An Unlikely Duchess Page 18

  “I believe what my son is trying to say is that he approves, my dear,” the dowager seemed to be thoroughly enjoying herself.

  Rebecca smiled, secretly delighted to have caused such a reaction in him. She was honest enough to admit that was precisely what she had wanted.

  “Shall we, your grace?” she asked with a confidence borne of knowing she had caused such a reaction.

  Edward, still unable to speak, merely nodded before standing back and allowing the ladies to precede him to the ducal carriage. It was going to be a long night.

  ****

  The ballroom of the March’s townhouse was bedecked with sweeping folds of white material, hundreds of candles and vase upon vase of white flowers. It was also filled to bursting and Rebecca found it enchanting.

  As they waited in the receiving line to meet their hosts, Rebecca was aware of looks of curiosity from the ladies and frank appreciation from the men present. Edward’s hand on her lower back guided her through the crowd and Rebecca felt that she was being branded by it.

  What would it be like, she wondered, to be his wife? To have him look after her like this all the time? She quickly quashed the thought before it could fully form. She’d been through this hundreds of times. It was not going to happen.

  Several people approached them for introductions and soon Rebecca’s head spun with names, titles and connections. The ladies, for the most part, seemed pleasant enough though there were some discernible scowls from those who noticed Edward’s protectiveness over his charges. The gentlemen were polite but rather forward and Rebecca found she had to bite her tongue on more than one occasion when a remark or impudent look set her teeth on edge.

  Rebecca obviously wasn’t the only one to notice. It seemed that for every lascivious glance, Edward took a step closer, usually accompanied by a none-too-subtle swear word.

  And so it was that by the time they reached their hosts, Edward was pressed so closely to Rebecca’s back that a fan would not have fit between them.

  The dowager introduced them to their hosts, Lord and Lady Marsh, who were simply delighted to have the daughters of the Earl of Ranford at their event.

  The dowager was very well pleased with the stir the girls were creating. “What a buzz surrounding you, girls. I am elated. Edward you must make sure to dance with both of the girls, secure their standing at once, not that they need any help in that department.”

  With a wave of her fan, she made her way to the other matrons of the ton, sitting in a corner of the room, reigning over all who passed them.

  The evening took off at a whirlwind pace. There were introductions, polite chats and so much dancing Rebecca’s feet ached!

  Mr. Crawdon had arrived not long after their party and had immediately asked Rebecca to dance. She took great pleasure in the cotillion they danced together. Mr. Crawdon was an easy partner to dance with. He evoked none of the strange feelings in her that his cousin did and he was terribly amusing.

  After he returned her to Edward, Rebecca fully expected the duke to ask her to dance but before they even got a chance to talk, another gentleman approached, then another, then another. Soon Rebecca’s card was completely filled… and Edward had not asked her to dance once.

  Rebecca did her best not to look disappointed but she could not help but wonder why he did not ask her to dance. He had danced with Caroline while Rebecca had danced with Mr. Crawdon. She knew because Mr. Crawdon had kept his eyes trained on the couple for almost the entirety of the dance. Rebecca had refused to look.

  She had not stopped dancing all night and was taking a much-needed moment to catch her breath from her partner, a young baron with far too much enthusiasm for talking, dancing and treading on toes. Her feet ached from the amount of times they’d been trod on.

  She glanced around the ballroom, vastly impressed by the glittering array of brightly coloured gowns and jewels. The ladies here most definitely dressed to impress. She had spent some time with the dowager who had introduced her to the other matrons of the ton. Each of them had looked her over thoroughly and each of them had declared her to be a success. Rebecca presumed this was a good thing.

  As Rebecca continued her perusal of the ballroom, she spied Edward. Her stomach dropped. There was a lady attached to him as if they’d been sewn together and Rebecca felt a stab of jealousy such as she’d never experienced. Her eyes narrowed as she studied the scene. Edward was smiling down at the beautiful woman who was clinging to his arm like a leech and gazing up at him adoringly. Rebecca did not like the way the lady kept rubbing his arm, nor the way she looked proprietorial about him.

  The scene did nothing to help her already sad mood concerning the duke, and Rebecca had seen enough.

  She spotted the doors to the balcony opened on the other side of the room and began to make her way toward them, meaning to make her escape before the return of her young dance partner.

  She made it outside without incident and exhaled in relief. She had been enjoying herself immensely but the ballroom was stifling and the duke’s snub had taken the shine off the evening somewhat. Not to mention the fact that he seemed to have grown an entire person out of the side of his body, she thought bitterly. Rebecca knew that people must have noticed his ignoring her. Caroline had definitely noticed since she’d asked Rebecca if they had gotten into an argument.

  Rebecca felt like crying. Why was he doing this now? She thought of the look on his face when he’d first seen her this evening. She thought of how he’d stayed glued to her side before they’d entered the ballroom. Why then, had he disappeared and paid her no attention at all since?

  She huffed out her frustration and made her way to the balustrade to lean her arms on it and contemplate the duke’s behaviour and her upset at it.

  That was where Edward found her moments later. He had seen the second she’d left the ballroom. He’d watched her all night.

