Page 35 of Her Wicked Duke
Chapter Eleven
Alexander Dunst thought that he was a fool, but he did not wish to admit it.
He had needed to decline Anne’s offer even though all he wished to do was wrap his arm around her waist, entwine their fingers, and spin her around the dancefloor. It was an excuse to be close to her, to show the other men that he could have the most beautiful woman in the room.
He wanted to claim Anne as his own, lest he go through this torture of watching her dance with other men the whole Season. How much longer could he hold himself back?
I have been distant. I have kept her guessing, waiting for me to make a move.
He had not intended to make her wait so long that she would ask him to dance instead.
Now, he wished he could go back and tell her that he wanted nothing more than to dance with her, but she had already been swept up in the arms of another man he recognized. He turned his back to the dancefloor and downed his champagne glass, then reached for another before turning back to face the room. As he did, he observed the gentlemen around the dancefloor.
It was hard to narrow down the suspects. Anne was beautiful, and many men were staring at those who were lucky enough to dance with her with envy. She did not accept every offer, as if holding herself on a prestigious platform above others, as if some were beneath her.
The dreadful Earl of Satton watched on as if he wished to dance with her again. Several older men looked on, but their gazes did not linger. Mary and Patrick were among the dancers, and Patrick looked at Anne whenever his wife did. Then, there was the Earl of Marston, whom Alexander knew harbored affection for Anne’s friend, so he disregarded him.
So many men, so many possibilities. He surveyed the expressions of those who were watching Anne. Who looked upset at being shunned. But then, he looked at those whom Anne had rejected.
That was a possibility…
Could her stalker be a shunned admirer? Perhaps he does not get the chance to be involved the way other men do. Perhaps he makes a habit of being inconspicuous to lick his wounds after being rejected.
Alexander hummed to himself, sipping his champagne contemplatively.
Who are you, you coward?
Before he could investigate too much longer and make himself spiral into an obsessive need to protect Anne and honor his promise to Christian, he felt a hand on his shoulder.
“And this is my grandson, who recently returned from France with me.”
His grandmother’s voice made him freeze. She was already meddling in his affairs.
He sighed, fixed a charming smile on his face, and turned to face the group of older women. “Good evening, ladies,” he said.
“Alexander, meet the Dowager Countess of Marston. Her grandson is dancing with Miss Georgia Baxter.”
Alexander bowed politely, kissing the back of the Dowager Countess’s hand.
“Lady Marston,” he greeted, standing straight once more.
The other two ladies were introduced to him—a dowager viscountess and a baroness. They both had single granddaughters that they wished him to meet.
“My granddaughter, Miss Eleanor Lexington, is the one standing by the champagne fountain,” the Dowager Viscountess said, smiling proudly.
The Baroness came up to his other side, and he suddenly felt claustrophobic. He winced, trying to maintain his smile. “Andmygranddaughteris the one dancing with the Danish prince.”
She extended a graceful, wrinkled hand that was adorned with jewelry. Alexander tried to step back. “However, she is not destined for the young prince,” she continued. “He is the seventh in line to the throne and owns only a small amount of land. He ishardlya match, unlike yourself, Your Grace.”
“How flattering,” he said politely. His eyes landed on his grandmother accusingly. He had asked her not to meddle, and here she was, stirring her cauldron and practically cackling over it. “However, I was otherwise engaged in?—”
“Your Grace, would you ask Eleanor for a dance? She waits for you, you know. I know she had high hopes of being introduced to you tonight. Shall I take you over there to introduce you?”
He wondered how much he would have to endure to be polite and not outright dismiss these women and their hopeful granddaughters. Of course, their granddaughters were indeed beautiful, but his eyes kept straying to Anne, who happily twirled in the arms of any gentleman who asked her to dance. Each time her eyes found his across the crowded ballroom was like a shock to his system.
He yearned to be the one holding her. He was angry with himself for rejecting her. He shouldn’t have. But duty to his best friend had to come before any selfish desire to have her for himself.
“I am sure Alexander would be most delighted to be introduced to both of your granddaughters! After all, why wouldn’t a man without a wife and with so much to give remain unwed?” His grandmother shot him a glare as she pulled him close. “Do you wish to remain a bachelor all your life, Alex?”
