Page 3 of The Scarlet Lady's Duke of Desire
“Miss Thornton?” The duke said with a raised eyebrow, and it was only the look of concern on his handsome face that caused her to realise she had been staring at him, expressionless with shock, for several moments.
He held his hand out close to where Petunia was holding Melody’s out for him to take. Though he did not take her hand from Petunia’s she could already feel the heat of his hand close to theirs and Melody’s entire body quivered all over again.
“Miss Thornton, would you do me the honour of the next dance?” The duke asked when Melody finally blinked and cleared her throat enough to begin recovering from her shock.
“I…I…” Melody stammered, unsure of what to say. It had been so long since she had last accepted a dance, since she had even last been asked to dance, that she had no way of knowing what was acceptable to say and what was not.
Closing her eyes for just a second, she imagined what Petunia might say. Then, holding her breath, she opened her eyes again and barely dared to say, “I would be pleased to dance with you, Your Grace.”
Petunia barely squeezed her fingers before releasing her hand. Out of the corner of her eye, Melody saw the anticipation and excitement upon her friend’s face but in that moment, all Melody could feel was terror.
Her throat constricted, she barely dared to slip her gloved hand into the duke’s.
The murmurs around them and the eyes upon them only grew as the duke turned and started to lead Melody out onto the dancefloor.
“Have fun,” Petunia hissed under her breath to her as she went.
Melody threw a glance over her shoulder at her friend, practically begging her with her eyes to come up with some way out of this entire thing. Again, she thought that she never should have allowed Petunia to talk her into going to the ball in the first place.
If she had just stayed home, she would not have the eyes of an entire ballroom upon her right then, as one of the most eligible bachelors in the country caused the entiretonto set their attention upon her.
Even as they reached a space on the dancefloor and the duke turned to pull her into his arms, Melody couldn’t help but think that this had to be his roundabout way of getting Petunia’s attention. She braced herself, ready for the immediate barrage of questions she was about to receive about her friend once the music began.
But instead, the moment that the music started, the duke began to guide her silently about the dancefloor. Though it was slightly confusing, Melody took the silence and the time to ensure that she was dancing properly.
Still, she could feel the eyes of the room upon them and with every glance away from the duke, she could see that there were several expressions of confusion besides her own. One such expression, tinged with hatred, was that of her cousin. Lady Florence was standing off to one side of the dancefloor, looking absolutely horrified at the fact that Melody was on the floor. No doubt she believed that she ought to have been the one in the duke’s arms, not Melody.
And for once, Melody would have had to agree with her cousin. After all, Lady Florence was the daughter of an earl, a well-respected young woman with a great family lineage, wealth, and beauty. By rights of birth and nobility, Lady Florence was the one thought to ‘deserve’ the attentions of a duke.
And it was clear from the looks of many around them, that the rest of thetonwould have agreed with her also.
Yet, the duke seemed entirely unphased by their stares, or the fact that they were clearly gossiping about the newest couple upon the dancefloor.
The longer that they danced, the harder Melody found it to concentrate on what was going on around them. The feel of the duke’s hand upon the small of her back and the way he squeezed her fingers in his other hand made it almost impossible to think of anything else.
With every movement of his feet and the way he glided them around the dancefloor, Melody started to feel as though they were not even touching the ground. For once, she felt featherlight and the moment that she dared to meet the duke’s gaze, everything around them seemed to melt away.
Again, her breath caught in her throat and suddenly she felt as though time itself had halted.
She was shocked all over again when the duke leaned forwards and whispered into her ear, “There is no need to look quite so surprised, Miss Thornton.”
“Excuse me?” Melody exclaimed and when he pulled back to look her in the eye once more, she felt her entire body tingling with heat. His closeness was enough to make her blush as she felt his solid, muscular body pressed against her own.
Embarrassingly, she felt her nipples hardening against the material of her stay and there was a heat building between her thighs, the likes of which she had never experienced before.
The scent of the duke was heavy all around her, musky and masculine and all-consuming. Every rational thought in Melody told her that she ought to get away from him, that she could not afford to allow herself to be so close to such a man, when her reputation was already on the ground, and yet she knew that if she so much as put a foot out of step while dancing with him, everyone around them would read far too much into it.
If she were to leave the duke half-way through a dance, she would be forever known as the woman who had spurned the most eligible man in London. And that was the last thing her reputation needed right now, or ever.
“Forgive me, Your Grace, but I cannot help but wonder why you invited me to dance,” Melody admitted, knowing that talking would be far better than imagining what might be going through his mind; all the reasons why he had asked her onto the dancefloor. She could well drive herself insane with wondering.
And in the end, she would always come back to the same conclusion; that it really had nothing to do with her but with Petunia or some other ulterior motive that had nothing to do with his wanting to get to know her personally.
“Perhaps, Miss Thornton, I simply sought to cause a little trouble this evening,” the duke announced, his smile growing even more devilish. Melody’s stomach twisted, a fluttering sensation immediately attacking her insides as though she was filling with butterflies.
This is not happening,Melody thought. A part of her wondered whether she ought to have been angry with him for suggesting that he would drag her into such a thing. Yet she couldn’t help but feel a fresh wave of desire when his hand upon her back pulled her ever closer.
He held her so close now that there was no space between their bodies and she could only begin to imagine how they must look to everyone else around them as he leaned in and whispered into her ear again, “You are far too beautiful to be left standing at the edge of the room, Miss Thornton.”
