Page 87 of Doxy for the Ton
“At least not withme?”
She lowered her gaze.
“Is there another with whom you’d prefer to dance?”
“It matters not,” she said. “I’m obliged to refuse anyone who offers now you have asked me—or rather, now that Lady Rex has committed us.”
“Lady Rex would not have made such a suggestion if she knew it would distress you,” he replied. “I would be delighted to honor the promise made.”
“Honor? Something about which you know nothing.”
“Then let me at least give theappearanceof honor by dancing with you.” She frowned, and Alexander leaned closer. “If your preferred partner is here tonight, Lady Portia, the sight of your dancing with another might compel him to ask you next time. There’s nothing so desirable to a man as a woman who is favored by others.”
He took her hand and led her into the center of the ballroom.
“We would both rather be partnered by another,” he said, “but that doesn’t mean we cannot enjoy each other’s company. For this dance, at least.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Brutal honesty fashioned into a compliment? I find myself tempted to ask who you are, and what have you done with the Duke of Sawbridge?”
“Perhaps I’m attempting to atone for past sins.”
“There’s more to it than that,” she said. “Perhaps there’s hope for you after all, though you still have much to learn.”
He smiled. “I fear I’d make a troublesome pupil.”
“I’m sure Lady Rex is an adept teacher,” she said. “I’ve not known her long, yet I see in her an intelligent, honorable, and kind woman. I wonder why she chooses to associate herself with you.”
For two thousand guineas,the treacherous little voice whispered in his mind as they were separated by the dance.
Was that all Mimi valued? His cash?
The company here tonight would vilify her if they knew of their arrangement. But, in reality, the nature of their relationship said more about his character than hers.
“I see the conundrum poses as much of a challenge to you as it does to myself,” Lady Portia said as they were reunited once more, and, hand in hand, they moved between their companions, forming a figure eight.
“How so?” he asked.
“Lady Rex doesn’t seem the type to set her cap at a duke. She lacks the grasping avarice of other women. Women such as…”
She glanced across the ballroom and smiled. In the corner stood Miss Francis and her mother. The expression on the daughter’s face—which almost matched that of the matriarch’s—was enough to turn even the freshest milk sour.
“It seems as if dancing with you, while it might elicit my brother’s anger, has made me the object of envy of at least one woman in the room,” she said. “I ought to be grateful for that, if nothing else.”
“There’s no pleasure in being envied,” he said. “Envy is merely a desire for the possessions of another. I would rather be envied for who I am, not what I own.”
“Do youownLady Rex?”
“No,” he said. “I fear I never shall.”
She frowned. “Was it envy that compelled you to fight that poor young man?”
“Whom?”
“Your Grace, do not take me for a simpleton. Mr. Drayton is barely more than a boy. My friend acted out of kindness when she danced with him—to spare him the barbs that Sir Heath Moss and his set were taunting him with.”
“Mr. Drayton, no matter his age, should not have—”
“Mr. Drayton had taken too much champagne,” she said. “An excess of liquor and an infatuation with an intelligent woman of character are a deadly combination in a naïve young man. I’ve no doubt that were Lady Rex in danger, she’d have dealt with it on her own terms, rather than relying on the primitive act you displayed. A desire to protect my friend was not what drove you to act in such a manner—but the desire toownher. Lady Rex is not Mr. Drayton’s possession. Neither is she yours.”
