Page 5 of A Bride for the Forbidden Duke (Forbidden Lords #2)

Chapter Five

“ Y our Grace,” Lady Sheridan, Henry’s aunt, curtsied. “How fine of you it is to show your face! The ton has been abuzz with talk of your return.”

Henry Banfield, Duke of Westley, thoroughly abhorred the ton ’s events and had, so far, suffered through several seasons of them. However, there had been a meeting with a lady several nights ago, and it had not left his mind since.

He was not often ruffled by anybody. Yet the woman—Robert Hartley’s sister, Lady Veronica—had been bold. Her fear had been palpable even as she met his challenges head-on.

He pretended not to notice her deep, brown eyes— deer eyes, as if caught at the end of a pistol, he thought—following him as he descended the staircase, and entered the social lion’s den. The last private thought he got before feathers promptly filled his vision was: I regret this decision already .

The music grated on his ears, the whispers wrapped around him like a vice, and although he rather loved his tailoring, the jacket was fitted, and he felt as though his cravat choked him. Like he had been shoved into the outfit to pretend to be a gentleman and endure the whims of the ton .

A navy-blue feather, and a green one, accosted him as soon as he left the staircase.

His aunt, Lady Sheridan, and her friend, Lady Lindbury, were both dressed in beautiful gowns of velvet matching their feathers. It was Lady Sheridan who had called out to him, beckoning him into their gathering.

He gave her an uneasy smile. “You know me, Lady Sheridan,” he said. “I always do aim to surprise.”

“And that you do,” Lady Lindbury cut in. “Your aunt and I were discussing which young ladies might catch your eye this evening. Is there anybody who already has, I wonder?”

Lady Veronica’s flashed through his mind. “No.”

“Then you must look!” Lady Sheridan told him, grinning happily. “It is a pleasure to see you, dearest nephew.”

“Likewise,” he answered, nodding curtly.

“I was telling Lady Lindbury how I wish your name might appear on at least five ladies’ dance cards tonight. My dream would be for my nephew to never leave the floor.”

“I am not here to dance, Lady Sheridan. You very well know my stance on?—”

“Hush now,” Lady Lindbury said. “Do not take yourself out of the game before you had begun to play.”

She gave him a sly wink, and he tensed.

Henry cleared his throat, trying to sidestep them, aware of the watchful gazes around him. They all whispered, and he was well aware of what the gossip sheet had said.

Fine , he thought. They wish for a duke of ice then I shall be exactly what they expect in the hopes it keeps them all away from me. Especially the fawning women and their fussy mamas.

He could not bear the spectacle of it all. He found it rather embarrassing for them, if anything, and he was not in the mood to hold back.

The crowd parted for a moment, and through the paired-off dancers, he spotted Robert Hartley’s sister, Lady Veronica, clad in a silver gown that glimmered beneath the chandelier lights. Ire flared in him, and he did not know why it was accompanied with a flush of heat, but he turned away from her sharply.

She was insolent, he thought. And far too loose tongued for her own good. These mamas taught their daughters how to behave properly, did they not?

And yet… she had not been a simpering fool, either. Which did he prefer? A woman who did not know how to be obedient and follow simple etiquette rules, or a fool who tripped over her own feet in an attempt to impress him?

Before he could move further into the ballroom and escape the two meddlesome women, they began to pepper him with questions.

“How long are you staying, Your Grace?” Lady Sheridan asked.

Before he could answer, Lady Lindbury was there. “How was your journey from Westley Manor, Your Grace?”

He grimaced, fighting the urge to loosen his collar in a show of annoyance. “Will you let me answer one question before throwing another at me?”

Lady Sheridan paid him no mind. “Your jacket is astounding! Where did you have it made? Is it from your own tailor? Do you wish for a recommendation from right here in the city?”

“No,” he answered, not bothering to answer the first question. He did not want recommendations; he wanted them to hush.

“Do you wish to attend tea with Lady Sheridan and I next week?” Lady Lindbury asked.

He gave a cool look. “No.”

“You will need more words than that if you wish to find a wife!” Lady Sheridan said excitedly. “Speaking of, what are your plans for marriage this season? It is time you took marriage seriously.”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “I do not intend?—”

“Mama, are you smothering His Grace with all your questions?” The female voice providing him a reprieve gave him deep relief.

His cousin, Nancy, showed up on the arm of a familiar man, her husband, Zachary. The Earl and Countess of Lindbury.

Lady Lindbury turned to her son while Lady Sheridan turned to her daughter.

“Well!” Lady Lindbury cried. “If it is not one of the ton ’s most notorious matches.”

“A love match indeed,” Lady Sheridan agreed. “It is a joy to see you both still so happy after all this time.”

“Especially after my son reformed from his rakish days,” Lady Lindbury tutted. “I do miss the gossip sheets at the time of your courtship. It was quite a spectacle, was it not, Lady Sheridan?”

“Indeed, it was.” She nodded, looking at the couple admiringly.

Nancy’s brown hair framed her pretty blue eyes as she smiled at him. “Your Grace, it is lovely to see you. I apologize for my mother’s eagerness. It has been some time since we got to properly speak with you.”

