Page 43 of A Duke's Temptation Poetess
A throat cleared, and Colin turned his head towards the sound. When he saw who it was, the Earl of Creshire, in all his villainous glory, Colin’s jaw clenched.
The Earl inclined his head, offering polite greetings to them all. Colin forced himself to be kind in return. Deborah would not want him to behave improperly. Still, Colin felt all his muscles tense at the Earl’s polite smile and warm voice. “We were discussing the dance, which is to follow tea,” Lady Bentley said.
“Is there one?” Lord Creshire asked. “How wonderful! That will be a pleasant way to spend the evening.”
“Indeed,” Russell said. “My Lady and I do enjoy dancing. Why, we met at a dance being held near gardens just like this.”
Colin noted that Russell clasped Deborah’s hand beneath the table and took a sort of grim satisfaction in knowing that his brother-in-law also likely wanted to punch Lord Creshire right in his insufferably obnoxious face.
“Did you? How romantic,” Lord Creshire said. “I am grateful, by the way, to have received the invitation to your ball, Lady Roswood. I have been unable to enjoy the countryside for some time, and I appreciate the opportunity to indulge in it and also to see your lovely home in Bath. I do not believe I have ever seen it.”
Deborah flinched, and Colin felt a tightness in his chest, accompanied by the fierce urge to leap to his feet and defend his sister. If he did, Colin would have to explain himself, though.
He could not possibly tell the truth of the whole ordeal; that would upset Deborah. But he was not certain he would be able to think of a plausible lie justifying his disdain for the man, not so quickly and before an audience.
“Have you not?” Deborah asked. Colin doubted that their guests would notice how strained his sister’s expression was, but he did. “I did not realise that. How unfortunate.”
“I am pleased to remedy the situation,” Lord Creshire said, his voice filled with good humour.
“Doubtless,” Russell replied.
The first notes of music struck the air. Their table sat near a pavilion, and Colin could see the orchestra had begun to play. A few guests wandered languidly from the gardens to join in the dance.
“Shall we?” Deborah asked, turning towards her husband. “I should like to dance.”
“At the Lady’s pleasure,” Russell replied.
It was by far the most graceful way of getting Deborah away from Lord Creshire. Colin frowned, trying to devise some means to dissuade the man from attending. It was still possible that the Earl of Creshire was simply making empty threats. Perhaps the night would arrive, and he would not make an appearance. Colin found that difficult to believe, though. It seemed like too much of a coincidence that Lord Creshire had arrived at the gardens precisely when they had.
“And do you have a partner?” Lord Creshire asked. “I would be honoured to dance a set with you, Lady Clarissa, so you are not forced to be a wallflower. Why, the blooms in the gardens might be envious of your beauty.”
Colin’s gaze snapped to Lady Clarissa, and although she smiled at Lord Creshire, it seemed that her eyes darted ever so carefully towards Colin.
“Besides, I believe His Grace intends to dance with Lady Matilda,” Lord Creshire said, his eyes dark and gleeful. “Apologies for my overhearing, Your Grace.”
Ofcourse, he had heard. The snake had probably been listening to them for a long time, hidden from sight. Colin’s jaw hurt from how tightly he clenched it. Should he warn Lady Clarissa? Could he do that without revealing what had happened to Deborah?
“None taken,” Colin replied.
“My daughter is greatly honoured by your offer,” Lady Bentley said, arching an eyebrow.
She does not know that Lord Creshire is a terrible man,Colin thought.She is not trying to be vexing.
Still, that hardly assuaged Colin’s irritation when Lady Clarissa smiled and offered a small nod of acquiescence. “I would be delighted to dance with you. Thank you for your gracious offer, Lord Creshire.”
It would only be a couple of dances, and then Colin could have his turn with Lady Clarissa. He was certain the young lady would not wish to dance with the Earl of Creshire for longer than was proper. Lady Clarissa might find Lord Creshire charming, but she had resolved not to wed save for love. Colin doubted that she would grow to love that man so quickly.
Lady Clarissa rose from the table, and Colin stood. His blood seemed to run hotter in his veins as he gazed at the detestable man, who dared to take touch Lady Clarissa’s gloved hand and lead her to the ring of dancers. Colin swallowed hard around the lump in his throat, trying to force away all his fury.
“Colin?” his aunt Matilda asked softly.
Lady Clarissa and Lord Creshire left the table. Colin noted the way that the lord leaned in close to the lady, seemingly whispering something to her.
“Colin,” his aunt repeated, more insistently.
He reluctantly forced his gaze away from Lady Clarissa. His aunt gazed meaningfully at him, tilting her head nearly imperceptibly in the direction of Lady Bentley and Mrs. Spencer.
“I promised you a dance,” Colin said, forcing levity into his tone. “We may miss this set, but I am certain we can make the next one.”
