Page 45 of Fit for a Duke
Comfortable was the last thing that Clio felt at that moment. Being envied by all the young ladies in the room was an alien experience, but not an unpleasant one. She felt reckless, willing to pretend for the duration of the dance that the duke had chosen to stand up with her for reasons that had nothing to do with their having joined forces to rout a would-be killer. She had recognised desire in his expression moments earlier, but now wondered if she had got it wrong and like any red-blooded male he had been temporarily overcome by a suffocating bout of lust.
That happened a lot, according to Beth, who claimed to know something on the subject but was hazy as to how she came by that information when Clio and Adele questioned her. Ezra admired her determination to put aside her embroidery in an effort to help him but Clio had yet to decide if he took her seriously insofar as his search for a murderer went. Part of her suspected that he regretted confiding in her and was pretending to include her just so that he knew what she was up to and could watch over her.
It was all so confusing.
Common sense was restored to Clio when she reminded herself that Ezra needed her, whether he realised it or not. Men handled sensitive issues in an all-guns-blazing way. Ladies could be more subtle and ask questions or observe out of character behaviour at gatherings without being suspected of ulterior motives. If someone here had been sent with murderous intent then it stood to reason that they would be nervous and act irrationally. As a student of human nature, Clio would study the main suspects and take note of their behaviour.
She did not know any of the guests well enough to be able to decide whether they were acting irrationally, she conceded, but hopefully something would give them away. It wasn’t as if Ezra could keep watch over his cousin without raising suspicions, or Salford either. Clio shuddered at the thought of being anywhere near the man she despised, and yet for Ezra she would make the sacrifice.
She felt hot and cold all over when she recalled the brazen manner in which she had slipped her hand into his as they walked back to the house. It had been an impulsive gesture of sympathy that he’d probably misconstrued. Anyway, it was all his fault that she had acted in such a forward manner! He was the one who had commenced intimacies. She had been convinced that he intended to kiss her when he’d pulled her into his arms in the orchard and her disappointment when he failed to do so had been absolute, which made the hand-holding episode that much harder to comprehend. She didn’t want to seem desperate, or to make him think that she was…well, offering herself to him. God forbid that he thought she would be free with her favours.
The dance came to an end long before Clio was ready to be released from his arms. She dipped a graceful curtsey, hoping that her legs would still support her without the strength of his arms holding her up and asked him to excuse her. She had monopolised his company and would not continue to cling.
‘You are leaving me unprotected?’ he asked, feigning terror.
Clio smiled. ‘You are perfectly capable of fending off a few harmless females.’
‘You overestimate my courage.’
‘Foolish man!’
She was still smiling as she walked away and didn’t need to glance over her shoulder to know that he would be surrounded by hopeful aspirants for the next dance. Clio was careful to avoid the part of the room where Salford lay in wait for her and instead settled in a corner, partially concealed by a convenient pillar that gave her a good view of the room but behind which she could hide if necessary.
A quadrille had formed up. Clio chuckled when she noticed that Ezra hadn’t been persuaded to participate.
‘Miss Benton, may I have the pleasure?’
Clio started violently at the high-pitched voice accosting her. She had been so taken up with watching Ezra that she hadn’t realised anyone had approached her. She abruptly turned and was confronted by Ezra’s cousin, Silas Conway. She couldn’t decline, and anyway he was a prime suspect in the murder plot. It would be useful to get a better idea of his character—a character that was a long way removed from the foppish individual he made himself out to be, she was willing to wager. And so she offered him both her hand and a smile.
‘Are you sure it’s wise for you to take to the floor, sir?’ she asked solicitously. ‘Dancing is a tiring business and I have heard it said that your health is not good.’
‘It is true that I have a weak constitution and must take the greatest possible care,’ he replied, ‘but I am capable of performing a simple quadrille without sapping all my strength. We all of us have a duty to fulfil our social obligations.’
‘I am relieved to hear it,’ she replied, wondering why the man had sought her out, although she could harbour a guess. She was the first woman here in whom the duke had shown interest, somewhat dramatically by waltzing with her. Mr Conway probably thought she was unsuitable and was no doubt planning to give a full account of her to the dowager duchess.
If dancing with Ezra had been a joy, she was paying the price now. Mr Conway was heavy on his feet, clumsy and made several wrong turns without appearing to realise it. He had already stepped on her toes twice.
‘My cousin appears to enjoy your society,’ he remarked when the dance briefly brought them together.
‘You seem surprised,’ Clio replied in an arch tone.
‘Not surprised, merely interested. The duke is in great demand.’
‘That is hardly to be wondered at. He is, after all a duke, as well as being handsome and eligible. Any ambitious lady in search of a husband will turn in his direction.’
She swirled away from her miserable partner and smiled at the gentleman whom she now faced.
‘Are you one such?’ Mr Conway asked when they came together again.
‘That is none of your affair.’ She paused. ‘Is the duke aware that you take it upon yourself to vet any lady he smiles at?’
‘His lady mother trusts my judgement.’
‘Which is no answer at all,’ Clio replied, not bothering to point out his error when he again moved in the wrong direction, narrowly avoiding a collision with the lady behind him.
She sensed a steely resolve, a cunning about the man that defied his supposedly weak character and allowed herself to wonder if he really could be the assassin. Outwardly, he was the one with the most to gain.
‘What will happen to you when the duke marries?’ she asked capriciously. ‘His duchess will manage his household. Presumably the dowager will make way for her, which will leave you redundant.’
