Page 20 of Corrupting his Duchess (A Duke’s Undoing #1)

A nna returned to her seat with measured grace, though her heart had yet to settle from the dance. The hush that had accompanied their movements had lifted, but the air near her still felt curiously altered, charged and watchful.

She hadn’t fully arranged her skirts before Gretchen appeared at her side, fan half-unfurled and eyes sharp with restrained interest.

“Well,” she said quietly, “you have given the room something to whisper about.”

Julia was next, sliding in with the effortless air of someone delighted by drama. Her eyes sparkled with amusement. “That was no waltz, my dear. That was a conversation in another language, and I’d very much like the translation.”

Anna lifted her brows, lips tightening to conceal the flutter of a smile. “It was a dance.”

“A dance,” Julia echoed, aghast. “Then I shall very much like a glass of whatever brandy left you looking like that.”

Behind them, Natalie perched at the edge of her chair. “You looked... very content.”

Anna hesitated, then lowered her voice. “It was nothing.”

“Oh, come now,” Julia said, her voice lilting. “You looked rather as if he’d written you a poem with his fingertips.”

“Julia,” Gretchen murmured, her fan snapped open. “Let her breathe.”

Anna said nothing, grateful for the rescue. Still, she could feel the glances across the room, feathers shifting, fans fluttering, laughter that stopped too quickly to be natural.

Gretchen’s gaze followed hers. “Lady Winwood has nearly spilled her cordial from staring.”

“And Lady Dellington looks personally offended,” Julia added with delight. “They think you’ve ensnared him.”

Anna stiffened. “I’ve done no such thing.”

Julia leaned in with mock solemnity. “Perhaps not intentionally. But it does appear he’s rather well caught.”

Sophia had drifted near during the exchange and paused behind Anna’s chair. She said nothing. But she offered the faintest of smiles before turning away again, perfectly serene.

“Let it pass,” Gretchen said gently, resting a gloved hand over Anna’s. “They’ll tire of it once the next guest stumbles into scandal.”

“Perhaps I should do something dreadfully improper,” Julia said airily, “and save you the trouble.”

Natalie giggled. Gretchen sighed. Anna kept her gaze on her lap, her fingers smoothing the line of her gloves, trying not to smile, and failing just a little.

Their laughter softened as Sophia excused herself, summoned toward the pianoforte by her mother’s expectant glance.

Julia followed, swept up by a passing cousin with a fan and a secret.

Natalie drifted to greet a friend near the card tables.

Only Anna and Gretchen remained by the chairs, the noise of the room cresting and dipping around them.

Gretchen took a careful sip of her cordial. “You danced twice.”

Anna turned her head, brows lifting. “Is that a crime?”

“No,” Gretchen replied, a faint smile ghosting across her lips. “But it is... noteworthy.”

Anna looked down at her gloves, smoothing a wrinkle that wasn’t there. “It was a dance. It was only polite.”

“Of course,” Gretchen murmured. “Though I must say, few men inspire such persistent politeness from you.”

“Perhaps,” Gretchen said. “But there was a moment during the second where I couldn’t decide if I should look away… or look harder.”

Anna blinked, startled. “Gretchen?—”

“I’m not judging,” she said quickly, her voice soft. “Only observing. As I always do.”

Anna exhaled softly through her nose, not quite a laugh.

Her gaze drifted toward the far end of the ballroom, where Henry stood speaking with Lord Elwick, his expression unreadable.

Near the pianoforte, Sophia played with quiet focus, her mother seated nearby with a small smile of approval. A few guests had begun to dance again.

Then Henry approached.

He was composed, of course, always, but his expression had shifted. Less guarded now. Almost warm.

“Lady Anna,” he said with a faint bow.

“Your Grace,” she returned, rising just slightly as propriety required.

His gaze lingered a moment too long. Not enough to cause a comment. But enough that she felt it.

“You danced beautifully tonight,” he said.

“Thank you.”

He paused, then added, low enough for only her to hear, “If you find yourself restless before retiring... I shall take a walk near the east garden.”

Her breath caught, but she didn’t look away. His gaze lingered. Not just as a duke appraising a guest, but as a man waiting for permission.

“I... shall see how I feel,” Anna said carefully.

His lips barely curved. “I’ll take that as a maybe.”

He inclined his head. “Good evening, Lady Anna. Lady Gretchen.”

And then he was gone, already turning toward another guest, already returning to his role as host.

Anna sat back down slowly.

Gretchen glanced at her. “What did he say?”

Anna smoothed her skirts. “Nothing of consequence.”

But her voice was too even. And Gretchen, wisely, said nothing more.

