Page 26 of Manufacturing a Duchess

Aurora looked directly at Missie and, for the second time that evening, surprised herself by replying calmly, without stammering or tripping over her own tongue in apology. “Did you enjoy your waltz?”

She watched her friend struggle to keep her face still, though she couldn’t help biting her lip. “It was…tolerable,” she said, but Aurora knew she had enjoyed it as well.

“It is a dangerous dance,” was all she said in reply.

“Quite.” There was a new note of bemusement in Missie’s tone, which brought the two of them into a momentary sympathy with one another.

At that moment, Lady Hinsdale appeared out of seemingly nowhere and whispered into Aurora’s ear. “Most excellent, m’dear. Most excellent.” Aurora shrank away, closer to Missie, but the woman was already swallowed up in the throng again.

“Lord, Mama, this is such a crush!” griped Missie to Lady Wentworth.

“It is, child. You are doing splendidly. The Duke of Galloway is looking quite interested. You made a handsome couple—you will be a duchess yet. The night is still young. Stand tall, daughter. You have more yet to do. And dazzle, Millicent. Dazzle.”

And Missie dazzled. She glowed. She sparkled. All eyes seemed to light on her, focus on her, wherever she went. Aurora was quite content to watch her—out-glamouring the embodiment of glamour was fruitless, and she had no desire to even attempt it.

The rest of the evening sped by. Aurora was able to dance one more dance with her duke. At least, for tonight, this was what she would call him. Unfortunately, it could not be another waltz. As he took her hand and led her into place for a country dance, he cocked an eyebrow at her, and his eyes sparkled dangerously. Remembering the conversation during their last dance, she knew she must stop him before he undid her with more Byron.

“Perhaps ‘All thou know’st do not speak,’ Your Grace” she said, as calmly as she could muster.

There was no opportunity to talk for a few minutes as they swung in and out of the dance’s patterns. When they were next reunited, he said with deceptive mildness, “I find the weather at present exceedingly pleasant. Almost as it would be in Greece this time of year. Do you find it so, Miss Hardcastle?”

The light of mischief in his eyes, however, strongly belied the innocence of his tone. As a result, her attempt at a reply came out more as a snort of laughter. Looking entirely too pleased with himself, he swung away into the next pattern.

The feel of his hand on her waist returned every time she looked at him. The ice had been broken between them. His teasing was gentle and created an intimacy she found comforting in the midst of what felt like an increasingly unfriendly obstacle course. But all too soon, their second dance was over. He escorted her back to her chaperone and kissed her hand in farewell. Then he was gone, across the ballroom.

As they departed from the night’s festivities, she could not stop her eyes from searching the room for him. But he seemed to have vanished.

Aurora did not wake up early the next morning. When she did, she felt heavy and dull, and all-around out-of-sorts. She had not slept well. Her dreams had been haunted by a pair of dark eyes and a remembered heat in her body in places she was not used to feeling so.

Perhaps it is true the waltz is not a safe dance for one’s health. But she could not suppress the longing to do it again.

* * *

Letting go of Miss Hardcastle’s hand had been extraordinarily difficult. It required all Alec’s self-discipline to lead her calmly off the dance floor and deposit her at her chaperone’s side.

Deuce take it, I need a drink, and he headed off in search of something. He found nothing of much help on offer (Almack’s hostesses were exceedingly proper), so he had to content himself with a glass of punch and the promise of something stronger when he returned to his rooms. It was time to go in search of Finn, so they could make their good-byes. He forced himself to exhale. But that could wait a moment. He needed to compose himself after that unexpectedly extraordinary waltz. He could still feel the warmth of her body pressed against his. What was this young woman doing to him? Even in the first flush of his love for Mary, he had never responded in quite this way. And now he was an experienced man of the world, a campaigner in so many respects.

How was he going to get any sleep tonight? He needed a drink. Or three. And, no, he would decidedly not say anything to his cousin. This was all about business. Yes, business. He must keep his head. Business.

When he returned to the room where the dances were taking place, he realized that he was too late to see Miss Hardcastle’s departure. Was that relief he felt? Or chagrin? He decided to try to ignore his own thoughts, finally spotted Finn, and went to collect him for their departure. He stayed silent the entire carriage ride to his rooms. Finn blissfully let him be.

Twenty-Two

The next day, Alec sat down rather heavily in the chair across from his cousin at their club. The attendant popped up at his elbow and Alec requested a whisky. Finn was studiously reading his paper and pointedly ignoring him until Alec finally said, “Oh, Finn, I mean, Henry—leave off. How is your head today?”

Finn set down the paper and directed a keen eye at him. “My head is fine. I,” and he hit the word with a particular emphasis, “did not over-indulge last night.”

“Nonsense. I was exceedingly well behaved. No excess of any kind. Well, all right. I desperately needed to add a little something to the punch after that waltz. Alas, nothing was at hand. I did find some recompense in front of my hearth at home.”

“Oh, truly terrible, was it?”

Alec suddenly found something absolutely fascinating to look at over his cousin’s left shoulder. He was staring at it so intently, Finn started to turn around.

“Tolerable,” came out rather abruptly.

Finn’s head whipped back to look at Alec. As Alec said nothing further, Finn leaned back in his chair. Steepling his fingers, he assumed an air of studied patience. “Do tell.”

“First you tell me. How was your waltz with the Incomparable?”