Page 12 of A Virgin to Tame the Duke
“I could do nothing less considering you are in this contemptible situation.” Charlotte rubbed her head, wondering how it always managed to ache around Sebastian. Thankfully, her mother and Marcella entered the carriage and put a temporary stop to Sebastian’s sweet talking, but he was swift to begin it again when they arrived.
“After all,” he whispered as they entered the drawing room, and all of Charlotte’s worst fears were realized; everyone stopped to stare. Whispers rustled from behind fans, accompanied by narrow-eyed stares and pursed lips. “You are extremely dear to me, and—”
“Charlotte,” Marcella said with a cruel smile. “Surely you cannot be thinking of dancing with your cousin when you have been so elevated.”
Sebastian’s hand tightened on her arm. The air felt too hot, congealing in her lungs.
“She may dance with whom she pleases,” Sebastian said stiffly.
“Yes, but she does not want to dance with you, Brother.” Marcella took Charlotte’s arm and led her away. Charlotte hardly knew what was worse: standing with Sebastian and accepting his compliments or walking with Marcella and suffering her barbed comments. Oh, that she had never come.
“Now we shall see how true this engagement really is,” Marcella whispered viciously. She steered Charlotte directly into the path of the Duke of Hexham who in the daylight looked even more handsome than Charlotte remembered. This time, however, he was sober and, with rage kindling in his eyes, far more intimidating. “Your Grace,” Marcella said, sinking into a curtsy and dragging Charlotte down with her. ““May I present Lady Charlotte? I believe you have not yet met.”
The Duke’s lips tightened as he looked at them both, but then he smiled. The blazing anger in his face dissolved into rakish charm. “You’re mistaken,” he said, his voice deeper and more gravely than Charlotte remembered it. “I’ve already had the pleasure of making Lady Charlotte’s acquaintance though you may not have heard the news.”
Charlotte gaped. Surely, he couldn’t mean to acknowledge the engagement.
“You have the pleasure of walking with my intended.” He swung his smile to Charlotte, and she cringed at the sharpness of it. “And such pleasure I’m sure it must be.”
“Such pleasure,” Marcella echoed, dissatisfaction settling on the pretty lines of her face.
“You do me too much credit,” Charlotte managed. “Many other ladies have more charms than I.”
“And yet you are the one to have ensnared me,” he said, his subsequent smile more a baring of teeth. Charlotte bit back a shiver.
“I had not realized you already knew each other,” Marcella said. The Duke didn’t glance away from Charlotte, and she had the sensation that he was flaying her alive from the sheer force of his gaze. His eyes were the same color as the frozen blue sky, but it was not as cold—no, the heat that lay there came from fury, so well disguised that Charlotte was not surprised no one else saw it.
“I suppose we did keep it a little secret,” he said, “but now our secret is out.”
“And how,” Marcella pressed, “did you meet?”
Please, Charlotte pleaded silently,don’t betray me.
“On a night that remains seared on my memory,” the Duke said. He held out a hand to Charlotte. “Come, Lady Charlotte, dance with me.” It was a command, not a request, but Charlotte had no choice, again, but to accept though she hated it. She hatedhim.
“You are not obliged to dance with me,” she said stiffly as he led her away from Marcella. His hand was tight enough around hers that she couldn’t have escaped even if she wanted to.
The Duke’s eyes sparked. “No? Ought I not to dance with my intended?”
“Be careful with your words, Your Grace.”
“Oh, I’m very careful with my words.” He pulled her in closer as the next dance began—a poorly timed waltz. “I’m so careful with my words I shall let no one but you suspect what I am feeling.”
He was so very close. His heat seared into her, and the hand on her waist threatened to dip improperly low. “If you are angry, I don’t blame you, but you cannot—”
“Oh, not in public,” he said, tightening the hand on her waist. “If we are to argue, it cannot be in public.” He offered her a mocking smile. “And though you wish to put me in my place, My Lady, I beg you would conceal that desire from your face.”
Charlotte swallowed as they followed the steps of the dance—steps that she had been taught from an early age but that had felt like clockwork before the Duke’s arms were around her, steering her as effortlessly as a boat glides through the waves. She was floating, and he was the wind. Of course, on top of everything else, he had to be an excellent dancer.
“Smile,” he murmured, lowering his face so he breathed the words across her hair.
“Is that a command?”
“If it means you will obey, then yes.” Oh, she hated him.Hatedthe fact she was so very aware of his proximity, that she understood how easily a young lady might fall into the unrestrained charm of his gaze, and the way he looked at her as though she were the only woman in the room.
“A poor attempt, but that shall have to do.” He gripped her hand still tighter as he smiled down at her. If it hadn’t been for the flame still ignited behind his eyes, she might have been tempted to believe it. “I hardly understand why you believe you are the one with the right to scowl at me.”
“Why did you come?” she hissed, fixing the smile to her face though it felt more like a grimace.
