Page 92 of When a Duke Loves a Woman
“I’d deduced that much, thank you very much. Have you been seeing him since?”
“It’s complicated.”
“I won’t stand for him taking advantage.”
“I won’t stand for that myself. Where the deuce is your wife?”
He chuckled low, knowing full well she was seeking to change the subject. “Visiting with those she knows. We’re supposed to search for her now that your dance is done.”
Only they didn’t have to search for her because not even a half minute later they spied her coming in their direction, a gentleman walking beside her. Gillie was aware of her brother stiffening, no doubt with jealousy because another man was in close proximity to his wife. “It won’t do any of us any favors if you plant your fist in his face,” she told him.
“The thought never crossed my mind.”
“Liar.” She smiled as they approached, and the gentleman—the top of his head didn’t even come to her shoulder—blushed.
When near enough, Aslyn immediately placed her hand on Mick’s arm, no doubt also aware of the tension radiating through him. “Lord Mitford was in want of an introduction.” Elegantly, she turned to the man beside her. “My lord, allow me the honor of introducing my husband, Mick Trewlove, and his sister, Miss Gillian Trewlove. The Earl of Mitford.”
“My pleasure,” the earl said. “I have always found our affairs far too restricted and am always intrigued when I meet someone not born into our ranks. I am familiar with your success, Mr. Trewlove. Well done, I say.”
“Thank you, my lord,” Mick said, although he didn’t sound particularly grateful by the praise. “My sister is a success in her own right.”
“Indeed.” He turned to her. The smile that wreathed his face made his otherwise bland features more interesting. She took an immediate liking to him. “How might you have achieved your success, Miss Trewlove?”
“By hard work.”
He laughed. “I daresay I stepped into it with my thoughtless question. In what endeavor, might I ask?”
“I own a tavern.”
“How intriguing. I don’t suppose you’d be kind enough to honor me with the next dance.”
“I’d be delighted.”
“Splendid. Shall we?” He began to offer his arm, stopped, looked at Mick. “If that is agreeable to your brother.”
“Gillie doesn’t need my permission,” Mick said. “She does as she pleases.”
“How intriguing. Quite independent, are you, Miss Trewlove?”
“I tend to be, yes.”
He offered his arm once more, not hesitating this time. “You must tell me all about your tavern during our dance.”
The next tune began, and she found herself circling the dance floor with him. He wasn’t quite as accomplished as Thorne, but then she had to admit she was probably biased. He asked her a series of questions and responded to each of her answers with, “How intriguing” before asking the next. Until at last she asked, “Do you attend many balls, my lord?”
“Have I stepped upon your toes so many times that my social graces are being called into question?” There was a twinkling in his eyes.
“No, my lord, but you do seem a bit nervous.”
“You are quite right. Much to my family’s disappointment, I’d rather be off reading a book, but my sister wished to attend tonight and as my mother was feeling poorly, it was left to me to escort her. She has high hopes of catching the eye of the Duke of Thornley and ultimately becoming his duchess.”
Gillie’s stomach hit the floor and she somehow managed not to trip over it. “I suppose many of the ladies here tonight are hoping for that.”
“Indeed. However, after observing the manner in which the duke gazed upon you while you danced with him, I sincerely hope she fails in her efforts. She’d not be at all happy married to a man who loved someone else.”
She shook her head. “You’re mistaken there. The duke and I are merely friends.”
“The advantage to being a wallflower, even a gentleman wallflower, Miss Trewlove, is that one becomes a keen observer. May I introduce you to my sister? I think she might benefit from knowing you.”
