Page 2 of A Chance to Dance with the Duke
So Felicity had challenged Meg to accept the next man who asked her to dance.
And Meg had laughed.
She nearly laughed again now, though this choking sensation felt more like hysteria than amusement. Just moments ago she’d laughed aloud at the very idea of any gentleman asking her to dance.
Everyone knew she did not dance. She’d made excuses often enough that gentlemen had stopped asking.
Until today.
Until now.
It was almost uncanny the way he’d asked just moments after she’d made that dare.
“I-I—”I cannot. That was what she wanted to say, but the handsome duke’s smile held her captive, and the glint of laughter in his eyes held no malice. In fact, the amusement in his eyes made her want to laugh as well. It seemed to say that all was well and that she was perfect.
She blinked as her feet slammed back down on the floor of this ballroom and her head was once more back on earth.
Perfect? Her? Ha!
His brows hitched ever so slightly as he studied her. He was waiting.
Seconds ticked by with each heartbeat, and she was vaguely aware of her friend Ann rushing to her rescue by filling the silence. The sweet redhead was asking the gentlemen gathered how they were enjoying their evening. Or…she tried to ask that, but her stammer made it difficult to understand her.
Felicity nudged Meg’s arm with a loud hiss to ‘say yes already’. Meanwhile, her painfully shy friend Jane seemed to be shrinking beside her at all this newfound attention at their table.
All in all, she and her friends had managed to take a perfectly normal moment and make it dreadfully awkward.
That sounded about right.
“Isn’t that so, Jane?” Felicity was saying to the pretty blonde currently trying to disappear into a fern.
They were all buying her time to recover from her shock, but dear, shy Jane shouldn’t have to be tortured by attention.
This washerchallenge and Meg meant to accept it. She drew in a deep breath and lifted her chin. “I would be happy to dance.”
Everyone ceased speaking at once and all eyes were on her.
It was then that she realized just how much of a scene the Duke had caused by coming over here. By singling her out, by…
By asking her to dance.
Everyone knew she didn’t dance. For the briefest moment she wondered why he might have asked.
“You would,” the Duke affirmed, his tone just a little...off. But Meg couldn’t quite bring herself to look at his face to see his expression.
The last time she’d met his gaze, his smile very nearly blinded her. She had to have all her wits about her to face that flash of charm yet again.
His arm was before her, in her line of sight, and Meg placed her hand upon it, her gloved fingers resting on the dark, fine wool of his suit. For the second time in her life she pondered if she might swoon.
But no. She was not a young lady who swooned. Now, her mother on the other hand… She cast a quick glance around to see if her mother was part of the crowd hovering nearby.
The most romantic and exciting moment of Meg’s life would surely be ruined if one of her mother’s dramatic swoons ended her first dance before it could begin.
No sight of her mother—not surprising, really, since her mother had taken to depositing Meg with her fellow wallflower friends before partaking in gossip with her own acquaintances.
The duke guided her away from the table, and Meg was vaguely aware of her friends’ hushed squeals of excitement and their giddy whispers that followed her.
This was it. Like magic, she’d been dared to accept a dance, and her dance partner had appeared.
