Dancing with the Duke (2 page)

Lucy had warned her about Alex’s reluctance
to attend the ball. Charlotte knew her friend was only trying to
shield her from disappointment, and so she’d steeled herself not to
be disappointed when Alex left after the dance he’d promised her.
However, that hadn’t happened. As time passed and he remained, she
couldn’t hold back the hope that blossomed in her chest. She made
of point of appearing oblivious to his presence, but in truth, she
was aware of his every movement. She couldn’t help it. She’d loved
him forever.

She told herself it was foolhardy, but she
demurred when yet another gentleman asked her to reserve the waltz
for him. There was only one man she wanted to waltz with that
evening, and if he had no intention of dancing with her again, she
wouldn’t allow her hope to be dashed. For tonight, at any rate.

She sat on the sidelines for the moment,
stealing a few moments of peace with Lucy and her mother. She knew
that it would not last long. Lucy had been correct. When everyone
saw that the Duke of Clarington had danced with her, they’d all
wanted to know who she was. Women were curious and men were
intrigued. The Charlotte of old would have cringed under the
attention, and to be truthful there was still more than a little of
that person locked up inside her. If she was to gain Alex’s
interest, she knew she’d have to behave as though that was the last
thing she wanted. The only way to do that was to encourage other
men while attempting to remain indifferent to him.

The first strains of a waltz began to play,
and it took every ounce of her self-control not to search the room
for Alex. Her breath caught when a gentleman stopped in front of
her, but when she looked up, she was more than a little
disappointed to see it was not Alex. She’d danced with the
gentleman now in front of her earlier in the evening, and she
sighed inwardly as she tried to remember his name.

“I’m shocked that no one has claimed you for
this dance,” he said. “Would you do me the honor?”

Trying not to let her disappointment show,
she placed her hand in his and allowed him to help her up, but
before they could move further than a step he was there before
them.

Alex.

“I believe you promised this dance to me,” he
said.

She floundered for words, such was her
surprise, but only for a moment. She turned back to the other
man.

“I am sorry, my lord,” she said. “There have
been so many dances and I have met so many people that I’d
forgotten.”

He bowed and excused himself, and she found
herself, once again, being escorted by the only man to capture her
attention. Alex didn’t speak until they were on the ballroom floor,
something for which she was very grateful. She couldn’t believe she
was actually about to waltz with him. The excitement of that
prospect threatened to overturn her resolve not to betray her
interest in him.

She had to remind herself to breathe when he
placed one hand on her waist and took her hand into his. Somehow
she resisted the almost overwhelming urge to stroke his arm where
her hand rested. She could not, however, hide her happiness and
knew she’d have to explain it away lest he begin to suspect her
true feelings.

“That was inspired, Alex. Everyone will
notice that we’ve danced together more than once and be even more
intrigued by me.” A frown creased his brow, but she continued,
keeping her voice light. “It really is too good of you.”

He was silent for several seconds and
Charlotte began to fear that he’d seen through her façade. Thus,
she was relieved when he shrugged and finally spoke.

“Men want most what they think they cannot
have.”

“Indeed,” she said, sneaking a glance at the
sidelines and thankful when she finally remembered the other man’s
name. “Lord Haversham appears most put out. I don’t think he
believed that I’d promised you this dance.”

“I don’t care what Haversham thinks.”

Startled, Charlotte pulled back to look at
him. Lord Haversham didn’t appear to be the only man in a terrible
mood at that moment. Her spirits soared and her smile
broadened.

“Come, Alex, you need to at least pretend to
be enjoying this dance. Your scowl will have everyone believing
that waltzing with me is something to be endured.”

His frown disappeared. It wasn’t replaced
with a smile, but that was fine for now. In time she would get him
to smile.

“I wouldn’t have recognized you tonight if
you hadn’t come with my family,” he said.

She tilted her head and gazed up at him with
mock consternation. “I’m not sure if that is meant as a compliment
or an insult.”

“You used to remind me of a gangly colt.”

“Well, now I am sure that was an insult. Are
you actually saying I look like a horse?”

“Oh, no,” he said, the corners of his mouth
curving up with amusement. “That was definitely a compliment.”

“I fail to see how.”

His lips twitched as though he were holding
back a laugh. “You were all legs and arms back then, but you’ve
definitely grown into them.”

She sighed. “Yes. Inheriting my father’s
height has been most inconvenient. How I wish I were a more
acceptable height. Lucy’s, for example. Not too tall, but not too
short either.”

“Actually,” Alex said, a strange expression
on his face as he looked at her, “I quite like your height.”

Charlotte’s stomach gave an odd little flip.
“You do? Why?”

He cleared his throat and looked away from
her for a moment. “Perhaps I will explain it to you another
time.”

She had a feeling that their conversation had
turned onto a very different path, one not meant to be held in
public. She couldn’t stop the blush that crept over face and cursed
herself for that telling sign.

The music came to an end, and so did their
conversation. It was with mixed emotions that Charlotte let him
take her back to sit with his mother. She knew she had to appear
detached, but staying away from Alex and flirting with other men
was the very last thing she wanted to do.

He bowed, an abbreviated movement, and then
he was gone.

She felt a sense of loss as she watched him
move towards the exit, but was forced to keep her smile firmly in
place as she turned to face the two men heading in her
direction.

After that night at Almack’s, Alex vowed to stay away from Miss
Charlotte Grant, but he was finding the task an impossible one as
she was at the house every day, visiting with his sister. She’d
unsettled him that evening, and it was not a feeling he enjoyed.
He’d enjoyed even less watching her dance and flirt with what
appeared to be every man in London.

