Page 21 of A Duchess Bound (Dukes of Dominance #2)

L ord Coatney was only an acquaintance, and Gerard strongly suspected that his invitation had been offered more out of respect for his position than out of any real feelings of friendship for him. In all fairness, Gerard was not especially fond of Lord Coatney either.

His attendance at the ball was only because he knew that Lord Coatney was a close friend of the Leedway family, which meant that Lady Dorothy would likely be in attendance.

Pontoun was not present, and Gerard found himself guiltily relieved at the man’s absence.

Ever since resolving to find his one and only love-match, the man had become something dangerously close to insufferable.

All their conversations revolved around love and women, and Gerard found himself frequently resisting the urge to scream from frustration.

“Your Grace,” Lord Coatney greeted.

The man cut a large, imposing figure. He had sharp, black eyes, and something about his visage suggested a hawk who was readying to spear a mouse with his talons.

Gerard vaguely recalled having an instinctive fear of him during their first meeting, but then, Gerard had only been a lad of four-and-ten years.

“Lord Coatney,” Gerard said. “It is a pleasure to join you tonight.”

He had too much dignity to ask if the Leedways had arrived.

“It looks as though it will be a splendid evening,” Gerard added, gesturing to the row of carriages which had arrived behind him.

“Indeed,” Lord Coatney said.

Gerard entered the house. He did not need to ask where the ballroom was, for a legion of footmen stood ready to guide him.

Once he reached it, he paused in the doorway.

A spirited waltz already rang in the air, and the ton danced together.

Ladies’ skirts bloomed like flower petals as they twirled, and the gentlemen’s dark jackets—mostly black, navy, and charcoal—cut sharply through the brightness.

Where was his favorite lady? Gerard’s eyes swept over the crowd. He did not find Lady Dorothy, but Lady Bridget was easily distinguishable. She wore a pale pink gown and danced with a gentleman—Lord Eldridge, if he was not mistaken. He looked besotted with her.

Well, if Lady Bridget was dancing, Lady Dorothy must be nearby. Gerard doubted anything could cause her to abandon her beloved sister. At last, the dance ended, and Gerard stepped forward.

“Lady Bridget,” he said.

The lady spun around, her eyes wide with surprise. “Your Grace!” she exclaimed, dipping into a flawless curtsey.

She was so nubile and innocent, quite unlike the elder sister. “Is your dance card full?” Gerard asked.

The ball had only just begun, but he had seen the young lady’s popularity.

She fumbled for a moment, her fingers struggling to grasp the card. When she did, her eyes quickly searched the names. “There is one dance left, Your Grace. I should?—”

“What are you doing?” Lady Dorothy’s voice cut through him like a dagger, and Gerard withheld a grin.

He glanced at the elder Leedway sister, a beautiful, rosy color rising to her cheeks. “I was asking Lady Bridget if she might like to dance with me,” Gerard said, forcing his face into the very picture of innocence. “Do you have some reason for interfering?”

“I would prefer that my sister dance only with respectable gentlemen.”

Gerard inhaled sharply, letting his eyes deliberately linger on Lady Dorothy’s full bosom, cradled gently by her blue gown.

He hoped that she noticed. “My lady,” he said.

“What a cruel accusation to make! I have only honorable designs towards your sister. It would be a pity to leave her dance card with an empty space.”

“It will not be empty by the night’s end,” Lady Dorothy said sharply.

“Do you have the powers to see into the far-flung future?” Gerard asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I do not need such powers to know that my sister is highly desirable. She will find a suitable partner.”

“Am I not suitable? I am wounded by your cruel words.”

“I doubt that.”

“Do you believe that I am unfeeling? That I shall take an insult without feeling the sting of it?” Gerard asked, arching an eyebrow. “Why, I am surprised by you, my lady.”

Lady Dorothy glanced at her sister. “Do not let this rogue persuade you to dance with him,” she said, taking Lady Bridget’s hand in hers. “You deserve a better man than he, and I feel no guilt in saying so.”

Gerard feigned a sharp, surprised inhale of breath. Was she jealous? Oh, that would be delicious!

“Lord Southampton!” Lady Bridget exclaimed in a transparent attempt to break the awkwardness between the three of them. “Shall we dance?”

Ever eager to please a lady, Lord Southampton swooped in and spared Lady Bridget from continuing the conversation. Gerard raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. “That was cruel, Lady Dorothy. I wished to dance.”

“Not with my sister!” she hissed. “You know that.”

He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and took a long, leisurely look at her. “I see,” he drawled. “I am suitable for you, but not for your sister. Or have you decided to keep me all to yourself?”

She tipped her chin up defiantly. “Do not speak so loudly,” she hissed beneath her breath. “Someone might hear you.”

“No one is paying us any mind,” he said, as the music swelled around them. “I promise.”

“You cannot possibly know that.”

Gerard only smiled. He could not fault her logic, but he suspected that it was true, nonetheless. The ton did not care to watch spinsters like Lady Dorothy, who had resolved to wed no one. They were all much too concerned with their own prospects and those of young, unmarried misses.

“Shall we dance, then?” he asked. “They will assume that I am only teasing you and that you have kindly obliged.”

