Page 1 of A Duchess Bound (Dukes of Dominance #2)

“ W e are going to be late!”

Lady Dorothy Leedway, sister of Elias, the Duke of Reeds, jumped at the sound of her brother’s booming voice.

He was usually a jovial, mild-tempered man, but she heard the note of anxiety reverberating in his voice.

It would not do to be late for the first ball of the Season, much less for their sister Bridget’s first-ever ball.

Dorothy halted abruptly, nearly colliding with her brother in the foyer. Elias’s blue eyes held as much frantic energy as his voice. “We are nearly ready!” Dorothy exclaimed, waving a wild bouquet of roses and lilies, pulled fresh from the gardens. “Amelia is dressing Bridget’s hair right now!”

Her brother opened his mouth to respond, likely to protest that the preparations were taking too long, but Dorothy did not wait. Instead, she darted past him, nearly leaping up the staircase, in a cloud of pale pink skirts and dark blonde ringlets.

She rounded onto the floor containing her sister’s bedchamber and swept in without preamble. Bridget was seated before a mirror, having her curls carefully arranged by her lady’s maid, Amelia.

At her entrance, Amelia started so suddenly that her arm swung back and struck a glass bottle of perfume. The bottle shattered to the ground, and its perfume’s contents spread like lightning across the sky.

Amelia shrieked. “I apologize, my lady!”

Bridget jumped and turned to face Dorothy. Her sister’s blue eyes were wild. “We should have already left!” she exclaimed.

“We have nearly finished,” Dorothy said. “Amelia, take care not to tread on the glass, but leave it for now. We must see to Bridget.”

Bridget had already dressed in her white gown, a beautifully crafted garment decorated with white embroidery and embellished with tiny pearls. A blue sash emphasized her sister’s slender waist.

Bridget looked beautiful. Dorothy’s chest clenched. Her sister would have no difficulty in procuring a match, and once Bridget was wed, there would only be Elias. Dorothy had resigned herself to a single life for the sake of her siblings.

But it looked as though her role would soon be unneeded. What would she be, then?

“Those flowers are beautifully chosen,” Amelia said, relieving Dorothy of the bouquet. “Thank you, my lady.”

“Of course,” Dorothy said, her gaze sweeping once more over her sister.

Jewelry! Dorothy crossed the room and opened the jewelry box, her heart racing. She shifted through the options, discarding necklaces and earrings with a wild restlessness.

At last, she found a gold necklace with a tiny, twinkling sapphire. It would be the perfect complement to Bridget’s gown. Dorothy laid it aside, searching for a suitable pair of earrings.

“I am already so flustered!” Bridget exclaimed. “Oh! What will I do if I arrive at the ball and am already in a state of disarray?”

“That will not happen,” Dorothy replied.

She had found the earrings. Dorothy gathered the jewelry in her hands and hurried back to where her sister sat. Amelia dutifully pulled Bridget’s hair into an elegant chignon and was in the process of artfully adding the small blossoms.

“How do you know?” Bridget asked. “Oh! I will arrive flushed and distressed, and no man will want to look at me! I flush just like Catherine!”

Catherine was their sister, the Duchess of Sarsen, and she did not blush prettily.

None of the Leedway sisters did. Rather than delicate sweeps of color over their cheekbones, their blushes were always needlessly dramatic.

They were inelegant spatters of color that spread all over their necks and chests.

“You will have time to be calm in the carriage,” Dorothy said, fastening the necklace for her sister. “Besides, Catherine managed to marry. There is no reason why you should not.”

After all, it was not as though Bridget was a spinster. Dorothy felt a sharp twinge in her own chest. She had devoted her life to her siblings, selflessly refusing to marry, but now, she was far too old for any man to wed.

That feeling was best left unexplored, for time was of the essence.

“But those were strange circumstances!” Bridget exclaimed, her voice pitching higher. “Mine are entirely different!”

“You will still be fine,” Dorothy said. “You look beautiful, and the carriage will provide you with ample time to calm your nerves.”

Dorothy did not entirely believe that, for she suspected that Bridget’s heart would be beating like a caged bird during the entire journey. Hers certainly would have been.

“Finished!” Amelia declared.

“The earrings are left,” Dorothy said.

Bridget hurriedly took them, forcing the earrings into her ears. “I hope you are right!”

“Slippers!” Amelia exclaimed, producing them.

Bridget all but flew from the bench upon which she had been seated. She put on the slippers and ran across the room. Dorothy followed.

They thundered down the stairs, reaching the foyer more quickly than they ever had before. Elias’s head snapped in their direction. He took a quick, sharp glance over both of them. “Beautiful,” he said. “We have to go.”

He did not wait to see if his sisters followed, but of course, they did. They gathered their shawls at the door and hurried down the steps to the waiting carriage.

Edward, the footman, had already opened the carriage door. Bridget gathered her skirts and climbed inside, her breath coming in quick bursts. Dorothy found her own heart racing, blood roaring to her ears. She settled onto the cushion, Elias bounding inside only seconds later.

“I feel as though we have forgotten something important,” Elias said without preamble.

“Do not say that,” Dorothy said.

She was also wondering the same thing.

The carriage door was shut.

“It is because we left so quickly,” Dorothy said. “I am certain that we have remembered everything. Three siblings, all dressed for the Earl of Westerly’s ball. What else might we need?”

