Page 5 of A Chance to Dance with the Duke
And so, he watched her walk away with a wince. Even with that awkward gait, she held her head up with pride.
Then the whispers around him seemed to grow louder.Pegleg Meg, he kept hearing.The Duke’s never found any ladygood enough to dance with…she actually thought he’d choose her, can you imagine?
He inwardly cringed, his gut clenching painfully as he realized that everyone believed he’d done this on purpose. That he’d set out to humiliate the poor girl.
He ran a hand over his hair, no doubt mussing the locks his servant had taken such great pains to manage.
“What was that about?” His cousin Kal’s low voice was a growl beside him.
Carver fought the urge to wince again. The Marquess of Kalvin might have been a second cousin, but he was also his best friend. Kal knew him better than anyone—well enough to know that he was not a cruel man. Not in the slightest.
Not normally, at least.
But try telling Miss Taylor that.
“Did you mean to humiliate the girl?” Kal asked, confusion clear in his eyes, alongside censure.
Carver turned to glare at him. “Of course not.”
Kal’s dark visage grew darker. “Then what were you thinking by singling that poor girl out? Asking her to dance like that?”
Carver opened his mouth and then closed it. His reasoning was already starting to sound absurd in his head. He could only imagine how feeble it would sound coming out of his mouth. “I blame your mother.”
Kal let out a huff of amusement. “I too enjoy blaming my mother for most things that go awry. But how was she to blame for this?”
Carver was too busy trying to keep an eye on the young lady who’d walked away. Limped, actually. Egads, he was the worst human on earth. “Your mother was on me to dance,” he muttered.
Kal groaned. “She is notyourmother, you know. You don’t have to let her needle you so.”
He huffed. Kal was right, of course. But without a mother of his own, and with his father and older brother now gone, his aunt and his cousin were all he had. “She was haranguing me about my good reputation.”
“Whatgood reputation?” Kal mocked.
Carver shot him a sidelong glare. “Exactly.”
In his defense, Carver was hardly some ne’er-do-well rake. But no one in good society was eager to believe that. Not when it was so much more entertaining to believe all the gossip about him.
And not when his father and brother had left such a legacy behind when they’d died.
But Kal couldn’t understand the pressure that came with having to single handedly save a title’s reputation.
Kal had barely known Carver’s father and brother. They’d died when both he and Kal were children. His aunt hadn’t been well-acquainted either. She’d been related on his mother’s side, and whether she realized it or not, her nose still crinkled a bit at any mention of the former Duke or his rightful heir.
No, his family was known for their wealth and power…but most assuredlynotfor their kindness. Nor their regard for common courtesy, for that matter.
The stories he’d heard were bad enough, but Carver was old enough to remember tales even worse. He’d seen for himself how cruel their humor could be, and how callously they abused their power.
He swallowed hard as Miss Taylor disappeared from view, swallowed up by this crowd of gleefully mocking bystanders.
And all because of him.
“I have to get out of here.” Carver felt the room shifting around him, the curious glances growing more frequent now that Miss Taylor had gone from view.
They were watching to see what he’d do next.
They were waiting to see if he’d laugh. Becausetheywere laughing. Not all. Some were eyeing him with disappointment—and could he blame them?
But he caught a crowd of young ladies with bright eyes and coy smiles, still giggling at Miss Taylor’s expense.
