Page 30 of The Duke I Wished For
For a moment her confidence faltered. These women were all so lovely and likely far better at embroidery than herself. Why would he ever choose her? But then…
Then he spotted her.
The voices around her seemed to fade into the distance as his gaze caught and held hers. He didn’t smile. Neither did she. But she could have sworn she felt the weight of his gaze upon her, grounding her, making her feel more confident with just a look.
But then a passing servant brushed her arm with his tray. “Apologies, my lady.”
“Oh…” She tore her eyes away to smile at the servant. “It’s quite all right.”
She turned back but he was gone from her view. A crowd of young men had moved to stand in front of her and she couldn’t see the duke unless she went up on tiptoe or craned her neck to seek him out.
He was here, though. That was what mattered. And those women…
Well, there was nothing she could do about that. She just had to trust that her friends were right. He wouldn’t have proposed unless he had feelings for her too…
She hoped.
Letting out a sharp exhale, she murmured an excuse to her father about needing to find something to drink. She started toward the area he’d been, but he was no longer there. The young ladies, too, had sauntered off without a duke to hold them captive.
Frowning, she scanned the crowd but there was no sign of him, until…
There! She caught sight of Blake just as he slipped into a hallway that led to the private quarters. He was too far away to follow, but she’d been to the Borelands’ home countless times with her parents, and she knew that if she made her way down the hallway to her right, it would take her to that same wing of the house.
She slipped into the hallway, where a few married couples talked quietly, away from the noisy drawing room and parlor. They paid her no mind as she moved past them farther into the house. She’d just rounded a corner when her path was unexpectedly cut off by the appearance of a stranger.
The man smiled and her stomach sank with revulsion.
No. Not a stranger. “Good evening, Mr. Benson,” she said politely.
“Ah, Lady Daffodil.” His oily voice made her shiver, but it was that hungry look in his eyes that had her backing up a pace. “I’ve been looking for you.”
She blinked, her mind temporarily blank. “Were you?”
She looked left down the hallway she’d just walked but there was no one there. The couple she’d passed must have rejoined the party. The hallway behind Mr. Benson was dark but seemed to be just as empty.
“Indeed,” he closed the gap between them, forcing her to take another step in retreat.
“I-I should be getting back to my father,” she said. “He’ll be wondering what’s taking me so long.” She went to take another step back, but his hand caught her elbow, his grip was terrifyingly firm.
“Now, now,” he tsked. “I just saw your father and your mother. They were having an engrossing conversation with the Borelands.” His smile made her stomach turn. “You won’t be missed.”
“I…” Her mouth went dry and her voice came out too weak. She could hear the party and all the guests in the other room, but somehow now they felt a world away.
“In fact, your mother was so preoccupied by her conversation, I dare say she gave me the cut direct.”
“Oh, I’m sure she didn’t mean?—”
“Got all high in her instep, didn’t she?” He arched his brows and his gaze made her squirm as it drifted down to her lips and her neck and then settled on her bosom. “Are you too good for me now too, is that it?”
“N-no, of course not?—”
“Because I was told I’d have no issue claiming your hand, and I don’t like not getting what’s mine.”
She backed up a step, but he held firm, his grip tightening to the point that she cried out.
To her horror, her cry made his smile grow and she saw a sickening satisfaction in his eyes. “That’s right, love. You do have some time to spare for the generous man who’s willing to take you on without so much as dowry, now don’t you?”
He moved in closer, until she was forced to back up lest his body brush against hers. He shifted forward again. And again.
