Page 16 of His Forbidden Duchess
Eloise blinked incredulously. “What? But what if?—”
“Let him,” Felix interrupted, his voice firm. “Men need to feel important, not corrected. Trust me, he will adore you for it.”
Eloise narrowed her eyes, resisting the urge to argue. “I am not in the habit of letting men spew nonsense just to feed their egos.”
Felix smirked, his amusement clear. “Consider it part of the lesson. You can outsmart him in every other way. It is all about playing the part.”
Just as Lady Danridge returned, Felix gave her a quick wink. “Good luck. You are so stubborn, you will surely need it.”
Felix slipped into the crowd, leaving Eloise irritated and flustered. Did he just compliment her? More than once? The thought sent a small thrill through her.
He is your brother’s friend and a known rake. He probably compliments every woman he converses with.
While she knew that to be true, she still could not hide the warmth in her cheeks or the odd titillation that was still coursing through her.
Lady Danridge touched her daughter’s arm, unaware of the exchange. “Shall we find our seats, darling?”
Eloise forced a smile, trying to focus on the task ahead. Mortcombe, music, and the intricate game she had agreed to play.
Just as she was thinking about it all, he appeared before her.
“Ah, Lady Elo—oh!” Lord Mortcombe looked down at her gown quite openly, his eyes wide with surprise. “I… er…” He cleared his throat. “You look lovely this evening, Lady Eloise, if I may so.”
Eloise smirked.Whoever knew it could be so easy?
Felix.
“That is very kind of you to say, Lord Mortcombe,” she replied with a curtsy.
The poor man’s jaw bobbed up and down for a moment as he gathered his wits and turned to Eloise’s mother. “And Lady Danridge,” he smiled, “I truly do not know which one of you shines brighter.”
“Well, are you not the charmer.” The Dowager beamed at his words as the three of them continued to walk toward their seats, eventually settling into them. Fate had seen to it that Lord Mortcombe’s seat was right next to Eloise’s.
“I was actually hoping I might find you here this evening,” he said, his voice oily with self-importance.
“You were?” she asked, feigning surprise.
“You shall certainly enjoy the musicale.”
Eloise plastered a bright smile on her face, remembering Felix’s words. She straightened her posture, letting her shoulders pull back slightly, enough for Mortcombe to notice her altered gown once more but not so much that it seemed obvious. The movement reminded her of Felix’s hand at the base of her spine, and she felt a spark of warmth at the memory.
“Indeed, My Lord, it is to be a lovely performance,” she replied, lowering her lashes before looking back at him as though he was the most fascinating man in the room.
Mortcombe’s gaze lingered on her neckline for a moment longer, his interest clearly piqued. “Ah, music,” he continued, his voice loud enough to draw attention from those nearby. “It’s such a rare thing these days to meet a young lady who truly appreciates the greats—Bach, Beethoven… Mozart.”
Eloise nodded, trying to appear as though she was hanging onto his every word. Inside, she braced herself for what was to come. “Mozart, of course,” she said, her tone light and deferential.
Mortcombe leaned towards her, smiling as though he was about to impart a piece of great wisdom. “You know, I have always found it fascinating that Mozart composed most of his work after he lost his hearing.”
Eloise froze, feeling her muscles tense.
Mozart… what? No, that’s Beethoven!
Her brain screamed at the inaccuracy, but she remembered Felix’s warning. She bit the inside of her cheek and forced a dreamy expression.
“That is… quite remarkable, My Lord. How extraordinary that he was able to accomplish so much without his hearing. You are full of such fascinating knowledge,” she managed to say although it required every bit of her conscious effort.
Mortcombe puffed up, clearly pleased with himself. “Indeed! Quite an inspiration. It is the sort of genius that can only be found in men, would you not agree?”
