“That’s precisely what I was wondering. I was also wondering if you would grace me with a dance?”
She didn’t much care for Lord Somersby’s mocking manner, but in the name of researching rakes, she was duty bound to accept his offer. She inclined her head and allowed him to take her arm and lead her into the exact middle of the floor.
“Do you like to be the center of attention, Lord Somersby?”
“Always,” he said with a seductive smile. “Especially when I have such an enchanting creature on my arm.”
She smiled, remembering to make it demure just in time. “I’m hardly enchanting.”
“Have you looked in a mirror tonight? Your hair is the color of sunlight dancing on a field of marigolds, your eyes sparkle brighter than any emeralds, and your lips...” He paused, staring intently at her mouth. “I could write a sonnet about your lips.”
“Then by all means, write it!” she cried, delighted. Finally she would make some progress on her novel. “This is wonderful dialogue.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“I meant compliment. That is a wonderful compliment.”
“There’s more where that came from, my lady.”
He twirled her by the waist, his hand pressing harder than it needed to. She found herself breathless, but mostly from the twirling. He was incredibly good-looking, and he was well aware of it.
A rake was a curious beast. He was very handsome, there was no disputing that, but he was vain to the point of staring at his reflection every time they passed the large mirror on the wall, gazing into his own eyes with apparent satisfaction. His waistcoat was embroidered with a pattern of orange-striped tigers, and he wore gold rings on nearly every finger.
“Why do you have tigers embroidered on your waistcoat, my lord?”
“All the better to devour you with, Miss Crewe,” he said with a lascivious wink.
He did say the most shocking things. She should at least pretend to be scandalized. As he spun her in his arms, she noticed that the duke was back in the ballroom. He stood against the far wall with his friend Patrick. They were both watching Ana and Somersby dance.
His watchful gaze made her tilt her head back to laugh, even though Somersby’s conversation was more outré than witty.
The duke’s expression turned positively thunderous. She did enjoy needling him, making him growl. He looked as though he wanted to stalk onto the dance floor and rip her from Somersby’s arms.
Lady Lydia wanted to convince the duke to dance with her. It would be easier to convince a mountain to become a valley.
Or a dragon to purr like a kitten.
Patrick gazed amusedly at his friend. “If you glower any harder, a crack will open up in the marble floor and swallow us all.”
“I hate this.”
“Then why did you come? You engaged a chaperone for her, who is terrifying, I might add.”
“I came because...” He wanted to be near her. Feel the brush of her fingers against his arm. She was all he thought about. Her fresh lavender scent. The brightness of her hair. The lines of her neck. The curve of the inside of her elbow. He was committing her every feature to memory, storing it up for the time when she would leave his care. “I can’t trust Aunt Glynis to properly vet the candidates. She’s dancing with that damned Somersby. I’ll warn him away from her after the dance.”
He couldn’t let her out of his sight again. Too many predators in this ballroom.
After she finished the dance with Somersby, he’d pull the man aside. Have a private conversation about how he was never to touch his ward again or he’d be staring at the inside of a coffin.
“I saw you two together at the art gallery. The way she’s alwaystouching you. She teases you, tries to get a rise out of you, wants you to smile and laugh and be loving with her.”
“You’re mistaken.”
“Am I? I don’t think so. But if I am wrong about you two, then tell me what it is that’s gotten into you lately?”
“What do you mean?” Dex responded cagily. He hated that he was so transparent to his friends.
“You created quite the disturbance at a certain brothel the other day. Whatever made you choose to play the knight errant at Madame D’Oiseaux’s, of all places?”