Page 74 of Temptations of a Duke's Daughter (The Duchess's Investigative Society 2)

Chapter Twenty-One

Dear God.

Chastity half expected her heart to beat so hard out of her chest that it might flop onto the ballroom floor and bounce about, no doubt making Lady Farthing faint—as she was want to do whenever the conversation turned away from her.

Her dance partner might also suffer from such a display but from Mr. Smethurst’s yelp, her tripping over his foot was quite enough suffering for one night. She muttered an apology but failed to drag her attention from Valentine.

The heart that had beat so painfully against her chest decided to come to a standstill when he met her gaze. It didn’t matter that his brows were furrowed, or his lips were pulled into a tight, disapproving line. Nor that he remained far away from the crowds edging the ballroom like the most unsociable, taciturn ball attendee in history. He made her breath freeze solid in her lungs.

“He shaved.”

“Pardon?”

She smiled vaguely at Mr. Smethurst, a ruddy-faced man of her age who she suspected had been vaguely trying to seduce her with talk of his newly purchased townhouse. “I could do with some, uh, shade.”

He glanced upward. “We are indoors.”

“From the chandeliers.” She lifted a hand, shielding her face from the brightly glinting crystal pendants above.

No less than six hung from the grand ceiling of Clements Lodge, ensuring no matter how dark the evenings drew, everything could be seen in its splendor—from the mirrors to the molding on the ceiling to the priceless vases on stands and even the polished fruit and shimmering jelly.

“I think I had better take a little rest,” she said, moving away from Mr. Smethurst and his protests that the dance was yet to finish. “A headache,” she mouthed, tapping the side of her head.

Despite his forlorn look, she didn’t feel guilty. No doubt Mr. Smethurst would find another willing partner with ease, given the grand size of his new townhouse.

Chastity went to her aunt’s side first. Though she did not need to look his way to know Valentine’s gaze remained upon her, she could not resist. Her aunt fluttered a peacock blue fan in front of her face that matched the real peacock feathers sticking out her aunt’s coiffure. The regal blue and green of her gown finished off the picture to perfection. She hoped one day to have as bold a taste as her aunt.

“He’s here,” she said to her aunt.

“So I saw,” Aunt Sarah replied from behind her fan. “I rather miss the beard, but he does strike quite the figure.”

So did she, in an odd way. The clean-shaven look stole her breath, there was no doubt about it, but forgetting the feel of his rough stubble beneath her fingers was not easy.

“Have you seen Mr. Reynolds?”

Her aunt shook her head. “I have been watching most carefully for him. Perhaps he is not coming.”

“Cassie said Lady Belton received his acceptance.” Chastity blew out a breath. “Perhaps he has changed his mind. Perhaps he caught wind of the investigation.”

“How could he have done? Only your sisters and I know of it. And the earl.” She gestured toward him with her fan. “He hardly seems the sort to gossip.”

“Most certainly not.”

Chastity imagined if she wanted to draw gossip from Valentine even some vile form of medieval torture would not persuade him to part with it. Sullen and surly he might appear to be, but it was an admirable trait. Too many men of the ton were prone to loose tongues and could be worse than the women—though no one would ever own to it.

She made a face. Far better they pretend the weaker sex were the ones behind vile rumors like those about Eleanor. She could not claim to be perfect but if this situation with Eleanor had taught her anything, it was how easy the tiniest rumor could be stretched to beyond believability yet still be deemed as fact.

“I shall go and speak with him,” she announced.

Much longer staring at him from across the room and someone would take note. Besides, she needed to ensure he understood what he must do should Mr. Reynolds arrive.

And perhaps she wanted to see his shaved jawline up close. It had been so long since she’d seen him like that and at the time, she hadn’t really paid attention given he was scolding her for him treading on her blasted toes.

“Oh, I see Mr. Wilde. I must ask about his kitty.” Aunt Sarah bustled across the floor before Chastity could say anything. “He’s been quite ill,” her aunt called over her shoulder to her.

Chastity suspected her aunt meant the kitty as Mr. Wilde looked quite well and smiled eagerly when her aunt approached. She shook her head. There were few who could match her aunt’s adoration of cats, but it seemed Mr. Wilde was as keen.

Pushing her way around the edge of the dance floor whilst a quadrille was being danced by Cassie, her husband and several of their friends, she forced herself to take even breaths as she neared Valentine.

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