Page 47 of His Enemy Duchess

He blinked fast in response and hurried to press his lips into something more appropriate.

This has never happened before. What on earth is she doing to me?

“No, why did you stop!” she protested quietly. “That was the point.”

“Sophia, are you well?” he asked in a clipped tone. “A dance floor is for sensible conversation, not the most terrible jokes I have ever had the misfortune to hear.”

She groaned at his words. “We are supposed to look like a happy couple, are we not? Have fun? Isn’t that what Pietro told us? If we can’t be happy in reality, we can just tell silly jokes to each other that will make us laugh.”

“That’syour idea? It’s almost as awful as your jokes.”

She arched a pointed eyebrow. “You can’t say that, because itdidwork. You actually smiled there for a second. I haven’t seen you do that once, from your proposal to a few moments ago—smirks and suggestions of smiles, yes, but never a genuine smile like that.”

Thomas paused for a while, hating to think of the possibility that she might be right.

“Nonetheless, it’s improper to tell jokes during a dance,” he scoffed.

“Why? Who’s going to notice?” she scoffed back.

“Now that, that was a proper joke,” he said, readjusting his posture as they moved smoothly into another promenade, their arms in a perfect figure of eight. “They all notice. They all care. Just because your family doesn’t give a fig about Society’s rules, doesn’t mean everyone else is the same.”

Sophia squinted at him, her thoughts a mystery to him.

“You know that if you weren’t forced into this marriage of convenience, you’d have remained a spinster, correct?” he continued.

“That was the plan, yes,” she said, sounding bluntly honest.

Thomas frowned, too curious not to enquire. “You wouldn’t have minded remaining companionless for the rest of your life?”

“Friends and family are all the companions a woman truly needs. Besides, I’d rather be a spinster than pretend to be someone I am not,” she said while they kept dancing around each other, sweeping into another whirling bout of spins. “Isn’t that what you also value? Staying true to one’s self.”

Thomas almost missed a step, covering it quickly so neither Sophia nor the crowd would notice.

Time and time again, they found themselves agreeing where they should have been at odds, and it continued to disarm him, making him think things that he should not.

If we had met any other way… if you didn’t carry the Kendall surname… if we had chosen this of our own volition…

“But some good comes from changing a little,” she observed, pulling him out of his thoughts. “Being able to dance is better than I thought it would be, though I wouldn’t choose the rough awakening or the awful drink Pietro gave me.”

Thomas considered her words as the tune and the waltz wound down to their all-too-soon end.Wassomethingchanging a little bit between them? She certainly showed no hatred when she was in the throes of passion, but perhaps that wasn’t an accurate gauge. He had heard from plenty of friends that a couple didn’t have to even like one another to enjoy pleasurable acts. In fact, that anger could make it all the more thrilling.

I can’t tell…

It frustrated him—he always had the answers, and now he had none.

He turned Sophia out for one last spin, to put her in her ending position. She dipped into an elegant curtsey, and he bowed at the waist. As they stood back to their usual height, the crowd suddenly erupted in applause, so loud that it seemed to startle Sophia.

She blushed and smiled, and as Thomas came back to her side to return her to her parents, she leaned into him, resting a possessive hand on his chest. Just as Pietro warned, many people were swooning or fanning themselves, their reactions not at all what Thomas had anticipated.

Either it worked or they are pretending… or something haschanged between us.

He didn’t know which explanation unnerved him more.

CHAPTER 17

“What of the arrangements regarding the Summertons? Are they still expressing doubts?” Thomas signed one last document as he finished his question, throwing a side glance at Gregory, who sat opposite, oblivious to what had taken place on the desk where he rested his elbows.

“No, a letter arrived this morning with a statement.”

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