Page 10 of Wedded to the Forbidden Duke
Lady Cecilia.
The way she pursed her lips when she was displeased with something he’d said. The fiery glint in her eyes when she was excited, or infuriated, or otherwise ready to go to battle.
The way her chest heaved when they argued. From anger, surely—but when he looked at her, it was easily mistaken for lust.
He shook his head. Cecilia was not the issue at hand, Miss Banfield was. The source of his feelings did not matter. What mattered was that he took action upon them.
If Zachary was not to be convinced, then he would simply have to foil Cecilia’s plans himself.
Chapter Five
The ball was a triumph. The ballroom had been transformed, bedecked with beautiful lights. Ladies and lords swirled in the center of the floor, draped in rich fabrics and dancing along to the string quartet Lady Sheridan had hired. As Ian walked down the steps, he noted several others standing around the corners of the ballroom, engaged in conversation—many of them gossiping, no doubt. He continued to scan the room, until his eyes lit upon a fair-haired woman in a pale green gown.
When she turned around, his breath caught in his throat.
In the sparkling candlelight that filled the ballroom, Lady Cecilia was dazzling. The lights seemed almost to catch in her hair and in her eyes, the latter of which was brought out handsomely by the green of her gown. The gown was made of a soft fabric which curled against her as she moved, highlighting the curves of her body. As Ian took her in, he could not help but think she would look better with nothing on at all.
It was impossible to look away from her as she approached him, her brother and mother by her side.
“Harwick! Good of you to make it,” Zachary greeted him.
“Of course. I could hardly have missed it.” He bowed to the ladies and received a curtsy in return. “Am I very late?”
“Not at all,” Cecilia said. “I assure you, Your Grace, your presence was not at all missed.”
“Lady Cecilia,” he replied, bowing. “I appreciate the assurance.”
As her gaze caught his, there was something in her eyes that touched him deeper still. Had she noticed the way he couldn’t keep his eyes off of her? Could she somehow read his thoughts? It was impossible, he knew, though the piercing green of her gaze gave him his doubts.
He cleared his throat, forcing himself to pull his eyes from hers so that he could greet the approaching Lady Sheridan with another bow, as well as her daughter. “Miss Banfield. You ladies both look lovely tonight.”
“Thank you, Your Grace,” Nancy said, coming up from her curtsy to shyly look over at Zachary. “And Lord Lindbury.”
“Miss Banfield,” Zachary replied. For all his protestations that he viewed Miss Banfield as nothing more but a pretty diversion, Ian noted the light flush that came to his cheeks, almostmatching Miss Banfield’s blush. “Would you do me the honor of accompanying me for a dance?”
Nancy fairly glowed as she nodded. “The honor would be mine,” she said softly, accepting the elbow that Zachary offered, and going with him to the floor as the string quartet prepared to begin a waltz, leaving Ian and Cecilia alone.
The duke cleared his throat to break the silence. “Lady Cecilia?—”
“I must go,” she said, interrupting him. “Lord Wetherbury asked me to dance with him, earlier—I ought to find him before the dancing begins.”
“I should think it is his responsibility to find you, no?” the duke asked, smiling wryly. “It is unseemly for a lady to be forced to chase a gentleman down.”
“Yes, of course. You are, after all, an expert in unseemly matters, are you not, Your Grace?” she snapped back. “I thank you for your concern, and bid you a good night.”
Ian could not help but watch her as she left.
Finding Lord Wetherbury had been no trouble at all, though Cecilia was rather beginning to wish she had not bothered.
“My apologies, my lady,” he stammered out, for what must have been the fifth time. “I do not know what has come over me, to leave me so wrong-footed.”
Cecilia forced a smile. “It is quite all right, my lord,” she said, though she gritted her teeth at the pain in her foot. “I am by no means the most graceful dancer myself.”
This was true. Although, she thought, at least she had never stepped on her partner’s feet—particularly not as many times and with as much force as Lord Wetherbury had throughout their waltz. When the dance finally ended, it was a great relief. She curtsied, then tried to make it as far from the dance floor as possible. To her delight, Nancy and Zachary were still engaged in conversation on the other side of the room.
No doubt he will ask her to dance again,she thought, immensely pleased.
“Lady Cecilia.”
