Page 4 of Playing the Scoundrel

Chapter Two

“You’re certain no one saw?”

Henry Godwin smiled at Miss Clay, trying to be encouraging and not just amused by her distress. “I promise. Any misstep was covered by the skirts and steps of the other dancers.”

She sighed as he escorted her off the dance floor. “I just don’t want it to be another black mark keeping me from a decent match. The duke and duchess have been so kind to bring me to London, and I don’t want them to regret their choice.”

Henry knew what that worry felt like.

“I understand your concern, but I promise that is the last thing on their minds.” He patted her hand that was linked through his arm. “You are the happiest thing to happen to Wynnwood Park in years, and the duke and duchess will desire you to stay for however long you’d like. Don’t hurry yourself into a marriage you’ll regret on their account.”

Finally, Miss Clay’s frown eased into a small smile.

“And as for the judgmental harpies around the room, just waiting for someone to slip up, they wouldn’t dare bring slander to the Duke of Norland’s name. Not when he could turn back into the Undesirable Duke at any given moment.”

Miss Clay chuckled. “I don’t suppose you’ll tell me that story, will you? Why the duke was an outcast for so many years?”

Henry pressed his lips together. He did know every gaudy detail about Miss Clay’s parentage and how she came to be the duke’s ward, but James had sworn him to secrecy on pain of death. “Unfortunately, it’s not my story to tell. Though I’m sure you’ll hear it all in time.”

She nodded in understanding. “Thank you, Mr. Godwin. For the dance, and for distracting me. It has been a lovely evening, and I would hate for the ball to be ruined by my one floundering misstep.”

“What’s this about floundering?” The Duchess of Norland, whom Henry had come to know affectionately as Isabel, held out her hands to Miss Clay. “You looked marvelous, my dear.”

“She was worried about a missed step in the dance, but I was just assuring her no one noticed.” Henry gave her an encouraging smile.

“Even so, I think I’ve exhausted myself, and am quite ready to retire.”

Isabel frowned. “Are you certain? There’s no other young man you’d like to dance with tonight?”

“Let her be, my dear,” said James, the Duke of Norland. “You’ve paraded her around long enough. She’ll be certain to have plenty of callers this week alone.”

Suddenly, a body bumped into Henry from behind. The crowds had grown thick as people left the dance floor, pushing a lady against him and making him turn.

“Oh, I beg your pardon.” It was the voice of the alluring widow, Mrs. Palmer. Henry would recognize her smooth tone anywhere.

“Are you all right?” Henry asked, offering his hand to help steady her.

She took it and nodded. “Yes, thank you. Do forgive me, Your Grace, I did not intend to interrupt. But it’s quite a crush, isn’t it?”

“Indeed, it is, Mrs. Palmer.” Isabel nodded good-naturedly. “Think nothing of it.”

The voluptuous woman gave a graceful bow before lifting her eyes to Henry. With lowered lashes, it was easy enough to read the invitation, but she squeezed his hand a moment before releasing it, bringing attention to the paper note she’d secretly delivered, no doubt with a more direct invitation.

Once she’d disappeared, Henry made certain his back was still turned to his party as he flipped open to note to read:Meet me on the balcony.

Henry shoved the note in his pocket, all previous concerns and emotions forgotten. The night had just become infinitely more interesting.

“Yes, I believe it has become much too crowded,” Isabel said, linking her arm with Miss Clay’s. “Come along, dear. We can collect our things.”

“I’ll have them bring around the carriage,” James said as they walked away.

Henry sighed, wondering how long he needed to wait before disappearing himself.

“Be a little more discreet, will you?”

The growl in James’s voice was enough of a warning that made Henry look up. “What?”

“I do not want Miss Clay subjected to youractivities. Not even a whisper of them.”

---