Lucien just hummed again, a short, sound that carried no concern, because Knightly was wrong. , Annabelle would debut when Annabelle was ready, and no amount of posturing from men who measured women’s value by their availability would change that. He had promised her that much, and unlike most promises made in this ballroom, his was one he intended to keep.
“Enjoy your game, Knightly.”
He strode off, taking another flute glass, but before he could find somewhere to linger and watch the ballroom unfolding, a hand plucked the glass right out of his hands.
Lucien spun around, finding the Duke of Silverford, Dominic Barrow.
“Good evening, friend.” Dominic gulped down the drink he had stolen, smirking as he handed Lucien the glass back. “I cannot help but notice how many eager ladies are watching you tonight. Heavens, their mouths can barely close for how you make their jaws drop. Then again, thatisa lovely, dark tailcoat. Very complementary of your hair color.”
“Barrow.” Lucien smiled, clapping his friend on the back. “Firstly, thank you. Secondly, do replace my drink, will you?” He playfully pushed the other duke away, hearing Dominic laughing as he did indeed replace the flute, also taking another for himself.
By the time Dominic returned, Lucien had politely smiled but successfully fielded another lady’s advance.
“See?” Dominic prompted, brushing back some of his dark, shoulder-length hair. “They cannot get enough of you.”
Lucien sighed, looking out at the ballroom. “And yet tonight, I find myself getting enough of them. Well and truly.”
“I saw you with the three ladies before,” Dominic pointed out. “You seemed quite taken with their company.”
“I was,” he admitted. “Until they overstayed the conversation.”
Dominic snorted, shaking his head. “Everybody overstays something with you, Fairmont. You like what you like, but you grow tired of it quickly.”
I did not always, he thought, but held back from saying it. He had a friend in Dominic, but he was always careful with what he revealed. Even with people who had earned it.
“Which is precisely why marriage is the last thing on my mind.”
“You cannot avoid it forever,” Dominic pointed out, and Lucien shrugged.
“But I can right now, and that is fine with me.”
Dominic studied him. The teasing edge left his voice. “You know I’m not asking out of ignorance, Lucien. I know what happened with Lady Vivian. Everyone knows. What I am asking is whether you intend to let one woman’s betrayal govern the rest of your life or whether at some point you plan to stop punishing yourself for trusting the wrong person.” Lucien stiffened. He kept his eyes trained on a lady who spun in a suitor’s arms, her red hair flying out around her shoulders, and for a minute, he was back in another ballroom, watching another red-haired girl whose laugh had been the prettiest thing Lucien had ever heard, and he had been happy to watch her dance in the arms of his friend, knowing they were all closer than anything.
His breathing turned shallow, and he blinked, coming back to the Morrows’ ballroom. This lady was notthatone, and he was a far cry from the man he had been back then.
He turned to Dominic, his defenses rising. “I do not want to explain myself.”
His friend frowned, lifting a hand in mock surrender. “All right? I am sorry if I hit a nerve but?—”
“Do not worry, it is not you.” Lucien waved the worry away, drinking from his flute. He suddenly was very exhausted of the ball, and was thinking of ways to make an early leave, when he saw a woman approaching him, flanked by two ladies.
His stomach dropped, but he put on that charming smile as she got closer, her attention honed on him. He knew this would be a meeting he could not politely escape.
“Your Grace,” she called out, an affect to her voice that was immediately, overly false, and Lucien fought to keep that smile in place. “I must say, how wonderful to see you present tonight.”
At his side, Dominic laughed, clapping his shoulder. “Is he not present at most balls? We can always count on him to be there.”
“Indeed, we can, and a very joyous occasion to be tonight as well. May I introduce my two, beautiful daughters?”
She stepped aside, gesturing to one girl with auburn hair in a gown that looked as though it shimmered as the sea itself. She was curvy, generously bosomed, and perhaps if she had not been pushed in his direction, she may have naturally caught his eye.
“Lady Belinda, ten-and-nine, who ismostproficient at the flute.” She then gestured to her slightly shorter, thinner daughter, attired in a ruby gown that hugged her body. “And Lady Joanna, ten-and-seven, also proficient at music.”
The lack of specificity didn’t go unnoticed by Lucien, and Lady Joanna frowned, as if she had been expecting a higher introduction like her sister, before she quickly brightened her smile once more. In tandem, the two curtsied, demurely lifting their gazes to look at him from beneath their lashes.
Lucien had seen the gesture a thousand times, but he kept on smiling, taking both of their hands to kiss their knuckles.
“It is lovely to make your acquaintance, ladies,” he said. “And may I introduce His Grace, the Duke of Silverford, Dominic Barrow?”