Page 33 of Taken By the Dangerous Duke

“What is the matter?” asked Arthur.

“It is just that I—my father never let me go to balls. He wanted to sell me to the highest bidder, and a ball is not the place to do that, so I do not know how to dance.”

“Your face looks exactly how it did when we were boating,” said the duke. A flash of realization waved across his face. “Wait, you have never been out on a boat before?”

“Nor have I swam before, and I am glad that I did not need to.”

“I shall have to teach you a thing or two then. I mean, this is not anything to do with our agreement, I only want to expose you to things in life. As a friend.”

“As a friend,” said Margaret. “I can accept that. Well, I am not going to learn standing here, and there are far too many people out on the dance floor for anyone to be looking at me, so lead the way. Teach me to dance, Your Grace.”

Arthur smiled and held out his hand. Margaret took it, and she was led to the dance floor. Margaret looked around. No one else on the dance floor was looking at them. Instead, the young women and men were mostly looking at each other, and she could almost taste the excitement. It buoyed her spirit. Everyone was there to find their partner.

That saddened Margaret too. She had never been given that chance. She did not even need to find a man this way—she would have just enjoyed the search, the thrill of being chased, or the chase of a man she liked. Or the touch of a man, even if it were only to dance. She had been sheltered from so much in her life.

“Where have you gone? Eye contact is very important when we dance. We are in a group, but we are alone too. When we dance, you are the most important person in my world, and I am the most important in yours—for the duration of the dance.”

“I understand,” said Margaret, not quite understanding it, but the duke knew what he was talking about.

“Now, put your hand here on my shoulder, and place your other hand in mine.”

Margaret did as she was instructed, looking around at the other couples to make sure she was doing it right.

“I went to dance lessons when I was younger, but I never danced with a partner.” Margaret was self-conscious. “And, I have danced alone in my room when my father had gatherings. There was always music.”

“This will be different, but do not worry, I will guide you. The man always leads, so feel what the music is telling you, but feel what I am telling you too. I will move you with my hands, and all you have to do is let me.”

“How will I know—” The music started up.

“Don’t worry, you will,” said the duke over the noise.

Margaret opened her mouth to respond, but the touch to her side moved her in a large circle. She almost tripped over her feet, but the duke kept her standing. He pressed at her waist again, and Margaret moved, but more elegantly this time, making quick steps with her feet in time with the music.

“Up here!” shouted the duke.

Margaret had been watching her feet, and she looked back up into the duke’s eyes. He was smiling curiously at her, some amusement in his features but a twinkle of happiness too. She smiled back at the duke and concentrated on what he was telling her with his touch while trying to lose herself in the music at the same time.

She yelped in surprise when he brought both hands to her waist and lifted her up in the air to spin her halfway around. He took her hand again and they moved in a tight circle in time with the other couples, and in a larger circle as a group. And, Margaret truly did lose herself.

She felt as if she could close her eyes and the duke would guide her around the dance floor. She stared into his emerald eyes, bright and alive, if for a moment. She had seen his sadness but there was not a trace of it as they danced.

And she did close her eyes for a moment, but the man flashed in her head, interrupting her bliss. Margaret opened her eyes. The duke was looking at her with a worried expression, but they continued to dance.

No, it had not been when she had closed her eyes, it had been right before. He had been standing there over the duke’s shoulder: her father’s cousin—Gerald Swanson.

Margaret looked around furtively. It could not have been him; they were too far from London. She must have imagined it. But when the duke spun her around, she saw him again. But it had been too quick and he had been a blur, and again, she could not be sure.

“What is it?” mouthed Arthur.

Margaret could not answer. She looked from side to side, trying to find the man as she was spun and twisted. She either wanted to lay eyes on him or look at every single face in the hall to prove that her mind was playing tricks.

“What happened?” asked the duke when the music stopped. “Are you all right?”

“I think so,” said Margaret. “I thought I saw someone, but my mind was playing tricks.”

Margaret felt the prod in her back, and she spun around to come face to face with the sweaty, horrid man.

“You insubordinate, silly burick,” spat Gerald.

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