  “Surely you know by now not to wander outside alone?” he asked gently.

  There were other couples walking up and down the terrace, taking the air and he did not want to draw their attention. What he wanted was to drag her off somewhere private, though he knew he could not.

  Rebecca turned at the sound of his voice but, besides a small, polite smile, gave him no greeting. He got the distinct impression that he was in trouble. He must tread carefully.

  “Are you cold?” he took a step closer.

  Rebecca shook her head in response.

  He stepped closer still.

  “How are you enjoying your first venture into Society?”

  “Oh, it is wonderful,” she replied brightly. But it sounded false.

  “You did not look as if you were enjoying it just now,” he answered.

  “And how would you know?” she bit out, “You seemed wholly occupied by your ‘companion’.” She spat the word as if it were an insult.

  Edward frowned as he thought about whom Rebecca meant.

  “My companion?”

  “Yes. The lady who could not seem to stand up by herself and required the assistance of your arm. In fact, you should probably return to the ballroom in case she has collapsed in a heap since you are not there to hold her up.”

  Edward bit back a grin though he had to admit to feeling smug at her obvious jealousy. As baffling as it was, she seemed to feel threatened by Lady Sarah. It was almost laughable.

  “Are you speaking of Lady Sarah?”

  “I do not know, your grace. I am speaking of the elderly lady in the red dress,” she sniffed.

  Edward had to bite back another grin.

  “Elderly lady?”

  “Well, I do not know her age of course. But she looked frightfully old.”

  “She is not yet thirty.”

  “How tragic, then, that she looks so much older.”

  Edward could not hold back the chuckle this time.

  “Oh, sweetheart. You really are one of a kind.”

  Rebecca spun to face him and her eyes glinted with an angry fire.


  “Lady Sarah, you will learn, has a tendency to cling to any and every man in the room at an event. She is the goddaughter of Lady March so is tolerated by that lady’s friends. She drinks too much and is quite scandalous but is harmless enough.”

  “She is also,” he continued drawing closer to her, “married.”

  Rebecca began to feel foolish for letting her jealousy loose. But nothing of what he said explained away the fact that he’d ignored her all evening.

  “I must admit, I am rather pleased that you are jealous.”

  “Jealous!” she scoffed. “I am not jealous, your grace.”

  “Really? You seemed to be. And I am rather an expert on jealousy.”

  “Oh, really? And how’s that?”

  “Because I’ve been eaten up with it watching you steal hearts all evening.”

  He really had an unnatural talent for making statements that took her breath away.

  But she refused to be charmed by his honeyed words, knowing them to be untrue.

  “Really, your grace, there is no call for exaggerating. I am aware that whatever interest you had in me has — has waned.”

  As difficult as the words were to utter, they had to be said. Rebecca had been foolish to spend her time dreaming of Edward, of spending the summer together. While they’d been alone he had been flirtatious and attentive. But now, on the first public outing of the Season, he had ignored her entirely. And, though it was hard to accept, those were the cold, hard facts.

  It was better to get things out into the open now so that they could both move on.

  “Believe me, it has far from waned. Much as I’ve tried, Rebecca, I cannot fight the effect you have on me. And more and more, I am finding I do not want to.”

  “But you’ve ignored me all evening,” Rebecca blurted out, sounding like a spoiled child but not caring.

  “Ignored you! I haven’t stopped watching you from the second you came down the stairs in my mother’s house,” he retorted almost angrily. “I could not ignore you even if I wanted to.”

  “Yet you have not asked me dance,” she muttered.

  “And when was I supposed to do that, hmm? Was I to fight my way through your sea of admirers? To do battle for a cotillion? I did not get a chance to ask you to dance. But believe me, I have not been ignoring you.”

  Rebecca felt warmed by his words and relief flowed through her. He had not lost interest in her. If anything, he seemed rather put out that she had been attended to so much by other men. Did he not realise that none of them even held a candle to him?

  She suddenly felt younger and more carefree. Happier than she had since they’d arrived. All of her resolutions to stay away from him, all of her assertions that distance between them was for the best flew out the window.

  Rebecca suddenly beamed at him and Edward felt as if the sun had come out.

  “So, you will dance the dinner waltz with me?”

  “I cannot, your grace. I have promised it to—”

  “I do not care. You are dancing it with me.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  Edward smiled ruefully.

  “Pardon me, my lady,” he said with a bow, “What I mean is, would you do me the honour of dancing it with me?”

  Rebecca giggled and hit him lightly with her fan.

  “Oh do get up,” she admonished since he still hadn’t straightened.

  “Not until you say yes.”

  She laughed again. “I cannot. I have promised it.”

  Edward straightened and sighed dramatically.

  “Alright. To whom is this most scandalous of dances promised then?”

  Rebecca checked her card.

  “To Viscount Hadley. Though, I confess, I cannot remember who he is.”

  “Let me escort you back in and we will find him.”

  Rebecca took his arm and steeled herself against the familiar shiver of need that coursed through her. She would never get used to that feeling.