Lady Dorothy clenched her jaw, her eyes alight with anger. “I have asked that you not vex my sister.”

“She did not seem to find me vexing.”

“It is impossible to find you anything besides vexing.”

Still, she offered her hand. He took it carefully, tracing his thumb over her gloved knuckles.

Only a week ago, he had bound rope against those delicate wrists.

He wondered if Lady Dorothy had returned home with marks as evidence of their amorous encounter, if she had spent the past several days resolving to hide the proof of her indiscretion.

Gerard fluidly began the dance, Lady Dorothy matching his steps seamlessly. “I believe the waltz is my favorite dance,” he murmured, low enough so that only she could hear. “Would you like to know why?”

“You are going to say something perverse.”

He grinned lazily. “You think so little of me.”

“For good reason.”

“So you say. But are you the best judge of a man’s character, my lady?

” He let his voice soften just a little, for he meant to tease rather than upset the lady about her recent, decidedly ungenteel behavior.

“Rather than chastising me for being a rake, maybe you ought to reconsider your definition of what a good man is.”

He spun her around, and her eyes gleamed. “I do not need to reconsider anything,” she said. “You know what you are just as well as I do.”

“I cannot argue with that. But do you recognize the ambiguity in such words? If that is your only rebuttal, I may very well be a good man.”

She grimaced. It was impossible to say if she was more vexed by his rhetorical trap or the truth of what they both knew.

“You are detestable,” she said.

“Such harsh words!”

They danced for a while longer, and once the dance ended, she dropped his hand as though he had burned her. Gerard let his linger at the small of her back, enjoying the warmth of the lady’s skin beneath his grasp.

He leaned close, nearly to the point of impropriety, and chuckled. “My lady,” he murmured. “You do not seem as though you are submitting. Perhaps, I shall have to punish you again.”

Her breath audibly hitched.

Feeling victorious, he grinned. “Are you familiar with Shakespeare’s The Taming of the Shrew ?”

Her face hardened. “Yes.”

“That play reminds me of you.”

“Strange, I would have said the same,” Lady Dorothy said. “You do seem like the manner of man who would seek to break a woman’s spirit until she agreed with your rather distasteful view of the world.”

Gerard’s eyes searched hers carefully, trying to find even an ounce of regret. The chase was no longer enjoyable if a lady detested him. He found nothing of the sort. “Is that truly what you believe?” he asked lowly. “You have only to ask me to stop, and I shall.”

Her spine straightened, and her eyes fixed upon his face with such sharpness that his heart raced.

“Is that so? I feel as though you would say that and haunt me forever if I refused.”

The next dance began, and Lady Dorothy hurried away from the spinning couples. Gerard followed.

“No,” he said. “I would not haunt you forever.”

She halted abruptly, her shoulders tense. Gerard’s eyes traced the shape of her elegant neck all the way down her spine. Lady Dorothy was so shapely and lovely that she ought to be the model of some exceptionally talented artist.

“Truly?” He barely heard her.

“Truly,” Gerard echoed, his voice soft. “I do not go where I am unwanted.”

And he meant it. While Gerard had an insatiable appetite for ladies, he only wanted those who wanted him in return. There was nothing more detestable than a gentleman who imposed himself against a lady’s will.

Lady Dorothy sighed and took a breath, which seemed to shudder in her chest. She turned to him and smiled, the gesture tentative. “That is a relief to know, Your Grace.”

He smiled.

“Then, I assume that you will kindly cease these attempts at courtship with my sister,” Lady Dorothy continued, her expression hardening. “She has no desire for a man like you.”

Gerard knew that Lady Dorothy’s concern was for her sister’s reputation, but he dared to think that—perhaps—a small part of the lady’s warning came from a desire to keep him all for herself.

“And I have told you that I am uninterested in your sister,” Gerard said.

“I find myself unable to believe you.”

He laughed heartily. “Why? I have given you no reason to think otherwise.”

“Because your behavior is putting me and Bridget in jeopardy! We cannot be seen associating with a rake. It will ruin my sister’s prospects for the Season. I do not imagine this fact is unsurprising to you.”

“It is not. I am a little saddened, however.”

Lady Dorothy’s eyes flitted past him. “I must speak to Bridget.”

Gerard blinked; he was a little startled. He turned his head to see if Lady Bridget had, indeed, some need of her sister. Gerard assumed not, for Lady Dorothy had seemed simply eager to be rid of him.

But Lady Dorothy approached her sister and gently adjusted the right sleeve of her sister’s gown.

The two ladies exchanged words, too softly for Gerard to hear.

Of course, he could have stepped forward and joined their conversation, but doing so did not feel right.

Lady Dorothy’s face was so soft when she gazed at her sister, and Lady Bridget’s face was flushed with happiness.

Something warm stirred in his chest. Did Lady Dorothy know how fortunate she was to be a part of such a loving family?

One who seemed to delight in one another’s company?

He sighed softly and tried to force away the forever-angry face of his father and the coldness that filled the halls of his ancestral home.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” Lord Coatney asked, joining him.

“I am,” Gerard said absentmindedly. “Very much.”

Lady Dorothy and Lady Bridget parted ways, the elder sister going to her brother’s side. Gerard’s lips twitched in amusement, his mind devising the next encounter with the charming spinster.