Elias furrowed his brow. “Dance cards?”

Bridget held up her wrist.

“I have mine, also,” Dorothy said.

Elias took a deep breath of air. As the carriage jerked into sudden motion, he swept aside the curtain covering the window and took stock of their surroundings. Although it was not yet dark, it was well past sunset. They should have left at least half an hour earlier.

Now, there was the agonizing ride to the ball during which anything might go amiss.

“It will be fine,” Elias said, with the air of a man who was trying to reassure himself. “We will be slightly late, but that will not be a great catastrophe.”

“Only a small catastrophe?” Bridget asked weakly.

“Not even that,” Dorothy said. “We will arrive a little late.”

“What if I am forced to become a wallflower?” Bridget asked. “What if the gentlemen have already promised all their dances to other ladies?”

“That will not happen,” Dorothy said. “I am certain that there will still be many gentlemen who are eagerly searching for partners.”

She hoped that was true. It made sense for that to be true. Still, Dorothy could not help but imagine a horrific night wherein her sister was forced to be a wallflower during her very first ball.

“If there is a shortage of potential gentlemen, Elias will dance with you first,” Dorothy said. “That will garner some interest.”

“Will it?” Elias asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes. Bridget is an exquisite dancer,” Dorothy said. “That will make her more noticeable.”

“All the ladies are exquisite dancers,” Bridget countered, color rising to her face. “Oh dear! What will I do if no one wants to dance? I am certain that I will die of humiliation!”

“That will not happen.”

Although Dorothy kept her voice soft and encouraging, she could not deny that it might happen. All the ladies of the ton were equally beautiful, yet some of them would always find themselves becoming wallflowers.

“If it does, your sister and I will find suitors for you,” Elias said. “I promise that you will not be resigned to being a wallflower.”

Bridget bit her lip. Her eyes darted between Elias and Dorothy. She looked like a frightened animal, caught unaware by a hunter.

“It will be well,” Dorothy said. “I promise, Bridget.”

“Right.” Bridget let out a ragged breath of air. “Everything will be fine.”

Dorothy clasped her hands so tightly together that her knuckles were white. “If it is any consolation, Catherine was equally nervous for her first ball.”

Dorothy had not been anxious upon her entrance to society, for she had known already that she would not wed. Without the pressure of having to find a suitor, a lady’s introduction to the ton was significantly less taxing on the nerves.

She had been nervous at Catherine’s introduction, though, and her nerves had grown increasingly strained with every ball and soiree that passed without producing a match.

Elias cleared his throat. “It also took some time for Catherine to secure a match, so even if this first ball is not what you imagined, there will be many more opportunities. You will find a suitor.”

The rest of the journey passed in near silence. Dorothy counted her breaths, trying to force herself into a state of calm. She had nearly succeeded, but her efforts were all undone the moment that they entered the ballroom.

“Oh, dear!” Bridget exclaimed, grasping Dorothy’s arms. “There are so many people.”

“I know,” Dorothy said. “But fear not. Do you see that a few gentlemen are already looking at you?”

She gestured to a cluster of young men speaking to one another in one corner of the ballroom.

Some of them were distracted with other ladies or one another, but at least three of them had already turned their attention to Bridget.

Their gazes were curious, and their lips curled into sly smiles.

One of them would eventually find the courage to approach.

“I will be here to guide you,” Dorothy murmured. “If any gentlemen are unsuitable, I will turn them away. All you must do tonight is dance and enjoy yourself.”

Bridget took a shuddering breath. She nodded and smiled, the gesture only a little hesitant. “Right. Thank you. I would be devastated if I found myself falling to a rake’s charms!”

“I know. Fear not! I shall not let that happen.”

Dorothy’s eyes swept over the ball, searching. The cluster of gentlemen had not yet decided which of them would approach Bridget. One of them would. Had her sister garnered any other attention?

She spied Elias, joining some of his companions. Most of them would not make suitable partners, for Elias himself was something of a rake. His rakish friends would be unsuitable.

A shiver traced the path of Dorothy’s spine, and she had the sensation of being watched. She turned her head, searching for the source of her sudden unease. It did not take her long to find him.

A man watched her. Or more accurately, he watched Bridget.

“Is it taking too long?” Bridget asked.

“No,” Dorothy replied distractedly.

She could not recall the man’s name, but he seemed familiar.

Dorothy supposed that she must have seen him before.

To call him handsome was to do him a disservice, for the man appeared to be a perfect specimen of masculinity.

If he had any flaws, they were not found in either his face or body.

He was tall and broad-shouldered, his torso narrowing to a trim waist. Perhaps, some of it was padding, but Dorothy suspected not.

His face was a thing of beauty. A strong jaw with high cheekbones and intense hazel eyes that gleamed like gold in the flickering firelight of the ballroom. The man’s dark hair was a little unfashionably long, but it suited him. It lent him an air of mystery.

Something hot awakened in Dorothy. Her heart lodged itself in her throat as she watched. He began walking towards them.

Dorothy’s breath hitched. “It appears that at least one gentleman is interested in meeting you,” she said.

The words were forced from her throat, painfully and haphazardly. What had come over her? She was searching for suitors for Bridget ’s sake, for it was assuredly she who had drawn this man’s attention.

He would never be looking like that at Dorothy.

No man would.