Page 61 of Falling Into Bed with a Duke
When they reached the terrace, he stepped away from her. “We’ve been gone a rather long while. To protect your reputation, you should go in withoutme.”
“Would you be here with me now if I wasn’t the woman—” She glanced around, not certain how to ask her question without giving away too much in case someone were listening. “—you thought I was.”
“But you are, so it’s moot.”
“You know what I’m asking. I don’t think it’s what you’re answering.”
He studied her for a moment. “I don’t know. I do know that the woman I met that first night at the Nightingale intrigued me, and I was desperate to find out who she was. Talking with you at Lady Greyling’s I found equally intriguing. That the ladies are one and the same is my good fortune.”
“At least you’re honest.”
She thought that in the space of a single heartbeat, he flinched, looked guilty. Why did she have to look for things that probably weren’t even there? Footsteps sounded as other couples neared.
“Thank you for the pleasure of your company, Miss Dodger. I look forward to tomorrow.”
“Your Grace.” She went up the steps and crossed into the ballroom. No one approached her, no one stopped her as she headed across the room and ascended the stairs. She carried on until she reached a doorway that led onto the balcony that overlooked the grand salon. Ashebury had entered sometime while she made her way here. He was now dancing with Lady Honoria. It hadn’t taken long for him to give his attention elsewhere. She fought not to feel jealous. It was a ball, people danced.
She stayed where she was, watching as he danced with Lady Julia, then Lady Regina. She couldn’t help wondering if he might have photographed them.
Suddenly aware of a powerful presence coming through the doorway, she stiffened. Her brother rested his forearms on the railing.
“He’s a womanizer,” he said without preamble.
“And you weren’t?” she asked, not bothering to hide her sarcasm or irritation with him for pointing out a fact of which she was already incredibly aware.
“I had my reasons.”
“Perhaps he does as well.” She turned to look at him. “Is it inconceivable that a man could desire me?”
“No, of course not. To be quite honest, I’m unclear as to why you’re not yet married. And I’m not saying he doesn’t desire you. I just don’t believe he’s the marrying sort.”
“I’m not searching for the marrying sort.”
He straightened so quickly, she heard his spine pop. With eyes narrowed, he was quite formidable. “What are you implying?”
“That I’ve had it with fortune hunters. That I’m done with being on the marriage block. I’m not here to find a husband. I’m here because Grace is my dear friend, you are my brother, and you always host a smashing party.”
“Then why accept his attentions?”
“Why not? No longer having any plans to marry is quite a relief really, freeing actually. I don’t have to care if a man finds me pleasing. I can speak my mind and know it won’t make a bit of difference, that his opinion of me is inconsequential to bringing me joy.”
“Have you told your father this?”
“He approves.”
His jaw tightened because obviously he didn’t. “And our mother?”
“She only wants my happiness.” Or so her father had said, and she believed him. “It’s silly really for a woman’s goal in life to be obtaining a husband.”
“What is your goal then?”
“Whatever I want it to be.” No reason to upset him further by spelling it out. Pleasure.
A footstep sounded. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Edward standing just in the doorway. He scowled. “Stop shooting daggers at me, Lovingdon. I’ve only come to collect a dance with your sister.”
Lovingdon gave a nod, looked at her. “Remember what I taught you.” Then he walked off.
She sighed before turning her attention to Edward. He was remarkably handsome tonight in his swallow-tailed jacket. He smiled at her.