The drawing room had begun to thin, the hum of conversation softening as guests drifted toward cards, cordial, or polite retreat. The pianoforte had fallen silent. Only the occasional rustle of silk or clink of glass disturbed the calm.

The hum of conversation softened. A footman collected empty tea cups. Someone yawned behind a fan.

Anna stood near the fire, watching the firelight flicker against the brass fender, her thoughts tangled.

tea cooling in her hands. Across the room, Sophia was bidding goodnight to a group of older ladies. Julia appeared beside her, stealing a sugared biscuit from a passing tray.

“Still glowing?” she said quietly, not quite teasing.

Anna gave a soft laugh. “I’m fairly certain it’s the firelight.”

Julia tilted her head. “It wasn’t the firelight watching you like that.”

Before Anna could reply, Gretchen joined them, her voice low and precise. “Whatever you’re thinking, think carefully. He’s not like the others.”

“I know,” Anna said.

“I’m glad you do,” Gretchen murmured.

Anna said nothing. Her fingers curled more tightly around her teacup.

Moments later, as the room began to shift, chairs scraping gently, candles being trimmed, Anna slipped away. She stepped through the open doors to the terrace, drawing in the cool night air like water. The garden below was quiet, bathed in silver from the rising moon.

The murmur of conversation faded behind her as the doors clicked softly shut. She was alone.

She leaned her hands on the balustrade and closed her eyes.

Her pulse had steadied, but not her thoughts. She still felt the heat of Henry’s words at her ear, “ If you find yourself restless before retiring...”

She wasn’t sure what she felt. Desire? Excitement? Or…want? The weight of being wanted in a way that had nothing to do with duty or fortune?

“Anna.”

Her eyes opened slowly. She turned.

Isaac stood just behind her. He gave her a slow once-over, the kind that made her skin crawl.

“There you are. I was beginning to think the Duke had spirited you away entirely.”

She met his gaze coolly. “You sound disappointed.”

He gave a thin smile. “Not at all. Encouraged, actually.”

She said nothing.

He leaned one shoulder against the wall, as though this was a casual conversation.

“You’ve made an impression. You’re not na?ve.

You’ve caught his attention. A rather strong one.

The Duke is interested. Everyone can see it.

Even Lord Vaun. I daresay half the room saw it.

And with a little effort, it might amount to something beneficial. ”

Anna’s posture tightened. “That’s hardly your concern.”

He ignored her. “It’s a good thing. The best, actually. Do you have any idea what that kind of match could do for us?”

She stared at him. “Us?”

He chuckled. “Why, for all of us. Stenton. The family, you especially. But your mother and Heather too. You’ve always said you care about them.”

Her breath caught, offended by the sheer audacity of it.

She folded her arms. “Don’t pretend this is about my mother. Or my sister.”

“Fine,” he said, voice lower. “It’s about the estate. About appearances. About what happens when a family like ours fades from the papers and the parlors. Lord Vaun is still interested, of course, but the Duke... well, he outranks us all.”

“You want me to... pursue him?” she asked, voice low but sharp.

Isaac smiled like a man offering sage counsel. “Not pursue. Position yourself. He’s already looking. You’d be a fool not to encourage it.”

“I’m not for sale, Isaac.”

“You’re not being sold,” he replied smoothly. “You’re investing. And quite frankly, this is the best opportunity you’ll ever get.”

She stepped back, shaken, not from surprise, but from the revulsion twisting in her stomach.

“You’re serious.”

“Your father never saw potential. I do. You always wanted to help the estate,” he said calmly. “Here’s your chance.”

“And if I say no?”

He shrugged carelessly. “You won’t. You’re not selfish.”

She stared at him, willing herself to stay composed. “Is that what this is now? Strategy?”

He leaned in slightly. “If he takes you seriously, and there’s a chance he might, you could change everything. His backing would settle the debts. Secure Stenton. And…”

She cut him off. “You want his money.”

He didn’t deny it. “His influence. His reach. And let’s be honest, you wouldn’t suffer. He seems taken with you.”

She turned, almost ready to walk away. He stopped her with a single, quiet threat.

“If this doesn’t work, if he tires of you, or you sabotage it, I’ll be forced to consider alternatives.

Perhaps arrange a match for Heather first. The Marquess of Bellcliff is still looking, and you know how he likes. .. younger brides.”

Anna froze.

He smiled like a man who thought he’d won.

“You wouldn’t,” she said, quietly.

Isaac’s tone turned cold. “Try me. You’ve left me with very few choices.”

He paused, then added, almost casually, “Of course, if you were clever, you wouldn’t leave it to chance. The Duke may not be ready to propose, but we both know a scandal can be… persuasive.”