Page 28 of The Heiress Gets a Duke
“As I see it, Miss Crenshaw”—his voice was husky and deep when he finally spoke—“I have only two options before me and must make a choice.”
As she waited for him to elaborate, the waltz came to an end. Always the gentleman, he bowed to her and placed her hand on his arm as he walked her back to her family. The crowd parted as it had before, only this time she noted that everyone they passed seemed to be watching them both, and whispers followed behind them. Perhaps they had been too obvious in their sparring. She probably shouldn’t have stared at his mouth the way she had. People would have noticed. People seemed to notice everything about him, which undoubtedly extended to the shadow he cast.
Her mother and Violet stood watching them with silent eyes at the edge of the dance floor. She tried to signal that Violet should leave so that Rothschild would have no opportunity to ask her to dance, but all too soon he was greeting both of them in turn. Her mother smiled and returned the greeting, while Violet seemed a bit stunned. Her mouth fell open slightly, and her gaze kept going back and forth between them.
Finally, he turned to August and brought her hand to his lips. “Thank you for the dance, Miss Crenshaw. If you will excuse me.”
He was the embodiment of decorum as he inclined his head to both her mother and sister before taking his leave. He walked away as if nothing of note had happened on the dance floor. Had anything happened? Maybe not for him. Was she alone in this strange need to see things settled between them? Why wasn’t he asking to claim the next dance with Violet?
It was unseemly, but she couldn’t stop herself from calling him back. “Wait.”
He paused and turned, and every eye in the vicinity seemed to turn with him. Aware of their intense interest, she kept her voice light. “You mentioned options. What are they?”
He grinned, the wolf back to play with its prey. “It hardly matters. I have made my choice.” Turning, he made his way through the crowd. It was easy to follow his progress as the people shuffled like waves in his wake.
“August?” Violet’s voice seemed to come from far away as August tried to regain her equilibrium. She felt as if she had just returned to herself from an odd dream.
“Miss Crenshaw?” Lady Helena moved in front of her, fixing her with an urgent stare.
“Yes?” August looked back and forth between them, and then became aware of the rising murmurs around them. She had expected the attention to follow Rothschild, but it seemed that at least some of it had stayed with her. “What is happening?” she whispered.
“Oh, my dear.” Lady Helena shook her head and glancedto the large open doorway where Rothschild had disappeared. “The duke never comes to these balls. He never dances with anyone, especially single women.”
“Yes, I know, we discussed this. He was coming to dance with Violet, to establish his interest.” She was a little annoyed that they had to go through this again.
“He did not dance with Violet, though, did he?” Her brows rose as if August should be able to formulate the rest.
August looked to Violet, who was staring at her as if she had sprouted another head. Mother gasped and covered her mouth to hide the unladylike sound.
“No, he danced with me because I told him Violet wasn’t here.”
“That’s right,” said Lady Helena. “He danced withyou.”
August nodded, growing impatient when it really was her own fault for not explaining. “You misunderstand. I asked him to not make his intentions known to Violet until we could talk about things.”
“What did he say?” Violet asked.
“Well... I’m not sure.” Already everything about that conversation was blending together. He had answered questions without really answering them at all. What did it mean that he had two options and he had made his choice?
Had he chosenher? The knowing look on Lady Helena’s face seemed to suggest as much. August’s heart sped up, and her lungs seemed to shrink. “Do you think...?”
No!It wasn’t possible.
But Lady Helena was nodding. “He chose you, dear.”
Everything inside her screamed that it wasn’t true. That he hadn’t meant to choose her. That he’d only danced with her out of courtesy because Violet wasn’t available. But none of that explained why he had only offered the mildest greeting to her sister.
The room had become stifling and the air too thick. August took in a breath, but it did nothing to stop the spinning of the room. “Excuse me.”
“You poor thing,” said Lady Helena as she clucked her tongue softly. “Shall we go to the dressing room?”
August nodded but waved both her and Violet off whenthey moved to come with her. “Please... I need a few minutes alone.” What she actually needed was to find Rothschild and make certain Lady Helena was mistaken. He had only not asked Violet to dance because August had requested it.
“That’s fine. We’ll be along in a little while,” Violet said as she watched her with worried eyes.
The crowd had filled back in the swath he had cut through them, making the journey to the entrance slow and tedious. Everyone paused to watch her as she passed, the weight of their gazes seeming to make the trip even longer. She cursed them, but she cursed him more. If there were any justice in the world, Rothschild would find his carriage caught up in the snarl of traffic outside and still be waiting. If she was lucky, she would be able to catch a moment alone with him.
Her heels echoed off the oak floors between the Persian carpets as with each step toward the front stairs she rediscovered the anger that vanished when he had held her. Losing her head to him wasn’t a mistake she would allow herself to repeat. She would find him and give him a taste of that anger. How dare he presume to single her out? How dare he presume that she would accept this betrothal? If that’s even what he had meant.
