Page 24 of A Scottish Bride for the Duke
He’d felt her body on his; he knew what she felt like when she truly wanted. He’d heard the low sounds she’d made in the back of her throat as she’d yielded to his kiss.
Thathad been passion. Desire. Not whatever lukewarm encouragement she offered to these gentlemen. Yet, despite her lack of interest, she still offered herself to them.
His jaw snapped tightly shut as he contemplated it.
Eliza leaned in closer. “Are you going to the ball tomorrow evening?”
He raised a brow at her. “Another shameless attempt to encourage me to chaperone you?”
“Oh no,” she assured him. “Mama will be there, of course. She only missed tonight because her health couldn’t cope—and her nerves dislike the violins.”
Adrian could not help glancing at Lady Isobel again and the dreamy way she watched the wooden ‘boat’ make its way acrossthe stage, the singers inside declaring their love to one another. He thought he detected a tear on her cheek.
Her nerves, evidently, were not wrought by the existence of stringed instruments.
So why was he so moved by her amazement?
“Why should I attend?” he asked frostily.
“Well,” Eliza said slowly, glancing back at Isobel, “because I thought it was your responsibility to look out for her while she’s under your care.”
Adrian clenched his jaw.
His mother had to return. Quickly. Very, very quickly.
Lady Rutherford’s ball was one of the biggest of the Season, at least according to Eliza. Isobel prepared for it as she would any other ball, wondering how she could prevail upon one of the English lords who had been courting her to propose.
Was this too soon to expect a proposal? How much time did she have? And how soon could she expect the Duchess of Somerset to return?
Once the duchess returned, she would finally be able to reveal all the sickening details and the danger that she might very well be in.
She could not trust the duke. Especially when he seemed not to trust her.
But when she came downstairs, ready to receive Eliza and her mother and travel to the ball with them, it was to find the duke himself pacing the hallway.
She paused on the stairs.
They had barely spoken since the ill-fated kiss, and that had been several days ago. In truth, she’d been hoping he wouldn’t be attending the ball at all, and certainly not waiting for her.
He glanced at her, and she couldn’t read the expression in his blue-gray eyes. “You’re late.”
“Eliza has yet to arrive, so I don’t think I am that late,” she retorted, even as her stomach twisted into knots. If only she had taken a little longer over her preparations. “I didn’t know ye were attending.”
“I feel it is my duty.” These words escaped through clenched teeth. “Not that it’s any concern of yours.”
“Of course not,” she muttered.
“You ought to be careful.”
She folded her arms, still on the stairs, unwilling to come any closer. “With what?”
“Encouraging all the young lads to make passes at you.”
“They are notmaking passes,” she said, outraged. “And if engaging them in conversation is somehow improper, then every young lady I have seen is guilty of the same crime.”
“You barely know them.”
“I barely knowye,” she snapped. “And yet ye expect me to trust ye?”
