Dancing she could manage. That was certainly easier than talking to Henry, who had at some point in the past few years transformed from being William’s gangly friend to the only object of her romantic affections.
They bowed to each other and began their dance. The duke’s gloved hand rested lightly on her waist, but she was so aware of it that his touch seemed to burn right through the light silk of her dress, her shift, and petticoats to her very skin.
Charlotte swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry as she concentrated on keeping up with the steps. The duke was an accomplished dancer, and Charlotte was all too aware of his lean hips and long, muscled thighs in his tight breeches.
“Thank you for asking me to dance,” she murmured, finding herself unable to meet his eyes. “I’m sure I would have been left in the corner otherwise.”
“That’s only because you and your friends insist on hiding there all night at every ball.” He chuckled. “Anyone would think you were avoiding someone.”
Charlotte wasn’t sure what to say. She turned with the movements of the dance, glad to have a minute to gather her thoughts. The fact that he had noticed her and her habits…. It made her pulse quicken in her throat.
“Of course, that’s a godsend for me,” the duke went on in his easy tone. “There are far too many pushy mothers waiting for me to dance with their daughters.”
Charlotte felt a crushing disappointment in her stomach. She had expected as much, but even so…. Was he always going to see her as no more than a friend? Not even that, but a friend’s little sister?
“So, I’m rescuing you from their machinations?” She tried to smile, but her face felt tight.
Henry didn’t seem to notice. “I’d like to think we’re rescuing each other. I saw the Earl of Banbury looking at you rather intently over his glass earlier. Apparently, he was asking William how your betrothal prospects were going.”
“Really?” Charlotte gaped at him, nearly losing her steps in the dance. The earl was old and a notorious fortune hunter, having gambled away most of his inheritance. Charlotte’s dowry wasn’t particularly impressive, but it would certainly be welcome to a man like the earl.
The dance ended too soon, and Henry bowed and held his arm out to her. “I’ll escort you back to your friends.”
Charlotte knew he was simply avoiding being expected to ask another young lady for the next dance, but a blush heated her cheeks as she nodded. Unfortunately, before she could take his arm, another man stepped in front of her, bowing deeply and spilling a drop of champagne on her slippers as he did so.
The Earl of Banbury.
“May I have the pleasure of this dance, Lady Charlotte?” His jowls wobbled as he smiled at her, showing his bad teeth.
Charlotte shot a horrified look at the duke, who merely shrugged as though to say, “I told you so.”
The earl saw her look and frowned at the duke. “You can’t be expecting to have the next dance with this fair lady as well, YourGrace? Give the rest of us a chance, won’t you?” He brayed a laugh that reminded Charlotte of a donkey.
Henry inclined his head. “You’re correct, of course.”
He shot Charlotte a look of sympathy but then walked away, leaving her there. Charlotte looked around desperately for William but couldn’t see him through the crowd. Knowing that she couldn’t refuse the earl without seeming dreadfully rude and sparking gossip, she politely offered him her hand and was pleased they were both wearing gloves or else she was certain his palm would be clammy.
The music started again, a cotillion that required, to Charlotte’s relief, less contact between partners than the previous waltz. Glancing down the line, she saw Felicity dancing with a young man who had a huge mustache. Miranda was nowhere to be seen.
“You dance very well,” the earl told her, although he seemed to be paying rather more attention to her décolletage than her feet.
“Thank you,” she said stiffly. She saw William just up ahead, dancing with the golden-haired young woman she had noticed earlier. Spotting Charlotte, he smiled with approval to see her dancing with the earl. There was to be no help from that quarter, then.
She let out a sigh of relief as the music ended, ready to escape back to her corner, but then the earl laid his gloved hand on her arm. “I would be honored to dance with you again later,” he said with an air of expectation that she would, of course, be grateful to accept.
“Oh… I… that wouldn’t be fair,” she stammered, trying to echo his own words to the duke back at him.
He gave a surprised snort, and Charlotte hurried away before he could respond, praying he wouldn’t complain about herrudeness to William—or, worse, her mother when he next saw her.
Reconvening with Felicity and Miranda back at the lemonade table, she found that Felicity looked just as uncomfortable with her own dancing experience as Charlotte had been. Miranda seemed agitated, pulling Charlotte toward them so that they created a tight ring of three.
“Have you heard about Victoria Talbot?” Miranda hissed. “I was just speaking to her sister.”
Charlotte shook her head, wondering what on earth could have happened to rile Miranda so much.
“She’s just gotten betrothed to the Duke of Wight!”
Felicity gasped. “That notorious old lecher! Why, he’s old enough to be her grandfather.”
