At the Duke’s Pleasure (15 page)

While he stood waiting, a few people were brave enough to make whispered asides. But for the most part no one in his vicinity said a word, nor was anyone daring enough to meet his gaze. Not that he was looking, his eyes directed toward the line of dancers, and two individuals in particular.

Finally, the music ceased, the set done.

Gentlemen and ladies broke into pairs, including Gresham and Mallory, who had been dancing as well and now glanced his way. They started toward him, but he gave a nearly imperceptible shake of his head that stopped them both. Apparently understanding his wish to handle the situation on his own, Adam nodded and took Mallory’s arm to lead her away, which she agreed to with a little frown of worry on her forehead.

Meanwhile, Islington offered his arm to Claire. As he did, Edward strode forward, his patience officially at an end. He met Claire and Islington at the halfway point, forcing them to halt as he stopped directly in their path. He didn’t spare Islington so much as a glance.

“I have come to see you into supper,” he said, giving Claire a deliberate smile. “Let us go and procure a comfortable seat.” He extended his arm for her to take.

Claire, however, made no effort to accept. “I’m sorry, but I am afraid I must decline.”

For a moment, he thought he hadn’t heard her correctly. “What?”

“I didn’t realize you planned to take me into supper tonight, so I accepted Lord Islington’s invitation. The dance that just concluded was the supper dance, in case you were unaware.”

Actually, he hadn’t been aware, but it hardly mattered what dance it was. She wasn’t eating supper with Islington!

He ground his teeth together. “Yes, well, there’s obviously been a misunderstanding. I’m sure Islington here won’t mind if you have supper with me, seeing that I am your fiancé.”

And that
, he thought,
was that.

Before Islington could comment, Claire stepped in again. “That may be true, Edward, but I did give my promise and I don’t feel right breaking it. I’m sure you’ll find another very pleasant lady who will be only too happy to join you for the midnight buffet. As for me, I am promised to Lord Islington tonight.”

Edward felt his eyes strain inside their sockets, ire pumping through his bloodstream. The sensation only increased when he caught sight of the smirk on Islington’s face. His hands clenched at his sides, muscle and bone aching for the chance to land a punch that would wipe the smug look off the other man’s face.

“Claire,” he said on a low rumble, “I don’t think you fully understand what is involved here—”

“And I don’t think you are aware, Your Grace, that we are starting to attract attention with our tête-à-tête. Now, I am dining with his lordship and that is the end of the discussion. I shall see you later on this evening.”

“
Claire
—” he warned.

“Oh, Edward, don’t be such a grouchy Gus.”

Grouchy Gus!

“Come, your lordship,” she said, tightening her grip on Islington’s arm. “If we do not move along, all the good seats will be taken.”

“Far be it from me to deny pleasure to a lady,” Islington said.

Edward stood as though riveted in place, astonished all the way to his depths. He couldn’t believe she had outmaneuvered him, and so adroitly too. But she was right that everyone was watching, ears strained to catch each possible word. She’d truly backed him into a corner, since short of physically separating her from Islington, there was nothing he could do to stop her.

For a second, he actually considered yanking her away from the other man—scandal be damned. But he stopped himself. Claire and Islington were going into the supper room where they would be surrounded by dozens of other guests. Edward would be there as well, and he would make certain he found a seat with an excellent and unobstructed view. Nothing would happen that he didn’t know about, and once supper concluded, so would Claire’s association with Islington.

“G
ood heavens, what do you think you’re doing?” Mallory whispered as she perched on a dining room chair next to Claire. “I thought I told you to stay away from Lord Islington.”

As for Islington, once he’d located a table for himself and Claire, he’d made his excuses and left to procure selections from the buffet spread out in glorious excess across the room. The moment he’d departed, Mallory had hurried over and dropped down into his empty seat.

Claire sent her friend a look of deliberate unconcern. “I know you did, but then I met him and he asked me to dance. I couldn’t very well refuse.”

“Of course you could. You ought to have given him the cut direct and refused to speak with him at all.”

“Why? Despite your admonitions, he seems an amiable sort of person, quite intelligent and interesting. I can’t understand what’s so very dreadful about him. You said yourself you don’t even know what it is he is supposed to have done wrong.”

“No,” Mallory agreed, her expression troubled. “But Edward wouldn’t have warned me off without good cause.” Pausing, she cast a glance toward her brother where he sat at a table a few yards distant. “By the way, Ned looks positively glacial. I really don’t think it was wise to have insisted on supper with Islington.”

Claire gave a derisive sniff. “Then he ought to have thought to ask me to share supper with him before the supper dance was concluded.”

Mallory gave her a thoughtful look. “Is that what this is about? Teaching Ned a lesson?”

“In a manner of speaking. Look now, Lord Islington appears to be returning, so if you don’t want to make conversation with him, you’d best run along. I’m sure Lord Gresham is wondering where you are anyway.”

“Oh, he knows.” Mallory shot her a smile. “Just be careful, all right?”

“It’s not as if Islington’s going to murder me here in front of everyone.”

