Page 37 of The Duke's Gamble
“Lady Florentina?”
Florentina turned, only for her stomach to dip in a most unpleasant manner. “Lord Finneston, good evening.”
“I told you that I would make certain we danced together, did I not?” Lord Finneston wiggled one finger at her as though she was a wayward child, needing to be corrected. “And look! Here I am!”
“Yes, indeed,” Florentina murmured, her eyes darting towards Christina who had a look on her face that spoke of utter dislike. She nudged her lightly and Christina quickly forced a smile, though Florentina could well understand the feeling.
“Your dance card, Lady Florentina?”
She blinked at him, then seeing that she had no other choice but to offer it to him, took it from her wrist. “Alas,” she said, holding it back from him for a moment, “the Duke of Dartmoor has requested the waltz, and I have promised him that I shall not deny him.”
“Oh?” Lord Finneston lifted an eyebrow. “That is most considerate of him.”
“It is.” Florentina handed the card to him and watched as his eyes moved across the dances. To her irritation, he chose two dances, though Florentina had no say in whether or not she desired such a thing from him. Thereafter, he did take Christina’s card but only chose one dance, making his preference more than a little obvious.
“I am a little envious of the Duke, that he should be able to take your waltz, Lady Florentina.” Coming a little closer to her, he tilted his head and put one hand on her arm, albeit gently.“Would you accept a request from me to take your waltz at whatever ball we both next attend?”
It was on the tip of Florentina’s tongue to tell him that she was now betrothed to the Duke of Dartmoor and would have no need to save the waltz for him but, given that the Duke had not yet made the announcement and intended to do so very soon, Florentina forced those words back. “I think you shall just have to seek me out,” she answered, with what she hoped was a warm smile. “But I thank you for your consideration.”
“Lady Florentina. Might I speak with you for a moment?”
Without so much as glancing to see which gentleman it was that spoke to her, Florentina answered instantly. “Yes, of course.” Turning then, she saw none other than Lord Crawley who, for whatever reason, was now scowling at Lord Finneston in the most dark manner. “Lord Crawley.” A little confused, she glanced at Christina. “Are you sure it is not my sister that you wish to speak with?”
“I am sure.” He took her by the elbow and then led her away from Lord Finneston and Christina, though only by a few steps. His expression was heavy, his jaw jutting forward as he glanced all around rather than looking at her. “I do not want to say this, Lady Florentina, but I fear I must. As you may recall, I did wish to speak with you some weeks ago but you were unwilling.” He frowned all the more darkly. “I understand that you do not trust me and have no reason to listen to me but—”
“I would not say I distrust you now, Lord Crawley.” Confused as to why he appeared so upset and even a little angry, Florentina swallowed against the tightness in her throat. “I am sorry that I did not wish to speak to you at the time for certainly, I was unsure of your motivations.”
“It is for your own sake that I speak,” he told her, leaning a little closer now. “Lady Florentina, as much as it pains me to speak of this, I must warn you against the Duke of Dartmoor.”
“Against?” Florentina’s mouth went dry as Lord Crawley nodded, utterly confused as to what he meant. “You are his friend, are you not?”
“I was. In truth I thought that he might have changed of late, I believed that his apology was genuine… until I saw Lord Finneston.”
Florentina blinked, confused. “You saw Lord Finneston?”
Lord Crawley took in a deep breath and then let it out again. “Again, I do not want to injure you,” he said, softly. “The reason the Duke returned to London and made himself present in society was because he had a plan— a plan to make certain that you would not continue with your betrothal.”
A dreadful fear gripped Florentina, and she could not breathe as she stared back at Lord Crawley, silently pleading with him to explain.
“Lord Allington was to push all of his attentions upon you until you believed yourself half in love with him,” Lord Crawley told her, as Florentina gasped with shock. “Lord Allington is something of a scoundrel though thetonare not fully aware of it, and he was going to basically tell you that he was half in love with you and wished to propose marriage.”
Florentina closed her eyes, gripping Lord Crawley’s arm for support. “So that I would end the betrothal in the hope of marrying Lord Allington.”
“Precisely.” Lord Crawley’s voice had dropped low. “Lord Allington, however, found himself truly drawn to you and, much to the Duke’s astonishment—and my relief—determined that he would no longer be involved in such a scheme.”
Florentina’s whole body shuddered as she opened her eyes and looked at the gentleman again. “That is why he has withdrawn his company from me?”
“Yes, that is so. The Duke, thereafter, has done nothing other than state that he has begun to realise how much of a foolhe has been and the like and, if I am to be truthful, I would tell you that I did begin to believe him! But now, in seeing the way that Lord Finneston has hurried towards you, the way that he has sought out your company in such a forceful manner now makes me fearful that the Duke has done the very same thing again, but has sought to cover his actions by pretending to alter himself.”
Florentina closed her eyes, trying to grasp what Lord Crawley had said, but a great resistance rose within her. Everything she had come to believe about the Duke would vanish if she accepted it; all she had trusted in him would shatter. Their kisses—the two most wonderful moments of her life—would mean nothing if she believed what Lord Crawley suggested. And yet, at the same time, Florentina’s heart began to tear.
“I must speak with the Duke himself,” she answered, her voice shaking just as terribly as the rest of her body. “I must know what the truth is.”
Lord Crawley nodded, looking into her eyes with great concern. “Are you certain that you can?”
“I must.” Closing her eyes, Florentina took in a long, steadying breath, telling herself that she had to hear the truth from the Duke’s lips before she would let herself react to it. If it were true that the Duke had been nothing but a pretender, her whole world would crumble, yet still, she would be bound to him.
I will not give up the house.
