Page 31 of The Duke In My Bed (The Heirs’ Club of Scoundrels #1)

We know what we are, but know not what we may be.

“Are you sure?” Miss Prim asked him.

Annoyed that she’d questioned him, Bray frowned. “Surely this is not an area where you need to doubt me.”

“But he seemed such a pleasant and true gentleman when I met him earlier tonight.”

“How else would you expect him to conduct himself when meeting a beautiful young lady, her sister, and her chaperone at a ballroom? Even scoundrels know how to behave properly, Miss Prim. They just seldom do.”

A twist of worry wrinkled her forehead. “I’m sure you are right about him, Your Grace. I just don’t like admitting that you are.”

Bray let his gaze feather down her face.

He wanted to pull her to his chest and hold her, soothe her brow.

At this moment, he didn’t necessarily want to kiss her or even make love to her.

He’d always loved the feel of a woman in his arms, beneath him, or astride him.

He loved the pleasure he gave and received.

But he couldn’t remember ever wanting to hold a woman just so he could feel her close to him.

Miss Prim aroused things he didn’t want to feel, such as caring whether or not Miss Gwen was dancing with a rake. It should mean nothing to him, but for reasons he could not understand, he did care.

“Well, don’t just stand there looking at me as if there were other things on your mind,” Miss Prim said. “Do something.”

There are other things on my mind!

Bray crossed his hands over his chest and shrugged. “What do you suggest I do?”

“I have no idea. What do you usually do when a scoundrel dances with an innocent young lady?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing? That is not a satisfactory answer.”

“It’s only a dance. They are in full view of everyone, and it’s ending now. Just tell her to be careful of him and not to find herself out on a dark terrace with him.”

“Is he noted for ruining the reputations of young ladies?”

“If you call breaking their hearts ruining them,” Bray said, and noticed that someone had moved into his line of vision just over Miss Prim’s shoulder.

It was Mr. Hopscotch. When the Prince’s man was certain he had Bray’s attention, he nodded in an approving manner, then turned and walked away. Bray checked his impulse to go after the man, jerk him against the wall, and scare the devil out of him.

Bray didn’t like being followed. If he decided to pursue Miss Prim, it would be because he wanted to, not because the Prince had unscrupulously wagered the Elgin Marbles in expectation of Bray’s nuptials.

“I certainly don’t want her heart broken by a rogue,” Miss Prim said. “I’ll be sure to speak to her about him. Thank you for alerting me.”

Bray heard the call for the next dance and said, “You’ll have to excuse me. The next dance will be a waltz, and I need to collect the lady I’ve promised the dance to.”

“Oh, if it’s a waltz, then I must go meet someone, too.”

Bray felt a catch in his breath. “Whom are you dancing with?”

She smiled at him and his stomach clenched. “As if you care? Thank you again for alerting me to Mr. Standish. I’ll guide Gwen in a different direction should she find favor with him. Excuse me, Your Grace.”

In a flash, she turned and was gone. Bray watched her until she was out of sight. She was right. He didn’t care whom she was dancing with, but he still wanted to know who the man was.

Bray hadn’t kissed a young lady her first Season in Society for more than a few years now. They were too vulnerable and too impressionable. One kiss, and they thought the gentleman would be asking for their hand in marriage the next day.

They fell in love too easily, and the simplest attention had them thinking of their weddings and changing their names.

So he’d dance with them, smile at them, and share a glass of champagne with them at balls, but he’d long since stopped asking them out for rides in the park or sought to spend time alone with them.

Innocents were just too much trouble. He’d had more than a few young ladies burst into tears in front of him when he refused to offer for their hand.

He didn’t have to worry about a mistress wanting to leg-shackle him.

Discreet affairs had saved him a lot of trouble and the young ladies a lot of heartache.

But Miss Prim wasn’t like the usual girl her first Season out. She was more mature, yet she could seem so young when she was chasing her sisters through the house or playing blindman’s buff with them.

Bray claimed the hand of the Dowager Countess of Bloomingville, and they walked toward the dance floor. He had chosen one of the ladies lining the wall for his first dance for as long as he could remember.

The ritual had started just as a ploy to irritate his father.

The late duke had flown into a furious rage after three demanding fathers came to him, thinking Bray was going to propose to their daughters.