“You should not need to apologize for my aunt,” he said, his voice clipped. He had had quite enough. He nodded stiffly. “It is good to see you both.”“To what do we owe the pleasure of your presence, Your Grace?” Zachary asked, his voice curling around a teasing tone that Henry did not appreciate.

Henry’s eyes narrowed at his cousin’s husband, and the man cringed back, putting his hands up in surrender. “I jest only! Come on, now; we are family, are we not?”

“You are my cousin’s husband,” Henry answered matter-of-factly. “That does not make you my family.”

Lady Sheridan opened her mouth, likely to admonish him, but he kept talking.

“As to your question, Lord Lindbury, I am here on business.”

“Oh, Henry,” Lady Sheridan sighed. “For one night, will you not simply enjoy yourself?”

“To me, Lady Sheridan, business is enjoyable,” he said tersely. “And if it is done correctly, then there is no reason for it to be miserable.” His eyes flicked over Zachary. “I am looking to discuss matters with a certain Lord Samson.”

“You work too hard, nephew,” Lady Sheridan muttered. “You should enjoy yourself! Drink a little?—”

“Loosen up,” Lord Lindbury cut in.

“And dance with a lady.” At that, his aunt nudged his shoulder, irritating him.

Still, he regained composure as he kept scanning the room, pointedly avoiding Lady Veronica.

“Zachary, how about you help my cousin find Lord Samson? I am sure you know every gentleman here.”

Nancy’s eyes conveyed enough: she was saving him from the women’s pestering, and he was grateful indeed. Meeting his cousin’s gaze, Henry nodded his thanks, and she returned it with a nod of her own and a smile.

“Come on, Your Grace,” Zachary said. “Let’s find your newest business partner, shall we?”

He gestured for Henry to follow him deeper into the crowd that may as well have been a pit of snakes.

Henry lifted a brow at his cousin’s husband before striding after him.

When they had put enough safe distance between himself and the fussy women, Henry tried to relax slightly.

Already, he saw the young ladies around the room eyeing him up. They toyed with their dance cards in silent suggestion and hope, as if thinking he did not notice their ploy. They would all sorely be disappointed, for Henry had no intention of asking any woman to dance tonight.

“So, if you do not mind my asking,” Zachary spoke up as they picked up a glass of wine and moved away from the beverage stand that was positioned more by the open French doors that led into the Fernwell’s expansive gardens, “is this Lord Samson the real reason you are here? Or is there a lady who has caught your eye, per chance?”

Henry’s glare cut to the other man, silently warning him off asking further questions. “Lindbury, I do believe you are starting to sound like both your mother and your mother-in-law.”

“All right, all right.” Zachary laughed nervously. “I shall stop.”

“Good.”

“Then what is your business venture this time? A new gentleman’s club? A gambling den? Mercantile? Travel, perhaps? A new line of luxury carriages.” Zachary was adept at talking to himself, muttering about new ideas. “Of course, there is always the business of racehorses.”

“It is profitable,” Henry answered. “That is all you need to know. Unless you are Lord Samson?”

It was a challenge, and Zachary winced, backing down. “No, no. I am merely interested. Say, your business could be in tailoring, perhaps?”

Henry groaned in frustration. Zachary Forbes was as pitifully inquisitive as his mother, and Henry had no time for it.

He surveyed the ballroom, seeking the dark-haired man he was told to look out for, but instead, he saw Lady Veronica again, across the room, standing with a blonde woman who looked around the room, overwhelmed yet delighted.

Deep in his gut, desire stirred as it had back in his study when she came to visit him.

He had backed her against the wall. And although he had insulted her, his attention had been ensnared.

His eyes locked onto hers, and hers on him. She sipped at her small glass of wine, and a bead of it wet her lips. Her gloved hands were delicate as she held the glass. Henry had the sudden thought of licking away that wine droplet. Of brushing his tongue along her lower lip slowly, tasting her and the wine, or swiping his thumb to collect the droplet and pressing it to her tongue himself.

And those silk gloves…

His mind tumbled deeper into his desire, imagining pulling those gloves off her, finger by finger, his hands brushing up her arm, hearing the soft gasps she might elicit as he touched her. And how would those gloves feel on his body? Her delicate hands going further, and further…

“Ah! There is your Lord Samson fellow,” Zachary announced, snapping Henry out of his thoughts.

And rightly so, as Lady Veronica was peering back at him, an unreadable expression on her face.

Frowning, Henry glanced away and instead followed Zachary’s pointing to the raven-haired man he sought.

“Excellent,” he said. “Thank you, Lindbury.”

The two of them approached, and Henry swiftly dismissed his cousin’s husband and turned to Lord Samson.

“Lord Samson, it is good to meet you here,” Henry said, shaking the man’s hand. “I thought we could discuss our business venture some more.”

“Of course, Your Grace,” the older lord agreed. “I have many thoughts.” He turned to the men he had been chatting with. “If you will excuse me, gentlemen.”

Henry took the brief moment of Lord Samson’s parting with his group to look back at Lady Veronica.

But the space she had occupied moments before was empty.