Page 5 of A Lady’s Dangerous Secret (Scandalous Secrets #1)

Despite dreading a waltz with a geriatric aristocrat, her mood was lighter after meeting Beatrice and Eleanor.

She had never had any true friends besides Arthur growing up.

High Crest Hall was a vast estate without nearby peers of the Realm whose children would be suitable acquaintances for her.

Thus, Arthur had begged their parents to allow him to be tutored at home for as long as possible.

When he finally left for Eton, Charlotte would play with the children of the estate’s tenants or staff.

As she grew older, though, her status as the earl’s daughter created a barrier she could not overcome.

She assumed the Season too would be lonely, especially because Arthur was often immersed in his governmental affairs and took no interest in Society events.

Now, she had a glimmer of hope she would not have to navigate the ton alone.

The transition back into the chaos of the ballroom was jarring.

Aunt Frances appeared immune and deftly maneuvered them through the crush.

Sooner than expected, Charlotte was standing in front of two gentlemen vastly older than her.

The first man appeared to be at the start of his seventh decade with a portly figure and thinning black hair sprinkled with gray.

The second man looked younger than him and decidedly trimmer.

He had sandy-blond hair with a dusting of white in his modest side-whiskers.

“Your Grace,” her aunt said, as they both dipped into deep curtsies, then straightened. “Westcliffe, Lord Finch. May I present my niece, Lady Charlotte Tipton.

After Charlotte raised her head, she started to turn toward the stout man assuming he was His Grace.

But the taller man with the athletic frame reached for her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lady Charlotte.” A pair of kind, hazel eyes looked at her. “May I have the honor of the next dance?”

“Yes, Your Grace,” Charlotte stammered. The neither frail nor ancient duke offered his arm.

As they walked, she stole a glance at the Duke and his imposing profile.

This was not the man she was expecting. He looked to be a similar age as her own father, but that was where the similarities ended.

The Earl of Pulverbatch enjoyed the finer aspects of life.

Charlotte pictured her sire’s protruding abdomen and ruddy face, much like that of her eldest brother, Henry.

The two were content sitting about, drinking brandy, and living a life of leisure, only exerting themselves for an obligatory hunt or ride through the park.

The Duke, on the other hand, was clearly a Corinthian.

The musicians played the first chords of yet another waltz.

Lady Stanhope had really outdone herself.

The Duke gracefully positioned himself before he swept Charlotte into his arms. While they moved across the dance floor, he looked down at her with a tender look that seemed like it could be paternal.

It was her best guess since her own father never looked at her in such a way.

They danced in silence at first, which she appreciated.

She needed time to get used to her partner.

She felt surprisingly comfortable with the Duke, similar to how she felt dancing with the Earl of Carrington.

It was the opposite of the riot of emotions she experienced with Captain Silverstone, though she did not have the luxury to dwell further on that maddening man.

She needed a titled husband as quickly as possible.

Before meeting the Duke, Charlotte had already crossed His Grace off her mental list of prospects, but now, he was at the top. And time was not on her side.

The Duke broke the silence in his soothing voice, “I’m glad you still had a dance open. I’m sorry for making it to the ball later than anticipated.”

Charlotte could not help but genuinely smile at his humble statement.

He was neither brash nor arrogant as she assumed was a requirement of his station.

“You must be busy with your ducal duties. My aunt made sure I saved a dance for you.” Charlotte cringed at her insipid comment but she was sticking to the only subjects she was allowed to discuss: the weather, the gentleman’s interests, or the weather.

The Duke chuckled. “I would not call it ducal duties, per se. I have four daughters. Two are married, but the younger ones still live with me. I had to check on them before leaving for the ball.”

His eyes were warm with a hint of melancholy she could not quite pinpoint.

She would have never thought of any nobleman, especially a duke, giving a second thought about his daughters.

Based on her own father, she knew firsthand how a typical aristocratic family functioned.

Yes, she had made the right decision in choosing His Grace.

“It sounds like they are lucky to have such a caring father,” she replied honestly.

The Duke’s shoulders subtly shrugged before he expertly maneuvered them around another couple.

“After their mother passed away two years ago, I’m afraid we have all been a bit out of sorts.

I do what I can, but I’m by no means a substitute for the guiding hand of a woman.

Luckily, I have at least a year before my next daughter comes out. ” He looked expectantly at Charlotte.

She schooled her face into a neutral expression.

Her aunt had failed to mention that not only did the Duke have four daughters, two of whom were older than her, but two had not even come out yet.

She would be the worst possible person to introduce the Duke’s youngest daughters into Society.

That issue aside, she could not imagine enduring another London Season.

She wracked her brain. There had to be another duke to consider, even one old and decrepit if that meant she could hide away in the country until presumably he died in short order.

“Do you enjoy London?” the Duke asked.

“I prefer country life. I miss riding in the hills of Shropshire.” The truth fell out of her mouth. “The crowdedness and the odors of London are only tolerable for so long.”

He chuckled. “I entirely agree with you. Alas, we must perform certain obligations to return to what we love. I think you would enjoy Kent. I have an impressive stable.”

“Your Grace…” Charlotte swallowed. She could not ignore his insinuation of marriage and tip her head coquettishly like other debutantes.

“I must be honest. I fear I would be a terrible influence on your daughters. I’m not like the other ladies in this room.

Any number of them would be much better suited to introduce your daughters into Society. ”

The music slowed, providing the Duke with time to formulate his response.

He guided her back toward her aunt. But before he deposited her at Aunt Frances’s side, His Grace paused.

“That’s why you would be the perfect woman to guide them.

I don’t want a simpering miss as my wife.

Plus, your Society arsenal would include your aunt, so I doubt you would have to lift a finger.

” He gave her a wink, then nodded and turned away, disappearing into the crowd.