Dancing with the Duke

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Dancing with the Duke Page 2

by Suzanna Medeiros

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.

  Chapter Two

  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.

  Giving up, Alex folded the paper and placed it beside his plate.

  “About what?” he asked as he reached again for his cup.

  “About whom I’m going to marry, of course.”

  He narrowly avoided choking on the coffee. “You’ve already received offers of marriage?”

  She laughed. “Of course not. It’s still early in the Season.”

  Charlotte’s response gave him pause, and he wondered why he felt out of step in her presence. It couldn’t have been her beauty, for she was hardly the first beautiful woman he knew. It must be the fact that he still found it so hard to believe this was the same girl he’d once known.

  “If you’ve received no offers,” he asked, “then how have you come to a decision?”

  She took another bite of her toast, and he found himself watching the movement of her mouth far too closely.

  She waved the toast airily. “I have decided who I will encourage, of course. I am confident that with enough attention I can bring this person to propose to me.”

  Alex could very well believe that. And to think he’d once deemed Charlotte Grant to be without charm. He’d watched her work her magic on other dazzled men that night at Almack’s… had even been momentarily struck off balance by it himself.

  He was almost afraid to ask the next question. “And who have you decided on?”

  “Lord Haversham. He is a little older than me… almost as old as you. But he seems to like me well enough, don’t you think? He’s also very attractive. I believe we’d have lovely children together.”

  He was stunned by her announcement. Haversham? Not if he had any say in the matter, and he very much intended to. It occurred to him, however, that he would have to be careful with his response. He’d heard enough from his sister over the years to know Charlotte could be very stubborn. If he tried to forbid her to encourage Haversham, she’d likely do the exact opposite.

  Feigning a casualness he was far from feeling, he picked up his paper again and unfolded it. “I’m sure Haversham would make a very good husband for you,” he said, staring blindly at the articles on the front page. He waited a beat before adding, “I’m sure you won’t mind having a small wedding.”

  There was a brief hesitation. “I hadn’t given thought to my future wedding.”

  “Good. So you won’t have built up your expectations.”

  He suppressed his smile of satisfaction when she took the newspaper from him, and raised a brow in question.

  She sighed. “Clearly, you have something you want to tell me.”

  “Me? Of course not. I would never presume to tell you what to do.”

  Two small lines appeared between her eyes when she frowned. “It’s obvious you know something I do not.”

  He brought a forkful of his eggs to his mouth and finished chewing, taking his time, before replying. He was heartened when Charlotte crossed her arms, not bothering to hide her annoyance at being kept waiting. Good. Why should he be the only one uncomfortable with this whole absurd situation?

  “Lord Haversham is currently experiencing a slight problem with his finances. It would seem that he likes to play cards a little too much. Unfortunately, they do not appear to like him.”

  “Oh,” she said, her annoyance deflating.

  “Quite. But I am sure the two of you will get along very well despite your reduced circumstances.”

  The look she aimed at him was filled with suspicion. “He does not appear to be living in the manner of one who does not have much money.”

  He shrugged. “Shopkeepers are very willing to extend credit to those they feel can afford it. When word spreads, I am sure you will find the situation much changed. Unless, of course, you two are married by then. I am sure your dowry will keep you afloat for a little while. Until he spends it all, at any rate.”

  She was silent for several long moments, taking in the import of this recent piece of news. “If you’ll excuse me, Alex. I find that I am no longer hungry.”

  He watched her leave, satisfied with his work that morning.

  * * *

  Charlotte hesitated only briefly outside her friend’s bedroom but decided she really couldn’t wait until Lucy woke on her own. She was losing hope and needed to talk to her. She rapped lightly on the door and let herself in. As she figured, Lucy hadn’t moved. She crossed the room and shook her shoulder lightly.

  “Lucy, wake up. I need to speak with you.”

  It took another shake before Lucy woke, her expression one of confusion as she blinked her eyes open in the dim room.

  “Charlotte? Why are you here? Did I oversleep?”

  “No, it’s only eight o’clock.”

  Lucy groaned and threw an arm over her eyes. “In the morning? What on earth are you doing here?”

  Charlotte waited while her friend heaved a heavy sigh and sat up. She felt a twinge of guilt as watched Lucy rub her eyes.

  “I’m sorry to wake you, but I need to speak with you.” She fell back on the bed, all her hard-won bravado slipping away from her in a rush. “I’m thinking of giving up and going home. I know Robert Turner wants to court me, and he really isn’t too bad. I should get to know him. Give him a chance.”

