Page 6 of Duke of Destruction
There was something about this duke that made her want to snap back. The impulse, which had been buried so long ago that she hadn’t realized she could even still feel it, surprised her.
She wouldn’tdoit, of course. She was here for Ariadne. For her family. It was the reason she did everything.
But she wanted to. And, Lord above, it would beeasy. In her time on the social circuit, she’d made a thousand allies, people who found her charming enough, pretty enough, interesting enough—but not too charming or too pretty or too interesting. Even now, she could see a matron nearby listening in. She was shooting Catherine faintly sympathetic looks. Catherine could seize upon that advantage and crush the Duke of Seaton beneath the weight of his own scorn.
But something about the combative look in his eye said he wanted her to do just that. And she simply would not give him the satisfaction.
So instead, she let out a charmed little laugh, like he was being witty instead of unkind. His gaze flared with irritation.
Oh, the Duke of Seaton would have to playmuchharder if he wanted to play with her. If his annoyance was palpable, her delight at irking him was completely invisible.
“How right you are, Your Grace,” she said, giving her head a winsome shake. “Though I’m sure our host has chosen only the best people to invite.”
She smiled at the Duke of Wilds, who looked like he couldn’t decide if he was amused or irked. As he did not look irked at Catherine, she decided to worry about it later, mostly because the Duke of Seaton looked positively irate.
“I suppose we shall see,” he said, disdain dripping from his tone.
She smiled even more broadly.
It was going to be a long, long party.
CHAPTER 2
“Ari, darling, don’t pick at your nails,” Catherine chided gently. “They’ll bleed.”
Ariadne, seated at her vanity while her maid put the finishing touches on her coiffure, clenched her fists tight and glared at them like they’d betrayed her.
“Right,” she muttered offhandedly. “Sorry.”
“You needn’t be sorry,” Catherine said from where she perched on the armchair in Ari’s bedchamber. Her one toilette was finished. She and Ari had brought a single maid to share between them—they might each have their own ladies’ maids at home, but Catherine had thought it excessive to drag two members of their own staff along on the trip.
Besides, her own maid, Gilda, had nieces and nephews that she was thrilled to see for an extended trip while Catherine wasgone, while Ariadne’s young maid, Polly, was thrilled to get to see more of the countryside.
“I packed your salve, Lady Ariadne,” Polly said quietly, pinning one last lock before pulling a small tin of floral-scented hand salve out of a drawer and handing it to Ari. She returned to pinning curls in place while Ariadne took out a dollop of the cream and rubbed it sheepishly into her hands.
“It’s fine to be nervous,” Catherine told her sister, fidgeting the tiniest bit to get a more comfortable seat without mussing her gown.
“I’m not nervous,” Ariadne said reflexively, as Catherine had known she would. “But it’s just drinks and dinner tonight, right?”
Catherine hid her smile. Ariadne hated admitting to her nerves.
“Right,” she agreed. “It should be easy enough to get through. Nobody will want to extend the evening too much, not after a day of traveling.”
Ariadne looked reassured by this. But Catherine, as it turned out, was extremely incorrect about her prediction for the night.
It was not easy to get through.
And it feltendless.
Catherine started to feel restless before they even got to dinner, less than an hour into the round of socializing and sipping champagne on the large veranda that opened into a beautiful autumn evening. The breeze was crisp and pleasant, the champagne was an excellent vintage, and the company was pleasant.
Or, well,mostof the company was pleasant.
The Duke of Seaton didn’t say much. Indeed, he didn’t say anything directly to Catherine at all. But he made his presence known.
He stood in the corner and stared at her.
And stared.
