As with tittering, she didn’t count simpering as one of her skills. “Mr. Greene,” she belatedly answered.
“He’s very attractive. You may inspire a battle.” Grandmama’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction in the lamplight.
Lucy didn’t want a battle. She didn’t want Edgecombe or Greene or anyone who wasn’t Andrew. And she couldn’t have him.
The coach stopped in front of the town house, and the footman helped Grandmama down. Lucy stepped out and took her grandmother’s arm as they walked up to the door. The butler let them in, and Lucy escorted Grandmama to her chamber where her maid was waiting to take over.
“She’ll be asleep in a trice,” Lucy whispered. The maid nodded.
Lucy yawned, thinking that she’d fall asleep quickly too. Good, she didn’t want to lie awake thinking of Andrew.
She went to her chamber, closing the door behind her and immediately pulling the band from her hair. As she crossed the carpet to pass her bed on the way to her dressing area, she stopped short.
There, reclining on the bed, his cravat loosened and his coat nowhere to be seen—wait, it was on the back of a chair—was Andrew. His gaze connected with hers, and a fervent longing stabbed through her chest and spread heat lower.
She clutched the band with her fingertips and stared at him in shock. “What are you doing here?”
He uncrossed his legs and jumped up. “I came to see you.”
She tried to ignore her attraction to him. It was incredibly difficult because he was almost unbearably handsome. His cravat was loose, exposing more of his neck than was appropriate. But then she supposed they’d moved quite past propriety, especially since he was standing in her bedroom. “How did you get in here?”
He gave a light shrug. “I’m sneaky. I saw your maid, but I convinced her I was here with your permission.”
“You aren’t.”
“No.” He came toward her slowly. “I saw you dancing with Greene.”
“You were at the ball?” Her voice sounded a bit high to her ears.
“Yes. I went to find you.”
He’d gone to the ball, and now he was here. Awareness danced along her flesh and flutters of desire careened in her belly. She turned from him and dropped her headband on her dressing table. “What’s wrong?”
He’d moved close behind her—she could feel his proximity like a fire heating her back. “I believe Greene knows you’re Smitty. I wanted you to be aware.”
She turned. He was very close. She pressed her thighs back against the dressing table. “He told you?”
“No, but he’s been acting odd.” He scowled. “I nearly ruined everything at Darent Hall when I called you ‘her’.”
She arched a brow at him. “You ruined everything when you told them I was a physician.”
His scowl deepened. “I apologized for that.”
“Did you?” She honestly couldn’t remember. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. What’s done is done. I appreciate you sharing your suspicion. I shall take it under advisement.”
His brows formed a V over his eyes. “What does that mean?”
She shrugged, perversely enjoying his agitation. “It means that I’ll assess the situation for myself when I next see Greene.” She ought to tell him she agreed with his assessment, that she’d wondered if Greene had seen through her disguise, but didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.
He blinked. “You have plans to see him?”
Was he jealous? “Not specifically, no. Is there another reason you came to my bedchamber? You could just as easily have sent me a note about Greene.”
