Page 24 of Five Ways to Bed a Duke

Richard knew he should have left at that moment, but for some unfathomable reason, he found himself following them to the ballroom. It seemed that there was an invisible string that tethered him to Catherine, causing him to move in her direction without conscious thought.

It was mortifying, but he held on to the excuse of watching his sister dance. He was only being a supportive brother, and he was so going to ignore the tiny voice in his head that called him a liar.He was going to deny it for as long as he could because there was no reality in which he developed feelings or an attachment to a stuffy young woman who also happened to be a bluestocking. It was unacceptable that this lady also managed to draw his attention much easier than an entire circus.

He was fast becoming obsessed with her, and he knew he had to do something about it.

When they arrived at the ballroom, Catherine started teaching Emmy the basics of court dance, and he was quite impressed by the simplicity of her language and demonstrations. Emmy was nodding enthusiastically to show she understood, but the way her eyes darted around proved that she understood nothing. That fact became evident when they stood up to dance, with Catherine taking up the lead.

Catherine was remarkably calm and stopped, making sure to explain the steps again, but it was to no avail. Richard was feeling sorry for her toes because it seemed that his ungraceful sister had managed to step on them with each movement.

When they stopped the second time, Richard could not ignore the urge to tease his sister as he noticed the look of frustration on her face.

“It seemed that someone has had the misfortune of being blessed with two left feet. It is a miracle that you didn’t throw Cathy over with your exceptional dancing skills,” he said, his lips curling into a smirk that was sure to annoy her.

Predictably, her scowl deepened. “I would wager that I was a much better dancer than you were at my age.”

“No, my darling,” he drawled. “I have always been a good dancer because I always attended my dance classes. Unlike you, who ran away to play in the garden whenever the dance master showed up.”

“No, that is not true. Alvey told me a story of you almost tripping your dance partner during one of the balls you attended,” she said, a triumphant smile on her face.

“I am sorry to disappoint you, princess, but that was pure fiction. Alvey only made that story up to console you when he realized you couldn’t dance,” he replied mockingly.

An unholy delight filled his being as he watched her triumphant smile turn into a dark scowl.

She opened her mouth to retort but was interrupted by Catherine.

“That’s enough, both of you. Your Grace, I am surprised you would argue like a child,” she scolded.

But Richard didn’t feel any remorse at all. For some reason, the disapproving look on Catherine’s face made her more attractive to him. If he needed any other proof that he was addled, that thought just confirmed it.

“You could help Emmy, since you seem to have a wealth of knowledge,” Catherine added.

“How do you suppose I do that? I can hardly break her head to force such knowledge into it.”

At that statement, his sister shot him a withering look that only made him laugh harder.

“You could dance with me,” Catherine suggested.

At that, Richard fell silent. While he would love nothing more than to be close to her, he also recognized the danger that such proximity presented to his self-control.

“Afraid, aren’t we?” Catherine taunted, noticing his hesitation.

It was quite unfortunate, but Richard had never been able to refuse a challenge, and he was not going to give her the satisfaction of thinking that she intimidated him on the dance floor.

Pushing off the wall, he made his way towards her, and when he stopped before her, he saw her eyes flash with awareness.

No matter how she pretended, it was obvious that she was affected by his proximity, and it soothed some part of him to know that he was not the only one suffering from the madness that seemed to consume him.

He executed a deep bow and offered her his hand, which she accepted. Then he placed one hand on her waist while she rested her other hand on his shoulder. He took a deep breath to brace himself and then began dancing.

With every whirl, he was becoming so intoxicated with her scent that he unconsciously leaned in, drawing her closer to breathe her in.

Unfortunately, his partner did not anticipate that move, and she tripped over his foot, catching herself at the last minute by holding on to his shoulders.

“I think you are the one with the two left feet, and you are holding me too closely,” she said in an angry tone, her color high and her chest heaving with exertion.

“I held you to prevent you from falling,” he returned hotly.

“I never asked you to rescue me—I can do that myself,” she scoffed.

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