“No, but from the expression on Ned’s face, my brother might do the job for him.”

“Very funny,” Claire replied with a sarcastic smile. Mallory grinned, then hurried away.

Lord Islington arrived a few moments later, two laden plates in hand. He set one in front of her before doing so for himself, then taking a seat. “Still here, then? I couldn’t help but notice Lady Malloy talking with you and figured she would have led you away by now.”

“Of course I am still here. I have agreed to share supper with you, and share supper I shall.”

“Even if it lands you in a tub of very hot water?”

She paused, trying her best to ignore Edward where he sat gazing—or should she say
glaring
—at her from across the room, the lady he had ended up escorting in to supper chatting aimlessly at his side.

“Yes, even then,” she told him in a low voice. “I may be small, blond and female, but you will find I have a will of iron when my mind is set upon a particular path.”

He arched a tawny brow. “That I can well believe. I must warn you, however, that this path of yours may have unintended consequences. Clybourne isn’t the sort to be trifled with.”

She sent him a haughty look. “Neither, my lord, am I.”

Surprise lit his face, then he laughed, a hearty outburst that drew an even greater number of gazes. “You’re going to make a fine duchess, Lady Claire.”

I certainly hope not
, she thought, wondering just how far she was going to have to take this battle of wills between her and Edward. But he’d brought this on himself by insisting on their engagement when she had asked to be released from it from the very start. Regardless of the repercussions, she wasn’t backing down, even if it meant dancing, flirting and sharing a meal with a man of questionable character.

“Well then, my lord,” she said in a carefree tone as she regarded her plate. “What delicacies have you brought me? Lobster patties, I hope, since they are my favorite.”

“I believe there are one or two hidden among the rest,” he said with an indulgent chuckle. “And I understand ices are to be served later.”

“Ices! Then I’m in heaven already.”

Hell and damnation!
Edward thought over an hour later as he strode into the ballroom in search of Claire.

He’d assumed it would be a simple matter to retrieve Claire once supper was concluded. But somehow, without quite knowing how she managed, he’d ended up watching her sail out of the dining room on Islington’s arm before he had a chance to reach them. And with his own dinner partner to be seen to, far more time had passed than he liked before he was free to resume the pursuit.

A new set was already forming inside the ballroom when he entered, people arranging themselves in couples on the dance floor, while the quartet of musicians played a few rounds of practice notes.

Scanning the assembled guests, he looked for Claire. By now, he expected to find her either in the company of Cousin Wilhelmina or with Mallory or another of her female friends. But in spite of locating his cousin and his sister, he couldn’t find Claire.

Then the new set began, music filling the room with a lively harmony. As it did, he heard the rumble of hushed murmurs and felt the power of pointed stares, directed both at him and toward the dance floor. Only then did he catch sight of Claire’s lovely blond head and with her a tall, tawny-haired one that made his mouth drop open.

Claire was dancing with Islington again.

For the third time!

Without further consideration, Edward stalked across the room.

For Hades’ sake, what is she thinking?
He might be able to excuse her earlier dances with Islington as a case of ignorance, but this was another matter entirely. Every girl of good breeding knew that standing up for more than two dances with any one gentleman in a single evening was tantamount to announcing her engagement to that gentleman.

Obviously she’s lost her mind, considering she’s already engaged to me!

Marching along the line of dancers until he located the guilty couple, he stopped and reached out with a hard hand to tap Islington on the shoulder. “This dance is mine,” he stated in an implacable growl.

Islington and Claire both shot him looks—Islington’s one of amusement while Claire’s appeared startled yet oddly defiant.

“Edward,” she exclaimed.

“Not a word from you,” he ground out.

Without waiting for further assent, Edward removed Claire’s hand from Islington’s and secured it inside his own. For Islington’s part, he stepped aside, clearly aware that he’d just been officially dismissed.

Edward swung Claire into the steps of the dance as though they had been partnered the entire time. One minute passed, then two, the music playing as their feet traveled across the floor.

“Have you nothing to say?” he asked as the dance brought them together.

“As I recall, you told me not to speak.”

And so I did
, he realized, a heavy frown creasing his forehead. His gaze narrowed. “You haven’t paid attention to anything else I’ve told you to do tonight, so I presumed that remark would have no more effect than any of the rest.”

Her blue eyes flashed as the movements of the dance drew them apart.

He didn’t attempt to engage her in conversation again for the rest of the set. There seemed little use, considering the fact that everything he had to say needed to be said in private. And so he danced for what seemed an endless span of time until, finally, the musicians played their last notes and the couples around them came to a final halt.

The instant the dance ended, Edward caught Claire’s hand tightly inside his own. Past caring what anyone else might think, he drew her along next to him, compelling her to keep pace as he strode toward the French doors that led to the garden beyond.

Into the night they went, cool air surrounding them, the noise of the ballroom fading to a dull hum. Onward he proceeded, tugging her with him until even the hum was gone, leaving only the sound of their dress shoes beating against the terrace flagstones and the sibilant respiration of Claire’s breath as she hurried to keep up.

