Page 20 of A Virgin to Tame the Duke
“Why the bitterness?” Anastasia squeezed her arm. “He has chosen you to charm, and can you remain hard-hearted in the face of it?”
“I see he has already won you over,” Charlotte said, resigned. This didn’t come as a surprise—particularly when her mother had urged her to accept him—but she felt rather as though she was being abandoned in her steadfast dislike of him.
“I was predisposed to like him, and after seeing the way he’s treated you with such delicate attentions and gifts, I confess I like him very much. Can you say you’re not pleased?”
Charlotte could, in fact, say she was not pleased, but she bit her lip and remained silent. Perhaps at the latest ball being thrown for her, she would encounter a gentleman she wished to marry, and this entire façade could be forgotten.
ChapterEight
Their engagement ball took place a week after they had agreed to remain engaged, and Aaron made no request of his aunt other than that eligible gentlemen should be invited. She had cast him an odd look, but he hadn’t explained, and she, bless her, hadn’t inquired further into his business.
How he wished to conduct this business was between Charlotte and him alone.
After spending much of the past week in her company, he had come to appreciate to a much greater extent how miserable her home life was. Lady Marcella, jealous and slighted, tormented her, and even over the course of one week, Charlotte’s eyes grew heavy with exhaustion and a sorrow he never dared pry into.
The Earl of Lowood, while never going as far as to turn Aaron from the house, was singularly unwelcoming. If this had been anything but a ruse, he would have given up already. As it was, he sent her trifles every couple of days and endeavored to see her every day.
She even did a tolerable impression of being pleased to see him. Considering how blatant her distaste for him had been at the beginning, he considered this a victory. When at last the ball arrived, he was pleased to see she wore a white gown that, while a little outdated, did more for her complexion then that the yellow dress of a few weeks ago.
In fact, she was remarkably pretty, and he felt an unfamiliar stab of pride as she accepted his arm and walked into the ballroom with him.
“You’re smiling,” he said under his breath as they circled the guests. “Should I call a physician now or later?”
“Must you be so objectionable?” she muttered, smiling into the face of a handsome gentleman Aaron recognized as being Lord Crawford.
“You are the only one who thinks that.”
“Perhaps you’ve not held a longer conversation with anyone else,” she muttered back, but he was rewarded by the sight of her lips twitching. “If you were wondering, you’re also insufferably arrogant.”
“You wound me.”
“If that were true, I might be inclined to feel pity.” She curtsied to another gentleman wishing to dance with her and let him sign his name on her card. Aaron watched on with the amount of possessiveness he thought befitted a man in his position. The first dance, as he had already informed her, was to be his. At their ball, thrown to celebrate their engagement, he would demand nothing less.
“I see in your eyes that you think I’m incapable of proper feeling,” he said, smiling down at her, aware of all the watching eyes.
She laughed. “Have you done anything to prove me wrong?”
“I might have thought my search for my sister might have redeemed me somewhat.”
A frown crossed her face, and she glanced up at him quickly, looking away before he could decipher the expression on her face. “Yes,” she said after a moment. “Yes, your concern for your sister is to your credit.”
Though he had said it in jest, his stomach tightened as he looked out across the gathered crowd. They had all arrived to celebrate his engagement, but few remembered his sister was still missing. Few considered what might have happened to her. Few remembered to worry.
“The Runners are on the case,” Charlotte said softly, recalling his attention. “If there’s anything to find, I’m sure they will have found it by now.”
“And if she’s lying hurt somewhere?” He swallowed and forced a smile. “But now is not the time for such melancholy thoughts. Will you dance with me?”
She placed her hand in his. “Only because you asked me so nicely.”
Dancing with Charlotte was a remarkably refreshing experience. Usually, the ladies he danced with were inclined to engage him in conversation or to demonstrate their skill and grace. Charlotte cared for none of these things; she enjoyed dancing for the purpose of dancing, and sometimes, when she looked at him with joy on her face—the most joy he’d ever seen her wear—he thought maybe he could learn to love to dance, too.
She also possessed, he noticed, natural grace. Hers was not the studied grace of the polished, highly refined ladies; she moved through the air as though it were not an obstacle. Her grace came from the way she lifted her chin, her smile, and the way she let the music guide her. Her grace was born, not created, and he found he appreciated it more.
If she would not be a damn inconvenient bride and in search of rather more than he could offer her—he’d known enough ladies to recognize a romantic spirit when he saw one—he might have been tempted to marry her after all. As it was, he made note of the gentlemen watching her with particular interest and resolved to introduce her to them.
Lowood, having arrived after all, leaned against the far wall and watched them with a scowl. Aaron could have taught him a thing or two about wearing his heart on his sleeve, but Lowood was not a man who appreciated advice and certainly not from his rival.Certainlynot in the way Aaron would present it. He disliked the man too much to be considerate.
“There,” Aaron said as the dance ended, and she curtsied opposite him. “We have done our duty, and you are now free to find your future husband.”
