Page 8 of A Feud with the Duke

Alice curtsied to the Duke and Duchess, then allowed Duncan to kiss her gloved hand. He had a boyish face and tousled, brown hair, with bright hazel eyes and a quick smile. But Alice could not forget the unsmiling, harsh-faced man that she had locked eyes with earlier. She wanted to ask who he was.

Why? He did not smile at me with such a pretty mouth. In fact, he looked so intense it was almost frightening. There was a…a violence to the man.

It changed nothing. Those smoldering, dark eyes had burned into her with such ferocity. She found herself wanting to know more about him.

The next hour was a whirlwind of faces and names, titles, and introductions. A succession of young men were introduced to her, all looking smooth-cheeked and with sparkling eyes. They blended together. She found herself standing in the ballroom, sipping from a glass of refreshing fruit punch, and momentarily alone. Simon was engaged in conversation with the Duke of Norfolk nearby and his son was talking to Alice, or rather at her, about his father’s stables and his own prowess as a horseman.

Alice could not focus her mind to listen to him, drifting in and out of his conversation, making the right sounds to indicate interest but increasingly overwhelmed by the sights and sounds of the ball. Ruth appeared at her elbow.

“May I steal my sister away, my lord? I have not had an opportunity to speak with her since she came down. I will return her.”

“Be sure that you do. I have already claimed the first dance,” Duncan said.

Ruth led Alice away.

“I thought you might need rescuing. Young Duncan is a handsome fool. Dull doesn’t even come into it,” Ruth said.

“Thank you. I was getting a bit overawed by the whole occasion,” Alice replied.

“That is what older sisters are for. Still, the Norfolk’s are an old and respected family. Worth considering, dullard or not.”

“You are not seriously expecting me to think of husbands just yet?” Alice said.

“I certainly am. I did. That is why Simon has been steering you from handsome young man to handsome young man. Until he let himself be cornered by Norfolk. I wonder what could be so important.” Ruth looked back over her shoulder where Simon was talking with some animation, and Norfolk listening intently.

“There was a man I saw when I was coming down the stairs,” Alice said. “He caught my attention…”

“Really? Well, why didn’t you say? Who was he?” Ruth said with excitement.

“I don’t know his name. And I haven’t yet been introduced to him. He has…”

“Not introduced. An eligible young man omitted from your welcome? Tsk, tsk, Simon. This will not do at all. What did he look like? Can you see him anywhere? I do wonder why he has not made himself known. Perhaps he is not eligible.”

As she spoke she was leading Alice around the edges of the ballroom, acknowledging the looks and smiles of other guests as she went. Alice began looking around the room to see if she could see the dark-haired man but suddenly, Ruth grabbed her elbow and spun her around.

“This way I think. I see someone you really must be introduced to. Yes, over there. Come along, Alice.”

Alice was turned around so quickly she was afraid she might lose some of the jewels that had been woven into her hair. Ruth was suddenly talking very quickly and casting furtive glances over her shoulder. After she had propelled Alice halfway across the ballroom, almost at a forced march, Alice managed to free herself from her sister’s grasp.

“Ruth, what on earth has gotten into you? One minute you’re marching me in one direction, then wrenching me in the other.”

“I told you…” Ruth began.

“And I can see you looking over your shoulder. What is it you don’t want me to see?”

Ruth’s mouth opened and closed for a moment. Then she put her head beside Alice’s, smiling for the benefit of the guests around them.

“A man I would rather you didn’t meet. A rogue, the blackest of blackguards, and a rake of the worst order.”

Alice looked back in the direction they had come from but could see no one who looked like they fitted the description.

“Who is he?”

“His name is… He is the Duke of Redwood. And he is to be avoided at all costs. Do you understand? Any association with him is a guarantee of scandal.”

Alice nodded, still looking, imagining a man with the horns of a devil or possibly the cloven hooves of a satyr. At that moment, music started and the guests began to pair off to begin the dancing. Duncan appeared at Alice’s elbow, bowing over her hand.

“May I?”

---