Finally, he stopped, not far from one of the garden lanterns that emitted a mellow golden glow. For a moment, he fought to steady his temper. The effort, however, proved worthless. “Just what in the blazes was all that about?” he demanded, low and harsh.

Pulling away, she crossed her arms over her chest. “I will thank you not to curse at me, Your Grace.”

“That wasn’t cursing. Asking you what in the
bloody blazes
you thought you were doing, now that is cursing.”

She sent him a reproving stare.

“Well?” he pressed when she gave no further response.

“I believe it is called dancing,” she said. “Or rather a cotillion, if you wish to be specific.”

A muscle flexed in his jaw. “Don’t trifle with me, since you know precisely what I mean. What were you doing dancing with Islington again?”

With a slight shrug, she lowered her gaze. “He asked and I agreed.”

“Even though it was the third dance?”

Her pale eyebrows arched high in feigned innocence. “Was it? I must have lost count.”

He wrapped his hand around her arm and gave her a harmless shake. “You didn’t lose count and neither did anyone else in that ballroom. Everyone is talking and they’ll be doing little else for days to come. By morning, the Society columns will be full of tonight’s escapade, not to mention that it’ll be on the tongues of every tattlemonger in London. I know Islington doesn’t give a fig about his reputation, since his is already painted as black as tar. But what about you, Claire? Have you no concern for yourself and what this may do to you?”

“Don’t you mean what it will do to
your
reputation, Your Grace? I suspect you are far more outraged over how my behavior will reflect upon you and your honor than about any possible damage to me. After all, your primary concern must always be to the Byron name and your title as the Duke of Clybourne, is that not so?”

He grew abruptly still, a deeper hush falling over the already quiet night. “Is that what you believe?” His tone was hauntingly soft.

“Of course. As for me, I care little for the opinions of strangers. My true friends shall always like me in spite of a…bit of talk.”

“That is a noble sentiment indeed. However, as I recall, you once told me you dislike being the focus of speculation, and nothing brings on speculation quite so forcefully as flouting Society’s rules.”

She drew a steadying breath. “Sometimes rules must be broken and sacrifices made in order to achieve one’s aims.”

What is she on about?
he wondered, puzzling over her bold statement. Was there more to her dancing and dining with Islington tonight than careless abandon and a bit of youthful rebellion? He’d been incensed to think that she might be attracted to Islington, even casually. But now he wondered if there was something else at work.

Taking hold of her other arm, he forced her to retreat a few steps until her back was nearly touching the smooth, cool stone façade of the town house. “What game are you playing, Claire? What is it you want?”

When she said nothing, he pressed her further, as a new thought occurred. “You aren’t deliberately courting scandal, are you?” Gazing into her eyes, he read the truth. “By God, you are! To what end?”

Beneath his hands, he felt a fine tremor chase over her skin, yet her expression remained defiant. “For my own ends and it’s no game,” she said. “I told you from the outset that I do not wish to be wed and I have not changed my mind. You ought to have listened to me rather than insisting on this engagement.”

Edward felt his eyes widen. “Good Lord! I knew you hoped to dissuade me at first, but I thought you’d accepted the inevitability of our union. I see now that you have not. So your plan is to, what, anger and embarrass me to the point where I’ll decide to call off the wedding?”

She angled her chin at a proud tilt. “If that is what it takes.”

He stared for several long seconds and then he began to laugh.

Her mouth tightened, then trembled, her blue eyes glittering as though lit by a fire. “Why are you laughing?”

“Because you obviously don’t know me very well if you think such tactics are going to dissuade me. My siblings embarrass me with regular frequency and in spite of what you may believe about the supposed dignity of my family, we Byrons spend our lives stirring up one pot of scandal broth after another.”

He paused, chuckling wryly. “You’ve nothing on them, in fact. Jack nearly fled to Italy three years ago for dueling in Green Park. He’d been caught in bed with an earl’s wife, you see, and the earl didn’t much like it. Then two Seasons ago, Cade tried to choke a nobleman to death in the middle of a ball.”

Her lips parted. “He
what
?”

“Of course, the man was a traitor, which Cade knew, but Society cared nothing for the truth at the time.”

“Good heavens.”

“Precisely. So you see the futility of your plan?”

She stiffened beneath his hands. “You speak of futility and inevitability, but I see nothing of the sort. And if you are so inured to scandal, then why are you upset tonight? What does it matter to you how many times I dance with someone else, if you aren’t concerned about your reputation?”

His humor fell away. “Not someone else. Islington. He’s a cad and you are to stay away from him.”

“And if I don’t? I’m not a child, you know. I may do as I please.”

“No, you’re not a child, at least not chronologically. But you’re acting like one with these silly games of yours. They’re not going to work, so you might as well give up.”

“That’s what you’d like, wouldn’t you? If you knew
me
better, though, you’d realize I’m not a quitter.”

“Shall I rename you
Doña
Quixote, then, since you apparently enjoy tilting at windmills?”

“Very droll, Your Grace, but since we’re being so forthright this evening, I might as well warn you that this isn’t over. Unless you care to release me from our engagement, that is?”