The duke proceeded to give Bray a long and booming lecture about young ladies making their debut Season and how he must never be alone with them.

His father was always fearful that an unworthy chit without proper heritage would catch him in a parson’s mousetrap.

Bray’s father didn’t care if he had five mistresses and two widows in his bed at one time, but he’d warned him against taking one innocent miss to his bed or to a dark terrace for a romantic interlude.

Since his father did not want him to show favor to the young ladies, Bray had started showing favor to the older ladies in retaliation—and they loved it.

He could still remember the expression on his father’s face the first time he walked over to the line of dowagers, spinsters, and widows.

Bray had bowed and kissed their hands and then selected one of them to dance with him.

For once, the old duke was speechless. The ladies were in no danger from him nor was he in danger from any of them.

It was simply an enjoyable dance for all concerned—and a thorn in his father’s side.

Bray talked politely with the countess as they danced, but every once in a while, he’d catch a glimpse of Miss Prim dancing with the Earl of Bitterhaven.

Bray had nothing against the man, except that he didn’t want the earl touching Miss Prim’s back or holding her hand while they danced the waltz.

Because they were the same height, the earl couldn’t get his arm up high enough on the turns, so Miss Prim had to duck when she twirled under his arm.

Bray didn’t like the fact that she seemed to be having such a grand time either.

The only good thing was that the earl was a harmless man—or he’d better be.

Over the next couple of hours, Bray did his duty as the newest duke in the ton and allowed all the pushy mamas to present to him their daughters who were entering Society for the first time.

As was expected of him, he asked some of them to dance, though his thoughts and his eyes were constantly searching the dance floor to see which gentleman had next captured Miss Prim’s fancy.

Since her first dance of the evening with Lord Bitterhaven, Miss Prim had turned into the belle of the ball.

She was on the arm of a gentleman for dance after dance.

Miss Gwen hadn’t slowed down either. There were more than two dozen young ladies making their Society debut tonight, and he hadn’t seen any one of them dancing as many times as Louisa and her sister.

There was nothing like gossip to make Londoners a little curious about a person.

After more than half a dozen dances, Bray decided he’d paid his dues to Society and the ladies and had danced enough. He went in search of a good stiff drink. Unfortunately for him, the Great Hall served only wine and champagne.

“You certainly are making a name for yourself tonight, Your Grace.”

Bray accepted a glass from the server and turned to face Seaton. “You mean I hadn’t done that already.”

Seaton gave him a rueful glare. “Every set of eyes in the room has been on you and Miss Prim all night, and you’ve both managed to dance with everyone but each other.”

Bray sipped his champagne, and the two moved away from the serving table and over to a corner, where they could talk in private.

“I hadn’t noticed.”

“You hadn’t noticed that you haven’t danced with the one lady in the room whom everyone keeps expecting you to dance with?”

“No.”

“Well, I don’t know what to say to that.”

“Sure you do. You always have something to say.”

“All right, then, I’ll speak truthfully and say I don’t believe you.”

Bray turned away from the old man and looked around the ballroom. “I wish you didn’t know me so well. It’s a damn nuisance at times.”

Seaton harrumphed. “Don’t try to change the subject. You know everyone is waiting for you to dance with Miss Prim, which is precisely the reason you haven’t.”

Bray shrugged and took another sip of his drink.

“I suppose you’re really not hard to figure out. If the majority of people expect you to do something, I can bet money you won’t. Everyone is assuming you haven’t asked Miss Prim to marry you.”

“Are they?”

“It’s being whispered.”

“But you know I asked her to marry me and that she turned me down.”

“No one else seems to know that.”

Bray thought on that for a few seconds. “I wonder why Miss Prim hasn’t told anyone.”

“I doubt anyone has been bold enough to come right out and ask her if you have offered for her hand. By your actions tonight, it’s a rational assumption that you haven’t.”

Bray kept his features passive, but his thoughts went back to the day he told Miss Prim she would have to ask him to marry her.

He was thinking now that might not have been his finest hour, but it certainly gave him reason to pursue her if he decided to do so.

Pursuit grew more tempting each time he remembered those blindfolded kisses.

“Have you even spoken to her this evening?”

“Yes.”