So whenever he ran into Charlotte at the
house, he made a point of engaging in only the briefest of polite
conversation before excusing himself. Fortunately, she was usually
gone by late afternoon, no doubt returning home to prepare for
whatever entertainment his mother and sister had planned for the
evening. He was only glad that his mother did not press him to go
with them, which meant that his assistance in launching Charlotte
into London Society was no longer needed. From the snippets of
conversation he managed to overhear, Charlotte was not lacking for
male attention. The thought never ceased to irritate him. There was
a part of him that wanted to protect her, but he forced himself to
ignore that desire. His mother wasn’t one of those permissive mamas
who paid only the barest attention to their charges. He knew he
could trust her to watch over the men who clamored for Charlotte’s
attention.

He was hiding that day, as he usually did, in
his study. He glanced up from the letter he was writing when the
clock chimed four and put down his quill with relief. Charlotte
would be well on her way home and it would be safe to emerge. He
frowned when he heard voices in the hallway, followed by a muffled
thump.

Wondering what his sister was up to now, he
went to investigate. He found her standing in the hallway, one
trunk at the foot of the stairs, and two footmen bringing another
into the house.

“Just leave it by the first one,” Lucy said.
“When all the trunks are in, I’ll show you where to put them.”

A finger of unease curled inside him. He
stayed back and watched as two more trunks were brought into the
house, after which his sister led the way upstairs while the
footmen brought up the first trunk.

Alex wracked his brain, trying to remember
how many trunks his sister had brought with her when they’d first
arrived in London, but the truth was he hadn’t paid any attention.
He only knew that there had been more than he would have imagined
possible. Surely she hadn’t arranged to have even more dresses
delivered to town.

His unease increased when Charlotte swept
into the house. He was torn between asking her what was happening
and retreating back to the study, but she looked up and saw him,
which made the decision for him.

She smiled and Alex felt a jolt of awareness
go through him. It always did whenever she was around.

She closed the space between them. “I cannot
express how much your family’s generosity has meant to me. Without
it my Season would have had to wait yet another year, at which
point I would be almost too old to bother.”

Alex had the impression there was more going
on than he’d been told.

“You have me at a disadvantage,” he said. “If
Lucy and my mother have done something more than sponsoring you at
various events, they haven’t informed me of it.”

She tilted her head to one side and looked at
him with bemusement. “You do know I will be staying here for the
rest of the Season, do you not?”

Lucy. He was going to strangle her. She could
have given him some advance warning. It was, after all, his
house.

“I do now,” he said dryly.

She clapped a hand over her mouth. “Oh! That
is very bad of Lucy. Are you sure she didn’t tell you and you
forgot?”

He definitely would have remembered if his
sister had mentioned this to him. No, she’d either thought he
wouldn’t care, or more likely, knew he wouldn’t be able to turn her
friend away after the deed was done.

“I am sure.”

She looked down at her hands, where her
fingers were tightly clenched. “Papa doesn’t like London and is
anxious to return home.” She hesitated for a moment before
continuing. “He’s courting someone and I expect he’ll ask her to
marry him soon. After Mama’s death, I never thought…” She dropped
her hands and lifted her face to meet his gaze. “It doesn’t matter
now. It was understood from the beginning that Papa would stay only
for a week to see me settled, but it’s clear you weren’t consulted.
Perhaps it would be best if I returned with him.”

Her disappointment made him feel like the
worst of cads. Charlotte was already consuming too much of his
thoughts, and the very last thing he needed was to have her living
under the same roof as him. Despite that, he found himself saying,
“We have the room. You are, of course, more than welcome to
stay.”

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t wish to be a
burden.”

He was saved from having to reply by his
sister’s appearance. Lucy hurried down the stairs and embraced her
friend.

“We’ll have so much fun now that you’re here.
Is that not right, Alex?”

They were both looking at him, and the weight
of Charlotte’s gaze as she waited for his response pressed in on
him.

“I need to get back to work,” he said, before
fleeing to his study again.

* * *

He escaped to his club that evening, and when
he returned after midnight the house was empty, as he’d expected.
He wondered, briefly, where they’d gone before quashing the errant
thought. It didn’t matter which event they were attending because
he had no intention of joining them. It was bad enough that he’d
been at Almack’s the week before. If he didn’t maintain his
distance from the social whirl, word would spread that the Duke of
Clarington was searching for a wife, and then he’d have to spend
the next few months dodging would-be duchesses.

He was surprised the following morning to
find Charlotte already in the breakfast room, a cup of tea and a
plate of toast before her. Given how late she had stayed out the
previous evening, he’d expected her to sleep in this morning. His
step faltered, but he covered his hesitation with a quick “good
morning” before heading to the sideboard to prepare his own
plate.

Charlotte waited until he was seated across
from her and a footman had poured his coffee before leaning forward
to speak. “Thank goodness you are here.”

He realized he could see down the front of
her dress and dragged his reluctant gaze upwards, expecting to see
a glimmer of satisfaction in her face. She certainly wouldn’t be
the first woman to attempt to capture his interest with a similar
display, but if she’d noticed the direction of his stare she gave
no sign of it.

He searched for something to say before
settling on the insipid, “Was your room not to your liking?”

“Nothing like that,” she said with a wave of
her hand. “I’m just glad not to be alone. I was afraid I’d come
down too early this morning.”

He could just imagine the surprise her
appearance had caused. “The staff are used to my sister and mother
sleeping late after being out and likely assumed you would do the
same. But I’m also an early riser, so you needn’t fear that you put
anyone out.”

She fell silent and nibbled on a corner of
her toast. Alex took a sip of his coffee and opened the morning
paper.

“It is a lovely morning, is it not?”

Alex murmured his assent but continued to
scan the paper’s headlines. He was determined not to allow
Charlotte’s presence in his house to disrupt his normal
routine.

“I think I have made up my mind,” she
said.