Page 17 of A Spinster for the Cold Duke

“Oh, not at all, Your Grace,” the Dowager replied smoothly. “Allow me to present Lady Joanna Godric, Marchioness of Knightley. Lady Knightley, the Duke of Marchwood and his daughter, Lady Celia.”

Joanna dipped into a graceful curtsy. “A pleasure, Your Grace. I’ve heard so much about you.”

The Duke’s gaze flicked briefly to Annabelle before returning to Joanna, and Annabelle sucked in a sharp breath at electricity that zapped up and down her spine because of that brief contact.

“All unfavorable, I presume,” he responded.

“On the contrary,” Joanna replied with a serene smile. “Any man who can provoke such passionate discourse from Miss Lytton must possess qualities of note.”

“Passionate discourse?” Lady Celia inquired, her lips turning into a wide grin. “Has Miss Lytton been speaking of us, then?”

“Your father has made quite an impression on the Athena Society,” Annabelle replied. “His views on female education are quite traditional.”

The Duke’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. “I merely believe that education should be appropriate to one’s station and future responsibilities.”

“And you believe women’s minds incapable of handling anything more substantial than flower arrangements and dance steps?” Annabelle challenged, feeling the air buzz around them with fiery energy.

“I believe,” he replied with dangerous softness, “that certain influences can lead impressionable young women to make decisions they later regret.”

Annabelle felt heat rise to her face, not merely from indignation, but from the disturbing awareness of his proximity. The way his gaze held hers with an intensity that seemed to bypass all social convention was unfathomable.

“Miss Lytton has been nothing but kind,” Celia chimed in. “She speaks to me as though my thoughts matter, rather than treating me like a child.”

“You speak as though I treat you as one would a mere puppet,” the Duke drawled, and his daughter bristled.

“Oh, no, Papa! I did not mean it like that!” Lady Celia was quick to say, her cheeks lightly pinkening as she grabbed onto his cuff.

“Oh, you did not? A man can be thoroughly fooled by you, then.”

Annabelle found herself floundering at his response. It was clear that the relationship between father and daughter was one built on the foundations of mutual respect and genuine interest. Still, she could not understand how he would turn around and hold her to such stifling standards.

“I believe,” Lady Oakley interjected smoothly, rising with practiced grace, “that it is time for Lady Celia’s lesson. The light in the yellow parlor is particularly favorable at this hour.”

And, although she did not want to admit it, Annabelle could feel the Duke’s gaze lingering on her for a moment longer than the propriety he loved to spout about dictated. When she glancedin his direction, it was to find something unreadable flickering in those stormy eyes--something that sent an unwelcome thrill racing down her spine.

“Indeed,” he agreed finally, turning his attention to the Dowager. “We mustn’t waste valuable instruction time.”

Annabelle’s heart was beating an entire drum rendition within the cage of her ribs.

As the party moved toward the house, she remained momentarily frozen, disturbed by her own reaction to the man.

Joanna leaned close. Her voice was barely above a whisper. “Good heavens, Annabelle. You might have mentioned that the Duke was so…”

“Insufferable?” Annabelle supplied automatically, her brain, heart and mouth all working on separate frequencies.

“I was going to say compelling,” Joanna replied with a knowing smile, and Annabelle instantly scoffed, rolling her eyes. “The air practically ignites when you two are within ten feet of each other.”

“Nonsense,” Annabelle muttered, though she could not quite meet her friend’s gaze. “That is merely because he provokes me, the blasted man.”

“Indeed,” Joanna agreed, her tone suggesting she understood far more than Annabelle cared to admit, even to herself. “Most thoroughly.”

Usually, Annabelle enjoyed seeing Joanna get that look in her eye, but now she could not appreciate it nearly as much, seeing as how her behavior, and that of the Duke’s, was her friend’s sole focus.

“Whatever you’re thinking,” she protested, “it is certainly not so.”

“But I did not say anything.” Joanna took her by the arm.

Soon, they were walking back to retake their seats at the table.

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