Page 41 of The Iron Duke's Flaming Christmas
Selene froze. She could barely breathe, waiting for the duke’s response.
“Perhaps they have, my lady,” he replied eventually. “I find that most people are motivated by such things.”
Selene’s heart skipped a beat. It was hardly the vehement denial she had been longing to hear.
Lady Gwen leaned forward, toying with a button on the lapel of his jacket.
“Perhaps they want more,” she said, in a loud whisper. “Perhaps they have attended because they think an announcement is imminent, Your Grace.” Her eyes were sparkling. “Should we put them out of their misery?”
Selene’s stomach twisted, and suddenly, she knew she had to get away from them. Quickly, she started walking away, her throat thick with emotion Her head was spinning rapidly, and she could barely breathe. She wanted to pick up the skirt of the beautiful, yet alien, gown that she was wearing and sprint into the gardens to take gulps of the freezing air.
So, it is true. He is going to marry that odious lady. I should have known. Mrs. Kittles did warn me…
“Miss Bomind!”
Selene spun around. Lady Gwen was standing there, smiling sweetly at her, but her beautiful blue eyes were as hard as glass as they swept over her, taking in the gown and jewelry, the transformation of Selene from duckling to swan.
“Well, well, well,” said the lady, her smile widening. “You look quite the lady, Miss Bomind! You could almost fool me!” She paused. “His Grace has requested that you sing for the guests. I shall accompany you myself on the pianoforte. Come along.”
“Pardon, my lady?” stammered Selene, her muscles tensing. She gazed at the duke in confusion, but he was talking with someone else now a few feet away. “I do not understand…”
Her heart was racing like a rabbit now as panic assailed her. She couldn’t sing in front of all these people. The only people she had ever sung for were her parents, even though they insisted she had a sweet voice. She gazed at the duke again.
Why would he have done such a thing? Why wouldn’t he at least have warned her so she could prepare?
“Come along, Miss Bomind,” said Lady Gwen, in an imposing voice, taking her arm firmly and pulling her toward the instrument. “There is no need to be timid! His Grace has made a request—and you must obey. You might look like a lady, but I am afraid you are still his employee, my dear!”
People had stopped talking and were turning to watch them. Selene knew she had no choice but to go along with the lady, for she couldn’t just run away, if the duke had ordered her to do this. Her face burnt with mortification, and she felt a hot sweat break out on her body.
“What song, my dear?” asked Lady Gwen, in a loud, patronizing voice, sitting down at the instrument. “I am at your command.”
The duke had turned along with the other gentlemen and ladies, watching them. Slowly, he walked toward the instrument, his eyes burning as he gazed at Selene, raking over her with that look she knew meant he desired her, but was desperately trying to control it.
But despite his desire for me, he is planning to become engaged to Lady Gwen, and now, he wants to humiliate me, by forcing me to sing when I am not prepared for it. I do not understand him at all.
“What is going on?” he growled, frowning. “What are you doing, my lady?”
“Miss Bomind told me that she feels like performing,” said the lady, in a sickly-sweet voice, her fingers poised above the keys of the instrument, “and I did not like to deny her, Your Grace. So, Miss Bomind, what song do you wish me to play for you?”
Selene’s jaw dropped. She turned, staring dumbfounded, at the lady, who gazed back at her with a steady, almost blank expression. A rush of anger rose up in her chest, causing her to flush brightly and her hands to tighten.
She lied to me. She has trapped me so as to humiliate me. The duke never asked me to sing. Why has she done this?
It was on the tip of her tongue to tell the duke the truth, but then she stopped herself. As much as it would delight her to humiliate the lady just like she was trying to humiliate her, she knew it wouldn’t work.
Lady Gwen would just deny it, and everyone was looking at them, gathering around the instrument, expecting a performance. She couldn’t create a scene. She would just embarrass herself further.
She felt a rush of nerves but also a thrill of excitement.
If the lady wants me to perform, then I am going to do it. She isn’t going to know what has hit her.
“Do you know Greensleeves, my lady?” she asked in a loud, sweet voice. “It is an old folk song about love.”
“Of course I know it,” huffed Lady Gwen, frowning. “Let us begin.”
The lady started playing the first notes of the song. The audience quietened. Selene took a deep breath, turning to them, focusing on the first words of the song, which had always been one of her mother’s favorites.
She tried not to look at the duke. Her heart was racing erratically but she felt another tiny thrill go down her spine.
