Page 19 of The Duke of Deceit

She took a quick step to Lucien’s side. The Duke of Crewe might be the unlikeliest of knights in shining armor, but at that moment, she didn’t have a choice. Better the devil she knew than the devil she didn’t.Sort of.

Lucien ignored Caulderfield and turned toward Jess, holding out his hand and sketching a bow. “Miss St Claire, I would be honored to escort you on a turn about the room.”

She knew enough to accept help when it was offered. “Thank you,” she rasped out and gave him her hand.

Without another look at Caulderfield, Lucien placed her hand on his arm and slowly led her off the dance floor.

Whispers went up around them as the thin crowd parted to let them pass. Now that the would-be spectacle was over—acute disappointment filled the room that fisticuffs hadn’t broken out after all—the couples launched into the waltz as if nothing had been amiss. But even from across the room, she could see Aunt Matilda’s curious stare and knew the carriage ride home would be nothing but a barrage of questions. About Lucien.

At that moment, Jess had no answers to give…including why she was still letting him lead her around the room.

“Are you all right?” he asked quietly.

She nodded. “Mr. Caulderfield is more bluster than blows.” She let out a long sigh. “You didn’t have to interfere like that. He would have released me when he finally figured out that I truly cannot waltz.”

“When you stomped repeatedly on his toes, you mean?”

“And kicked his shins.” She slanted him a glance as he led her toward the far end of the ballroom. “So why did you do that?”

“Because Caulderfield was being an arse.” His muscles flexed beneath her fingers, and she could still feel the anger coursing through him. She didn’t doubt how much he would have enjoyed beating the daylights out of Caulderfield if she hadn’t spoken up. “Any gentleman would have done the same.”

“No, they wouldn’t have. So why didyoudo that?” She arched a brow. “You’re certainly not a gentleman.”

“It’s not enough to think I might have simply wanted to help you?”

“No.”

The cold bluntness of her answer made him chuckle. “Then how about so I could ask if you wanted to attend the annual art and book exhibition with me at Somerset House? After all, I hear I’m sponsoring it this year.”

Jess tripped over her own feet. She would have landed on her face if Lucien hadn’t grabbed her arm to catch her and hold her upright, yet anyone watching would barely have noticed a bobble in her gait.

Butshenoticed that when they walked on, he stood closer than before.

She pulled in a deep breath to gather herself. “Yes, you are,” she said with a broad—if forced—smile. “How generous of you.”

“Rehabilitating my reputation must be costing you a small fortune.”

More than you realize.“I’ll do whatever it takes to help my sister.”

“I admire that, I truly do. Siblings should take care of each other. Always.”

“Good. Then you—”

“But in this, you’re wrong.”

They reached the long row of French doors that opened onto the garden terrace. Instead of continuing their circuit of the room, he guided her toward the outdoors.

She stopped. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Finding a spot where we can talk without being overhead.” The look he cast over her was one of warning, even if it tingled the bare skin of her upper arms. “You and I have a great deal to discuss, Jessamyn.”

“Stop calling me that. And I amnotgoing into the darkness with you.”

“It’s not dark. The terrace is lit with lamps.” He cast a crestfallen glance through the door. “Sadly.”

“Everyone is watching.”A lie.The partygoers had grown bored already with the two of them and returned to dancing, gossiping, and drinking. Only Aunt Matilda continued to watch them from the other side of the room with a peculiar expression on her face. But Jess had a ready excuse. “They’ll think you’ve returned to your old rakish ways if I walk off with you, and all my hard work will be undone.”

“How awful.”