Page 12 of Devoted to the Duke (The St. Clairs 1)

Chapter Five

“Iam sosorry, my lord,” Catherine murmured to her partner, her tone apologetic.

It was the third time she stepped on someone’s toes as she’d danced this evening. Normally, she was light on her feet and considered quite an accomplished dancer. Tonight, though, thoughts of the Marquess of Sather filled her head to distraction.

She’d caught a glimpse of him twice since he’d signed herprogramme du bal. Once, he was dancing with a beautiful blond, the daughter of a duke. The pair talked animatedly, causing Catherine to grip her dance partner’s shoulder so tightly that he visibly winced. The second time, Sather was sipping punch, standing with a group of titled gentlemen that were said to be among some of the best catches of the Season. She wondered if he were friends with any of the men. The earl standing next to Sather had been one of those who’d already offered for her. Catherine couldn’t help speculate if her name had come up during their conversation and what the earl might have said to the handsome marquess.

Oh, he was so very handsome. Though his countenance seemed serious, he had piqued her interest with his teasing remark about creating a little gossip within theton. Despite knowing better, Catherine hadn’t been able to politely contain her laughter. Instead, it had erupted without warning—and the Marquess of Sather had surprisingly joined in. His sonorous laugh came from deep within his belly. It wasn’t the refined, indulgent chuckle she was used to hearing from others attonevents. No, his laugh was genuine and honest and made her wish she could strike every name from her dance card and spend the rest of the evening with him.

At least they would be able to sup together after their dance. She looked forward to learning more about him. Since he hadn’t been in London until only recently, she’d never heard his name mentioned. She knew nothing about him except for his title and that he was a good friend of Morefield’s. That spoke well of Sather, to know he had Morefield’s friendship. He had seemed very kind, which was why she had considered spending extra time with him tonight. Now, though, all thoughts of Morefield fled as her mind filled with Sather’s image.

Only one more dance to go.

The music ended and her dance partner returned her to where he’d claimed her for their set. Charlotte had already arrived and stood next to a girl that Catherine immediately recognized as the one who’d danced with Sather. Catherine thanked the earl for partnering with her, knowing he’d never ask her to do so again, thanks to her utter distraction and his probable bruised toes.

“I don’t believe we’ve met,” she began, nudging Charlotte.

“Oh, this is Lady Amanda Rutherford. Please meet my closest friend, Lady Catherine Crawford,” Charlotte said. “Lady Amanda’s parents are hosting tomorrow night’s ball.”

“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Catherine said. “What does your dress for tomorrow evening look like?”

Lady Amanda went into excruciating detail about her gown, almost boring Catherine to tears, but she wanted to have some conversation between them before she mentioned Sather. Finally, the young woman took a breath.

“It sounds delightful. I look forward to seeing you in it.” She paused. “Did I see you dancing with the Marquess of Sather earlier?”

“Yes. Jeremy returned from abroad only late this afternoon.”

So his given name was Jeremy.

“You must know him quite well to address him by his Christian name rather than his title.”

Lady Amanda smiled. “Jeremy’s brother and mine were friends at Eton. Both Jeremy and Timothy came to visit us on several occasions and Marcus went to Eversleigh, as well. Marcus was thick as thieves with both St. Clairs for several years.” A shadow crossed her face. “I fear Timothy was the link between them, though. Once he passed, Marcus and Jeremy’s friendship fell by the wayside.” She brightened. “Still, it was good seeing Jeremy again. I hope he will come to more events now that he’s home again.”

Catherine felt obligated to ask, “Do you have a particular interest in him?”

“Jeremy? Not at all. Even after such a long time of not seeing him, we fell into our usual pattern of picking at one another, much like a brother and sister.” Lady Amanda paused. “Why? Are you interested in him?”

Not wanting to reveal how taken she was with the marquess, Catherine said, “He and his friend, Viscount Morefield, both asked me for a dance this evening. I know something of Morefield but was curious about his friend since I’ve never seen him this Season.”

Lady Amanda’s eyes lit up. “I danced earlier with Morefield.” Lowering her voice, she tilted her head closer and confided, “Now, he’s one I find most interesting. Handsome. Well spoken.”

She nodded. “He has made a good impression on me, as well.” Seeing how Lady Amanda felt, Catherine said, “You would make a striking couple. You are both blond and would have adorable children.”

A hopeful look blossomed on the young woman’s face. “I think so, too. I only need Morefield to think the same. He’s a bit shy.”

“The next time I speak with him, I will be sure to sing your praises,” Catherine promised.

Her next partner was a lisping viscount. After the usual talk of the weather, he ended their conversation. She concentrated on her dance steps in order to save his toes and was happy when the dance ended and he parted from her. Her insides already fluttered in anticipation and it grew tenfold as she watched the Marquess of Sather stride confidently toward her. She reminded herself not to become tongue-tied. He was only one man, albeit an incredibly handsome one. Looks faded over time. Conversation and common interests would be what remained. She needed to see if this man showed potential in either area. Now that her father had granted her the option of ending her first Season without being forced to choose a husband, Catherine had the luxury of truly getting to know different suitors without rushing to the altar.

She very much wanted to learn all about Jeremy St. Clair.

He bowed as he reached her, his smile reaching his eyes, unlike so many men of theton.

“I believe the supper dance is ours, Lady Catherine.”

He offered her his arm and escorted her onto the ballroom floor as the strains of the waltz began. Catherine shivered in anticipation.

“Are you cold?” he asked.

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