Page 39 of If Not for the Duke

He gave himself a mental shake. The conversation was ridiculous. They would’ve been better off speaking of the weather, as he’d suggested. It wasn’t as if they were planning a future together. What she believed shouldn’t—didn’t—matter.

He did his best to ignore the quiet voice inside him that argued otherwise.

The music started, and they took their first steps. Seemingly unaware of his swirling thoughts, Lena continued, “Love for family, friends, and life.” She smiled again. “The world would be a better place with more love.”

“You don’t mention love for a husband.” He watched her closely as they moved in time to the music. She was a beautiful lady of marriageable age. Her sisters had already found husbands. Surely, she intended to do the same.

“That is a more difficult task.” Her gaze fixed on something in the distance, her smile fading. “To be not only accepted and trusted but loved, despite one’s imperfections, is much to ask.”

Accepted? The word confused him. What did she mean? He didn’t know her well enough to ask, nor was this the time for such a serious conversation.

Instead, he’d settle for another smile.

“You couldn’t possibly have imperfections,” he teased, hoping to coax a smile from her. He much preferred them over the worry that shadowed her face.

To his surprise, the shadow deepened. “We all have a few. Some are easier to overlook than others.”

Her remark made him all the more curious. To what could she possibly be referring? Perhaps whatever it was explained the air of reserve that often came over her, the one that kept others at arm’s length. As if she had a secret she guarded closely.

He told himself that he didn’t want to know. And he didn’t. Sharing secrets meant trusting, and he wasn’t ready for that. She didn’t seem to be either.

“True,” he agreed, at last.

Lena was beautiful and intelligent. Any failings she thought she had were surely minimal. She never lacked for dance partners, that much he knew for certain, as Bernie had commented on it with a hint of envy.

They continued the rest of the dance, speaking little. They seemed to agree not to delve any deeper into the topic. Soon, the last strains of the music faded, and the dance ended.

After they curtsied and bowed, Sterling offered his arm, reluctant to return her to her sister’s side. He liked spending time with her even in companionable silence.

Lena squeezed his arm as if to gain his attention, and he glanced at her. “You still owe me a smile, Your Grace.”

“I believe I smiled several times during our dance,” he protested, pretending to scowl just to see her response.

“Those were accidental.” She lifted her chin, a teasing glint in her eyes. “I insist you keep your word.”

“Hmm.” He looked about the room with a frown, seeming to find little to smile about. “If I am to smile again, I would need a reason.” He focused on her and raised a brow. “You will have to provide one.”

“Me?” She blinked, clearly surprised by his demand.

A familiar anticipation ran through him as he guided her the long way around the ballroom, which took them past the door to a corridor that held no guests at the moment. If memory served him from his previous visits to Stanhope’s house, the passage led to a small receiving room unlikely to be used this evening.

He feigned nonchalance as he eased them just inside the corridor, blocking them from the view of the ballroom. He turned to face her, expectation—or was it desire?—stirring as he studied the lovely woman before him.

Lena’s chest rose and fell quickly beneath his interested gaze. Was she looking forward to a moment alone together as much as he was? Was she anticipating what might happen?

“How do you suggest I convince you to smile?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper in the dim, quiet space.

“It won’t be easy.” He pretended to ponder her question. “I do have one suggestion.” His gaze fell deliberately to her mouth as he reached for her waist.

“What might that be?” She stepped closer until their bodies touched. Her playful boldness was a force he hadn’t predicted. Her scent wrapped around him, tempting him further.

“A kiss.” He bent his head until their lips were only a breath apart.

“How can you smile if we’re kissing?” she murmured.

“I’ll smile after.” A mix of affection and desire curled through him. He took her mouth with his, need making him more forceful than he’d intended.

Rather than pull back in alarm, she pressed more firmly against him, her hands reaching around his neck, her fingers moving along the back of his head. His senses were immersed in all things Lena, from her scent to her touch to the feel of her soft form against his length.

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