Page 2 of The Scarlet Lady's Duke of Desire
“Lady Florence, I would advise you leave us be before you make a fool of yourself,” Petunia continued, glowering at Melody’s cousin as though she would have liked to hit her physically as hard as her words already had.
Lady Florence again looked between them and hissed, “The two of you were made for each other,” before she turned and left in a huff.
Melody had to bite back a small hint of laughter. Though she was horrified at how her friend had stood up for her yet again, she couldn’t help but find humour in the way her cousin had stormed off.
“You know, you really ought not to aggravate her like that,” Melody said with a deep sigh, even as Petunia slipped her arm into the crook of hers, beginning to guide her in the direction of the refreshments table. “She could make life extremely difficult for the both of us if she had a mind to.”
Petunia looked at Melody and rolled her eyes. Shaking her head, she pointed out, “If she were to make life difficult for us, she would have to be entirely spotless herself, and Lady Florence is far from innocent.”
“I suppose,” Melody thought aloud with a deep sigh, hoping that her friend was right. It would be all too easy for her cousin to make up some rumour or other about her, something that would bring her reputation even lower than before, if such a thing were even possible.
At that point she believed her reputation was entirely upon the ground. Not that she had ever really had much of a reputation anyway. Save for being a scandal-born daughter, nobody really knew anything about her, not that they cared to know. In fact, sometimes, she believed she barely knew herself.
Her encounter with her cousin had told her one thing though. “Perhaps I should just go home,” she thought aloud, looking to her friend for confirmation of the fact.
Petunia had just opened her mouth, looking as though she was going to offer some grand protest, when there was the sound of someone clearing their throat behind them.
Please, don’t be Florence again,Melody thought with gritted teeth, her entire body tensing painfully even as she turned with Petunia.
As soon as she did, she felt entirely stupid. How could she have mistaken such a masculine throat clearing for her cousin? Lady Florence was many things, but masculine was not one of them.
And the man standing before her was far from feminine. In fact, he was ruggedly handsome with an afternoon shadow upon his strong jaw, and his flawlessly tanned skin suggested that he was a lover of the outdoors, something her cousin absolutely loathed. One could tell it simply by her milky complexion, entirely pure when compared to Melody’s own freckled pale skin.
“Forgive the interruption, ladies,” the man said with a breathtaking smile, as he ran his fingers through his glossy brown hair and looked between the two of them. With a dip of his head, he introduced himself, “James Hastings, Duke of Haston.”
Melody gulped past the sudden lump in her throat. She did not need to be told who he was. She knew very well, just as everyone else in the room knew exactly who he was. It was not only his ruggedly handsome good looks that had gotten him his reputation but also his family name and his business savvy.
Even more so than that, he had gained a reputation for being the kind of man to do exactly as he pleased. That was, in the last few years or so, since he had become Duke after his father.
And it was clear from the way that several other guests close by were watching them now, that people were still interested and talking of the man. It was not surprising when the duke was perhaps one of the most eligible bachelors in London. And here he was, standing before them.
“You are Miss Petunia Blackford, are you not?”
The duke’s question told Melody all that she needed to know and instinctively, she began to pull her arm free of her friend’s grip, knowing she would soon be required to release her anyway.
“I am, Your Grace,” Petunia responded with a dip of her head. “And this is my friend, Miss Melody Thornton.”
“I am aware,” the duke responded and even the tone of his voice made Melody’s breath catch in her throat again. Utterly breathless, she felt caught in a trap as the duke turned his gaze once more upon her. The way their gazes met made warmth spread throughout Melody’s body in such a way that every inch of her skin tingled.
Then, just as suddenly, his gaze broke from hers again and he turned his full attention back to Petunia. “Miss Petunia, I wondered if perhaps you might afford me the honour of a dance…with your friend.”
The duke spoke loudly and clearly almost as though he wished for the entire room to hear him and yet Melody could not quite comprehend what he had just said. Even when his gaze fell upon her again, his face broadening into a devilishly handsome smile, she couldn’t get her head around the words.
The gasps of shock that came from all around them told Melody that at least one woman close by had heard. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the news spreading like wildfire; heads whipped around to face them, and the glaring expressions of several young ladies were enough to make her feel sick to her stomach.
I…I think I need to clean my ears out,Melody thought, mentally shaking herself in an attempt to get her brain to work again. She had to have misheard him. He had asked for Petunia’s hand to dance. That had to be it. Men always asked for Petunia to dance with them. After all, she was petite and pretty and she was the daughter of a well-respected and wealthy viscount.
Melody on the other hand was none of those things. To the majority of thetonshe was simply the daughter of a wealthy businessman, a woman people tolerated in their presence simply because that man’s family line had been going for generations, the daughter of a noble second son who had made a heinous choice that had left him disowned from said family and who had been forced to make his living from the ground up.
“Oh, yes, Your Grace,” Petunia said, gripping hold of Melody’s hand and practically shoving it towards the duke. “I am sure that Miss Thornton would be honoured to dance with you.”
Melody shot her friend a horrified glance as the realisation of what was happening suddenly hit her. It had been so long since she had last danced in public that she wasn’t at all certain she would remember how to do it. Would she remember all the steps? Would she stand on the duke’s toes? Would some other couple come barging into them just to cause trouble for her?
There were so many different things that could go wrong, one of them being the fact that everyone was already staring at them as though they were horrified to see the duke asking for her hand to dance.
I should decline,Melody thought though she knew that was not an option. If she was seen to be disrespectful towards a nobleman, a duke of all things, she would only be adding to her own already tarnished reputation. Not to mention the fact that people would question what she could possibly know about the duke that might leave her unwilling to dance with him.
So far, he had a reputation for being a rogue and a rake and several other things besides and yet none of that was considered disgusting enough for him to be worthy of rejection, not when he was so wealthy and so well-liked by his peers.
