Page 58 of A Duke's Sinful Bargain
Somehow, even through Tom’s search, the man had managed to remain elusive, which surprised Alexander. Perhaps they had not been forceful enough? One option was to simply ask Lady Pentor if she knew of the man’s whereabouts. However, that might bring an avalanche of questions that Alexander was not all that keen on answering. As always, he preferred having things done his way. Only this time, his way was not yielding any results.
As he entered the grand mansion that was Lady Pentor’s home, the air shimmered with music and sounds of merriment and laughter. The murmur of conversation attacked him on all sides. A few familiar faces greeted him warmly as soon as he made his entrance, their smiles and nods a fleeting distraction from his singular focus.
For a moment, he regretted coming. He wanted to remain within the confines of his home and his study, with a glass of brandy in one hand and book in the other. Those were his favorite moments of respite. But those seemed like a distant memory now.
“Your Grace! We haven’t seen you at White’s in a while!” one of the men greeted him cordially. “We need to play a round or two of cards soon!”
Alexander just nodded. He barely heard what the man said. He didn’t even recognize him in the sea of all those faces. That didn’t matter. A moment later, he did not even remember him. Detached and distracted, he surveyed the room in search of Sir Rupert, his mind consumed by thoughts of the elusive blackmailer. But despite his keen gaze and determined search, there was no sign of the man amid the hustle and bustle of the guests.
Several hands reached out to shake his, to pat him firmly on the shoulder. All of them received a moment of his attention, but that was all. With each passing second of his time there, Alexander’s frustration mounted, his patience wearing thin as he navigated the tumultuous sea of smiling faces and whispered conversations, none of which concerned him. He was focused on the task at hand.
Time was of the essence. The longer Sir Rupert remained elusive, the more precarious the situation was bound to become. It was already out of Alexander’s control, and things would only become more and more uncontrollable.
He continued his search through the crowd, unable to shake the feeling that gnawed at him from within. The weight of his secrets was becoming heavier and heavier, and the threat of exposure loomed large, not only for him but for Anna as well. The thought of her going through such public shame made him feel like the worst man ever. She didn’t deserve any of this. This was all his fault and he needed to set things straight.
Just as he was about to search even more fervently, someone placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, calling out his name in a drawn-out but melodious voice, which he recognized immediately.
“Your Grace! I was hoping to stumble onto you here!” she chirped.
Lady Genevieve’s hand remained on his shoulder for fraction of a second longer than customs dictated. When she withdrew it. Alexander turned to her, bowing respectfully, as customs dictated.
“Lady Genevieve,” he greeted her.
“I feel like it’s been forever since we last spoke,” she gushed, her presence a whirlwind of nostalgia and romance, something Alexander had no interest in. Every time she saw him, she had a tendency to draw him into her conversations, which mostly revolved around the two of them and their now non-existent friendship. She had become a little more than an acquaintance now, one with whom he had nothing in common.
However, because of their shared past, as they had been childhood friends simply because their parents had been friends, he could not excuse himself without exchanging a few pleasantries with her. Still, he felt no inclination to remain in her company longer than necessary. He figured a few courteous words would suffice and he would be allowed to continue roaming the ballroom.
“It has been,” he agreed politely. “You look as lovely as ever.” It was mere politeness spoken for the sake of politeness, but it seemed she took it as something more than it was. That was the truth he had been willingly blinded to. It was easier that way.
“Why, you are so wonderful to notice,” she gushed, her eyes lighting up at his words. “You know, I purchased a gown just for this occasion. I was wondering whether I chose the right shade of blue—cerulean blue, you see—but if you complimented me, then I must have.”
“Yes.” He nodded once again, her words flowing into his head through one ear and then out of it through the other. None of her words remained.
How strange that was. With Anna, he was absorbing her every breath, her every word into himself, but with another woman, he could barely remain focused on what she was telling him. A conversation about the color of her gown seemed like the most preposterous thing in the world.
“You know, it is funny,” she continued, her words a melody of longing and affection. “I was just talking about you the other day!”
He didn’t say anything to that, but she took it upon herself to continue without even being told to. “I was reminiscing on how you rescued me, do you remember?”
“Of course,” he replied, civil but guarded.
It was a story he had lived through and then heard a million times before. Every single time, Lady Genevieve would embellish it a little more. The horse would be more frightened and, therefore, more dangerous. She herself would be more lightheaded and fearful for her life. Finally, he would be more heroic with each retelling.
Not that he minded. It was her story to tell, although he did not like her making him into the hero that he most certainly was not. The horse she was riding had gotten startled, and all he had done was calm the animal down before things got really bad. Nothing else. She then took it upon herself to make it into a life-saving story, with everyone gushing and in awe of him after hearing it.
In their eyes, Lady Genevieve had transformed him from a mere human into a hero who had saved the damsel in distress, risking his own life in the process. In fairy tales, such stories ended with the dashing hero marrying the damsel and the two living happily ever after. In his opinion, that was all nonsense, of course. But it seemed Lady Genevieve did not share his views.
In fact, he suspected that all of this was the cause of her subsequent infatuation with him. He could tell from the way she looked at him, from the way she would blush when he spoke to her. They were little signs that revealed how a lady felt around a gentleman. One did not need to be a detective to put two and two together.
She didn’t need to tell him anything, for him to know she would accept his courtship in a blink of an eye. However, he had no such intention. Courting Lady Genevieve had never even crossed his mind and he didn’t believe he needed to mention it aloud.
He simply didn’t wish to hurt her in any way or give her false hopes. That was why he had decided not to attend her coming-out ball. He didn’t see a reason for it. Later, he was told that she had expected him there, that she was disappointed not to see him. But a little disappointment was far better than a broken heart due to unrequited love. He was doing her a favor.
Only, from the looks of it, she still didn’t get the message. She kept retelling this story to whoever wished to hear it, even to himself. Yet, despite her best efforts to captivate his attention, he remained steadfast in his resolve, his demeanor cool and composed.
He thought of a way to steer her away from himself so he could focus on the mission that had brought him there in the first place. “Why, a lady as lovely as yourself should be dancing, Lady Genevieve. Your dancing card must be full.”
“It is, but…” She smiled, blushing softly. “I was hoping you would ask me to dance.”
