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Fortunately, Sebastian did not try to refute this. In the minimum, he could recognize his value when it came to his mind.
“Intelligence is considered quite attractive,” the duke said.
“In men,” she added wryly.
“Er, well, yes,” Rotherby said. “We can discuss that problematic notion another time. At present, we are focusing on Holloway. He has all the attributes that are an irresistible lure to women, and to people en masse. He only has to believe that about himself.” The duke turned to Sebastian and pointed at the door to the ballroom. “Come back into the chamber with the same confidence you’d present a paper to colleagues you’ve known for years.”
Sebastian furrowed his brow. “What’s the topic of the paper?”
“Does it matter?” Rotherby shot back. “Pick something.”
“How about the kinship structures of the Basques people located in the Guipúzcoa province?”
“That’s fine,” the duke bit out.
“Or perhaps I could focus on the Vizcaya province instead—”
“Sebastian,” Grace said gently. “Please. Just do it.”
“Yes. Right. Fine.” He flexed his hands before leaving the ballroom.
A moment later, he strode back in. His posture was upright but not stiff, his gait steady with a very slight roll. In fact, if Grace had to pick a word to describe Sebastian’s walk, she’d have to say swagger. He swaggered into the ballroom, his expression full of self-assurance, and his long body beautifully displayed.
Heat rushed through her, followed immediately by cold worry.
Oh, dear.
She could not allow herself to develop an attraction to Sebastian. Not when he’d agreed to help her ensnare the man who perfectly matched her ideal husband.
Rotherby clapped his hands together. “Much better.”
“Helps that without my spectacles,” Sebastian said with a nod, “everything is a little hazy around the edges.”
Good—hopefully he couldn’t see the way she’d salivated at the sight of him.
“Excellent progress,” the duke said. “That’s how we want you entering a space from now on.”
Sebastian pulled a small notebook and pencil from his coat. “Need to write all this down.” His pencil moved across the page, and a crease of concentration appeared between his eyebrows.
If only she also had something to occupy her attention, something to distract her from all his handsome scholarly glory. Perhaps she could practice her pianoforte. But marching to the instrument and banging out Bach in the middle of Sebastian’s rake lesson might be a trifle distracting.
“We haven’t much time,” Rotherby went on once Sebastian put the notebook away, “so we’ll move on to the next task. I want you to look at Grace.”
Fresh panic shot through her. “Look at me?” Her voice came out in a squeak. No, no. She did not want him to observe her while she attempted to disguise her awareness of him. “How?”
“Permit me to demonstrate.” The duke walked to her and came to a stop a close, but respectable, distance away.
He gazed at her. As though she was utterly fascinating. Nothing else but her mattered, his eyes told her silently.
She ought to feel dazzled . . . Ought to.
“Your thoughts, madam?” he asked.
“It was . . .” She considered it. “. . . moderately intriguing.”
“Moderately?” Rotherby grumbled.
“Pleasant enough. I didn’t feel faint, or forget that it’s three more hours until supper.” It was a relief, knowing that she could feel so little by way of attraction. Whatever it was she struggled with in relation to Sebastian, surely it could be mastered. It was merely a bump in the long road of their friendship. She could look at him and feel the same platonic camaraderie she’d always permitted herself.
The duke scowled, causing Sebastian to snort. “Fine. You try it, Holloway.”
Despite the assurances she’d given herself, dread jolted her. She didn’t want more proof that Sebastian could affect her. “Is that necessary?”
“It is,” Rotherby said. “He must practice. That’s the only way for him to overcome his fear, and to gain confidence.”
