Page 11 of A Chance to Dance with the Duke
“But you cannot avoid him forever,” Felicity ended.
Meg nodded, and when she spoke, she sounded far less terrified than she felt. “I know that. And I don’t intend to avoid society forever just because of one embarrassing moment.”
Even if she did still hear the whispers and snickers in her nightmares.
She faced each of her concerned friends in turn. “I promise, I have no regrets about saying yes, and I don’t intend to letone man’s bad actions ruin this Season for me or any of us.” She leaned forward and held a hand out, and all three of them clasped it at once. “I have my friends, so I have nothing to fear.”
The words were excellent, but her heart ricocheted at the thought of facing society—and worse, the Duke—in public once more.
“So you’ll attend the Turners’ ball?” Jane asked, so hopeful Meg couldn’t help but smile.
“I will. And what’s more…I shall enjoy myself.”
“Here, here!” Felicity cheered.
“And the Duke?” Ann asked warily.
Meg’s smile felt just a little wicked as her heart kicked painfully against her ribs. “I cannot avoid him entirely, of course. But so far as I’m concerned, I owe that man no courtesy.”
The others exchanged an amused look. “And so,” Felicity said slowly, her eyes glinting with amusement. “When you see the Duke…”
Meg widened her eyes, feigning ignorance as she reached for one of the pastries on the table before her. She popped it in her mouth and chewed slowly before asking sweetly, “WhatDuke?”
4
Carver tapped his foot with impatience as he watched young lady after young lady pass before him—some coy, some flirtatious, some smiling, some smoldering.
But not one was the lady he was looking for.
This was getting ridiculous.
Carver turned to his cousin. “Have you seen her?”
Kal’s gaze scanned over the crowd, which wasn’t quite as crushing out here on the veranda. “Have I seen who?”
Carver turned to see if Kal was in jest, but he did not appear to be. “Miss Taylor, of course.”
That got Kal’s attention. He turned to Carver with a quirked brow. “Still haven’t apologized, have you?”
Carver’s teeth ground together as his nostrils flared. A simple apology. How difficult was that to accomplish?
Absurdly difficult, it seemed, when the subject of said apology refused to be anywhere near him.
“I told you, I have it on good authority that Miss Taylor will be here tonight.” Kal sounded bored.
Carver couldn’t blame him.
His desire to make amends with Miss Taylor had grown from a pressing need to an overwhelming obsession.
But truly, this matter was getting out of hand.
He’d made one more attempt to visit her at her home, and had met instead with her father. A terrifying man, to be honest.
Viscount Herdmore was expected to inherit the Earldom soon. His father, Miss Taylor’s grandfather, was on his deathbed. Everyone knew that. Herdmore had made a name for himself in parliament, and was expected to wield more influence than ever when he became Earl.
So yes, he was a powerful man indeed. And his demeanor said he well knew it.
If Carver hadn’t spent his childhood surrounded by more powerful and more terrifying men in his own household, he might’ve turned tail and run.
