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Nora knew for a fact that Haywood wasn’t coming, because Lady Satterfield hadn’t invited him. Nora offered a bland smile and straightened, which only accentuated her height advantage over the several-inches-shorter Lady Abercrombie. “Just as I’m certain he will not be in attendance. This is a rather exclusive event, you see. In fact, I find myself wondering how you were invited. I’m confident that mistake won’t be repeated.”
Lady Abercrombie’s nostrils flared, but before she could mount another attack, the duke swept in and offered his arm to Nora. “Miss Lockhart, I believe I have the honor of the first dance?” His deep baritone rustled over her skin like the silk of her gown when she’d donned it earlier.
“Indeed,” Nora murmured, thrilled by his opportune attention. She didn’t bother glancing at Lady Abercrombie as they turned toward the dance floor. Nora didn’t need to see the other woman’s shock in order to appreciate it.
Oh dear. She’d behaved dreadfully. Such lapses in judgment were precisely what had thrust her into trouble in the first place. And right under the Forbidden Duke’s nose. “I shall apologize to Lady Abercrombie later,” she said.
“Why would you do that?” he asked.
Nora blinked up at him as they made their way through the throng. It seemed to part as if by magic as they entered the drawing room. “I was rather rude. I intimated that I had a say in who Lady Satterfield invites to her ball. I must also apologize to her for my presumption.”
“There won’t be a need. My stepmother would applaud your response, and even if you hadn’t informed that shrew that she’d no longer be welcome at Satterfield House, I would’ve ensured she wasn’t.”
Nora stared up at him. “Lady Satterfield would applaud my behavior?”
His eyes were intense, his answer equally so. “Enthusiastically. As do I.”
Nora suppressed a shiver. Not only did she have the complete support of Lady Satterfield, now she had the endorsement of the Forbidden Duke. Vindication rose within her, but she cautioned herself to keep her wits about her. However, she was finding that rather difficult in such close proximity to the attractive duke.
“We need to take our place,” he said, guiding her to the dance floor, where Lord and Lady Satterfield were already at the top of the line that was forming. Kendal positioned Nora to stand beside Lady Satterfield so that they were second. The musicians, set in the far corner of the makeshift ballroom, began to play, and panic seized Nora’s chest. Would she remember the steps? Would she make a fool of herself or, worse, of him?
She felt like an imposter in a scenario she’d mistakenly stumbled into. Surely someone would point her out and tell her she needed to leave. She was a pariah, an outcast. She had no place being here, let alone dancing with aduke.
But it was far too late to run away. The dance had started, and the line traveled the length of the drawing room. This dance would last quite some time, during which Nora would be the center of everyone’s attention and the source of everyone’s gossip. She could hear the exchanges now, imagined them starting up and spreading like a freshly ignited fire.
“Look at whom he chose. Who is that Nobody?”
“Don’t you remember? She ruined herself nine years ago.”
“How dreadful.”
Lord and Lady Satterfield started, dancing their way between the lines. They were rather spry, given their age.
Nora looked nervously over at the duke. “Lady Satterfield is an excellent dancer.”
“Indeed.” The rich tone of his voice soothed her rioting nerves. “She always insists on calling the first, though it’s the only set she’ll dance.”
Nora nodded. Dancing was typically reserved for the young.
She tried not to stare at her partner, but it was difficult as he was situated directly across from her and sheshouldlook at him. Look, yes, but not gape. And he was gape-worthy. His reputation suited him, for heseemedforbidden, otherworldly almost. Not in an ethereal way, but in a rustic, rough sort of manner, as if Society couldn’t possibly contain him.
Despite that or perhaps because of it, he wore his costume with ease. However, she suspected he was more comfortable in riding breeches and boots as he galloped his horse across the Lake District—she’d ascertained that was where his seat was located—his powerful thighs hugging the animal’s sides as they moved as one.
Goodness, where had that astonishing image come from?
And then it was their turn to traverse the line. She prayed she would remember the steps and focused on the music as they moved toward each other.
“You look as if you’re headed to the guillotine,” he said just loud enough for her alone to hear.
“Do I?” She tried to laugh but was afraid she sounded like a wounded bird. She longed to ask why he’d chosen her and immediately wondered if Lady Satterfield had put him up to it. She decided she didn’t want to know.
“It’s just a dance.”
The superbly absurd comment coaxed a genuine smile to her lips and alleviated some of her discomfort. “With the ‘Forbidden Duke’ who only dances once each Season. Yes, you’re quite right to characterize it that way. Thank you for putting me at ease.”
He chuckled, and like his speaking voice, it sparked a tremor that seemed to start in her bones and move outward, making her flesh tingle and her chest warm. “Don’t be nervous. And certainly don’t be nervous on my account.” He said the last with a tone so dry, she feared it might curl up and blow away in the breeze.
“That is easy for you, a duke, to say. I am just a simple girl who’s been away from London a long time.”
