Page 10 of Denying a Rakish Duke
“You have the most stunning eyes that I have ever seen,” Joseph said without inflection, and it sounded like it was the first genuine thing that he had said to her all evening. No motivation; in fact, it seemed almost as if he regretted voicing the words out loud in the first place.
Vanessa certainly was not going to ease the awkwardness by saying she had just been thinking the exact same thing.
“I bet that you say that to all of the women you dance with.”
“I understand why you might think that, but it is true. That shade of blue is not one that I can even name a reference for … I have never seen the equal.” She hated that her heart lurched at his words.
“I suppose that is high praise indeed, given the number of women’s eyes that you have had occasion to peer into.”
Joseph laughed. His head actually tilted back with the force of it. “Your fire is most refreshing, Lady Vanessa. You seem to have your mind set regarding me, but I assure you that my intentions for your sister are mostly honorable.”
Vanessa’s eyes narrowed, and Joseph’s thumb brushed against the side of her hand. If he caught on to the fact that it made her nearly stammer, she would be mortified. Did he do such things on purpose? Was it perhaps something else? No, of course not, it must be accidental.
“My sister deserves the very best. She is very dear to me, and I will protect her fiercely. I will not abide by anybody who intends to mistreat her. I have read all about your mistresses and the sort of company that you keep. Clearly, you do not need her. Your time is already stretched enough.” Feeling brave, Vanessa continued, “Tell me, am I to be your final dance for the evening before you retire to one of your many mistresses? How long of an appearance did you tell yourself that you would put in? I will not be offended in the slightest should you choose to cut our dance short, Your Grace.”
“You are not the only person who has heard rumors, Lady Vanessa. You cannot cast stones in my direction without properly taking culpability for your own family. Or, perhaps, are you about to contest my accusation with the argument that rumors are not always true?” Joseph’s brow raised at the end of his little speech, and she knew that for the third time— he had won.
“My youngest sister is not like the rest of us, Your Grace. She has a pure heart. She is kind, warm, and chaste. She does not need to be victimized by a rake like yourself.”
Joseph moved Vanessa into the ending pose for the dance and held her there. In spite of himself, his gaze dropped to Vanessa’s berry-colored lips. “Your sister wouldbegto keep me in her bed, should I desire it.”
Vanessa’s pulse quickened. Her muscles ached at holding the position for a full beat longer than all of the couples around them. Joseph did not set her to rights until the very last possible second. He took a step backward and started to applaud the musicians for their wonderful playing, and Vanessa was obliged to join in. “You will come nowhere near my sister. I will make sure of it,” she warned as the pair bowed to one another.
“I will have her hand, Lady Vanessa, no matter what your feelings are on the matter.”
Vanessa’s nose scrunched in outrage. Her face pinched in irritation. Her fists closed around the fabric of her skirts, gathering it enough in her hands just to be out of the way so that she could force that arrogant smirk off of the Duke’s face. She did the only thing that she could think of— she stomped her slippered foot down on the top of his with all of the force and anger that she could muster.
ChapterSeven
“Vanessa, what have you done!” Petunia hissed at her daughter as she brushed roughly past her. She could feel her temper spiking in her chest, burning a fire through her that she did not know how to contain. She could not tell her mother what the Duke had said. She did not know if Petunia would even believe her should she put the words out of her lips.
“Not now, Mama,” was Vanessa’s only reply. She could not unclench her jaw. She could not stop or slow down. Her athletic frame was smaller than her mother’s, and she could weave through the people more easily. She could feel the silent question written on each face that she passed, and she refused to look at a single one of them. She could not believe that she had done it either. She had just wanted him to stop talking. She wanted him to take it back— she needed to win. Just once, she had needed him tohearher.
Petunia attempted to grab at her daughter’s arm to stop her path, but Vanessa yanked her arm from the attempted hold and continued until her mother was no longer able to follow her movements. She could not leave Amanda alone for that length of time anyway. Vanessa just needed a moment, a single moment to herself so that she might calm herself.
Around her, people probably still socialized and drank. Vanessa refused to look at those gossiping about the scandalous thing that they thought they witnessed. She would not be able to walk on her two feet if she faced the fact that they were speaking about her. The music continued on. The room felt that it was growing smaller with each passing moment, but she knew that, in reality, it was only her that was affected in this way. Perhaps those who had seen it would think that it was her final act of condemnation before she was forced into spinsterhood.
It was so unusual for something to get under her skin like that. She had allowed herself to become so flustered with the Duke that she had momentarily lost control of her sense of propriety. Doing what she did could have terrible repercussions. She could have just ruined everything for her sister. She had no idea how many people might have seen her attack the Duke.
She did not know where she was going. She could not pay attention to her surroundings as she walked. One foot in front of the other, and her brain started to retreat inside of itself as she moved. She pulled her long satin gloves from her arms as she walked. She felt constricted, confined by the fit of her dress, by the way her hands and arms were covered— she felt stifled, and she could not stop moving.
She turned left into an open door— and found herself in a conservatory with glass windows on the final three sides. Tall metal frames sloped upward and fit with a slightly green-tinted glass all of the way to the top where a brightly colored circle of glass filtered and refracted the light prettily. A section of netting cordoned off the chirping birds overhead, and the smell of leafy plants and freshly potted soil overwhelmed her in the best of possible ways.
Vanessa bent forward, her gloves balled into a fist as she placed her hands on her knees and struggled to steady her breathing— only to be startled by footsteps directly behind her. She spun so quickly that she nearly fell over, stepped on the hem of her dress, and tried to steady herself, but the Duke caught her by the elbow.
Her eyes widened in shock and fear. Not only because they were alone, but because she was alone with the man whom she attacked only moments ago. Had people seen him leave the room after her? People would talk. This was exactly the sort of thing that her family did not need. She was not the cause of any scandal, nor did she wish to be. She only wished to find the best possible husband for her sister, and yet, here she was, ruining everything.
It occurred to her then that she could be in danger. She did not know anything about the Duke, not really, and he could be here to get even with her. It did not matter in the slightest if he had wholly deserved what she had done.
“Leave me be!” Vanessa backed up further into the room, her hand lifted to keep distance between them. However, it was abundantly obvious that he had no intentions of doing so, and he did not let go of her elbow as he walked further into the room with her.
“This is my home, I will remind you, and you cannot tell me where to go inside of my own home. Even more so when you are trespassing in a room not intended for guests.”
“Unhand me at once!” Vanessa protested, her breath coming in quick bursts.
“You attacked me,” Joseph said softly, a tint of amusement playing on his lips. It was the ghost of mirth, but she did not trust it.
“You were speaking about my sister! The things that you said!” She gasped in her own defense.