  They re-entered the ballroom and Rebecca immediately spotted the Viscount. He was talking to the dowager and seemed to be searching for Rebecca given the way his eyes travelled the ballroom. He spotted her and a smile broke out on his handsome face. The smile, however, did not quite reach his eyes and Rebecca felt less than comfortable at the idea of spending even moments in his arms. Especially in such a dance as the waltz.

  He straightened his cravat and bustled toward them. Rebecca bit back a sigh and planted a polite smile on her face. He reached them and bowed so low Rebecca thought he would tip over.

  “My lady,” he spoke smoothly, “I believe the next is mine?”

  Rebecca really did not want to dance a waltz with him and had, in fact, been somewhat shocked that the dowager had permitted it. Although it was more often done in London than in the small assemblies back home, it was rather unheard of to dance it with a man one had only met. But the dowager had been most insistent that the Viscount should ask Rebecca and he had been more than happy to do so.

  “Good evening Hadley,” the duke’s pleasant tone sounded before Rebecca could answer, “I am sure you will not mind giving up your claim on the dance to me?”

  The young viscount looked surprised at Edward’s addressing him.

  “Your grace, I did not see you there.”

  Edward merely smiled and waited for the young man to answer his request.

  Rebecca bit back a smile. Really, it wasn’t fair for Edward to use his ducal arrogance on young bucks of the ton. They were ill equipped to deal with it.

  “Y-your grace,” Hadley stammered, “I am — that is to say — the lady said – well…” he stammered on some more while Edward’s expression remained coolly aloof and completely unchanged.

  After an excruciating moment of silence, the younger man relented.

  “Of course, your grace,” he mumbled unhappily before bowing to them both and taking his leave.

  Edward led Rebecca onto the floor.

  “That was badly done, your grace,” Rebecca chided, though she was thrilled to be in his arms at last.

  “Must we continue with this ‘your grace’ business, Rebecca?” was his only reply.

  “Edward,” she conceded, “you intimidated the wits out of him.”

  “Any man willing to give up your hand so easily is not worthy of it, sweetheart.”

  The first strains of the waltz started and Edward gathered Rebecca closer. His hand seared her waist and she felt her breathing quicken.

  They started to move to the music and Rebecca felt as if the world drifted away, until it was just Edward and she. The only two people in the world. He was a wonderful dancer.

  The atmosphere seemed to intensify between them as a magic spell started to weave its way around them. Neither spoke for words were unnecessary. And both were afraid to break it.

  They moved around the floor of the ballroom, completely oblivious to the attention they were attracting. They made a stunning couple, for one. Their intense regard for each other, too, was extremely obvious in the way they gazed into each other’s eyes, the way the young Duke of Hartridge held her as if he were holding a prized and rare jewel, the way Lady Rebecca gazed adoringly into the young man’s handsome face.

  The dowager heard the whispers and agreed with them all. In the normal course of events she would be concerned that Edward was subjected to such speculation. Since he’d become Duke of Hartridge he’d developed a seriousness about his character that, while completely necessary given the sheer volume of responsibility, was also sad since he seemed to have been robbed of his youth and former vivacity for life. Seeing him now, smiling and genuinely happy made her heart swell. She could very well see what was developing between these two young people, even if they could not. And it seemed it was becoming just as obvious to everyone else.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  The dance had finished but Edward was reluctant to let go of Rebecca. She was perfect, at least to him. Her hand felt tiny within his, her body, he knew, was a perfect fit t
oo. He gradually became aware of a strange sort of stillness and when he looked up he was surprised to see so many faces standing stock-still and staring at them.

  “Rebecca,” he whispered.

  “Hmm?” she was still gazing at him and he felt like picking her up and running from the eyes of the ton, from the speculation, from everything until it was just the two of them.

  “We seem to have drawn a crowd.”

  Rebecca blinked slowly then looked around. Immediately her cheeks flushed and she stepped away from him.

  The bell rang for dinner and the crowd began to disperse.

  He wondered if she was upset but when he looked at her again, he saw that she was grinning ruefully.

  “What’s the smile for?” he asked, adding, “Though I am not complaining. I love your smile.”

  She looked a little startled at his declaration but made no comment.

  “I was just thinking of how determined I was to cause no scandal this Season. To make my parents proud. And since yesterday I’ve almost been caught — well,” Here her cheeks blushed profusely. Edward thought it was adorable, “Well you know. With you.”

  He smirked but she ignored it.

  “Then I shouted at Caroline in front of you and your mother and now it appears I’ve committed some terrible crime by dancing with you. In short, I find it tragically amusing that even when I do not mean to do so, I stir up trouble wherever I go.”

  She laughed and shook her head.

  He watched her a moment before he replied.

  “Come. Let us take some air,” he said. He knew she was laughing about it but it must hurt for her to think herself a failure.

  “But the bell has gone for dinner.”

  “I will not let you starve, I promise.”

  Rebecca did not put up any more of a fight because she really did not want to fight it. Taking her arm once again, Edward led her outside. She suddenly remembered that she had not yet spoke to him about Mr. Simons.

  As soon as they were outside, she turned to him.

  “I am glad you’ve asked me to walk alone with you, Edward.”

  Before she could continue his eyes gleamed a silver fire and he grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her towards him.