  Lucy looked at her as though she had grown horns. “What’s brought this on? I thought things were going well between you and Alex.”

  Charlotte laughed, the sound filled with bitterness. “Well? He has avoided me since that first night at Almack’s. And just now he wished me well on my upcoming marriage.”

  “You spoke to him today? And what upcoming marriage?”

  Charlotte grimaced and told Lucy about her disastrous breakfast with her brother.

  “He really doesn’t care. He showed not the faintest sign of jealousy when I told him about trying to gain Lord Haversham’s affections. After the waltz that first night… I must have fantasized his bad humor that night was due to jealousy. In all likelihood, he was annoyed at me for having to tolerate my company. This whole scheme is pointless. I should leave now while I still have my dignity.”

  Lucy shook her head. “I don’t believe Alex is immune to you.”

  Charlotte gazed at her levelly. “You’re only saying that because you don’t want to see the truth.”

  Lucy wrinkled her nose. “I am very good at reading Alex.”

  Charlotte looked away. “Well, even if there is a chance he isn’t indifferent to me, he’s shown no sign he wants to get to know me better, never mind actually start courting me.”

  Lucy reached out to pat her hand. “Trust me, Charlotte. My brother is as stubborn as they come, and he has a great aversion to all things having to do with the Season. He’s a duke, after all, and you wouldn’t believe some of the things women have done to gain his attention. He isn’t avoiding you. He’s avoiding the idea of marriage in general.”

  “You’re not making me feel any more hopeful.”

  Lucy tugged on her hand. Charlotte conceded and allowed her friend to pull her into a seating position. Lucy locked her gaze onto Charlotte’s.

  “Promise me, Charlotte, that you will not give up. Not just yet. We all stand to win with this. You will have the man you’ve loved for as long as I’ve known you, Alex will have someone who is far too good for him, and I will have you as a sister. Finally.”

  Charlotte couldn’t refuse. Or more accurately, she didn’t want to refuse. More than anything, she wanted Lucy to be right. She wanted Alex more than she could say. She’d been right to wake Lucy, knowing she would talk her out of any rash action.

  “I promise,” she said.

  Lucy smiled. “Good. Now, off with you. I have some more sleeping to catch up on. I will seek Alex out later. Don’t worry,” she said when she saw her concern, “I will be subtle. I’ll casually bump into him. We do live in the same house, after all, and he can’t hide forever. When he comes out of his s
tudy, I’ll drop a few comments about how wonderful Lord Haversham is and how well suited he is for you. I’m sure we’ll be able to spark that jealousy again. The only thing you need to worry about right now is making sure you look your absolute best tonight.”

  Chapter Three

  Charlotte examined herself critically in her dressing table mirror as her maid added the final touches to her hair. She knew the hairstyle was becoming. Her hair was piled high in a seemingly artless array of auburn curls, a few of which tumbled from the mass to curl around her face.

  Satisfied with the result, she dismissed her maid and reached for her face powder. It had become a habit to add a thick layer to her face to camouflage the hated freckles on her nose and cheeks. Tonight, however, she stilled, the small jar resting heavy in her hand, as she reconsidered the habit. Slowly, not sure she was making the correct choice, she placed the jar back on the dressing table and gazed, again, at her reflection.

  Alex had commented on her freckles that first evening, and since then she’d caught him looking at her nose. Was it possible he liked them? She scrunched her nose in disgust and almost changed her mind. Before she could do so, she stood and left the room.

  She rapped on her friend’s door and opened it when Lucy bade her enter.

  “You look beautiful,” Lucy exclaimed when she saw her. “I am so jealous of your hair.”

  Charlotte shook her head in disbelief. “My hair is the bane of my existence.”

  “It makes you stand out. Heads turn when you enter a room.”

  Charlotte refrained from pointing out that everyone turned to gawk at the too-tall woman with the unfashionably bright hair. She refused to allow doubt to hold her back. It was time for her to don her self-assured persona, and she would not be convincing if she allowed herself to dwell on her flaws.

  Lucy tilted her head to one side and examined her closely. Charlotte held her breath.

  “You didn’t cover your freckles.”

  She shrugged. “They are a part of me. Why hide them?”

  Even with Lucy, she was embarrassed to share her suspicion that Alex found them attractive. Of course, if Alex was hiding in his study or had gone out to his club, as he normally did, he would never have a chance to see them.

 

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