Page 2 of The Duke’s Defiant Angel (Dukes Gone Dirty #1)

2

T he stares were too much.

Evangeline’s hands trembled as her father grasped her elbow to lead her further into the ballroom.

“It’s one night, Angie,” her father murmured so only she could hear.

“Yes, Father.” Her chin came up even as her skin crawled under the weight of their stares. The muscles in her legs twitched, ready to run. Her lungs hitched as she tried to draw in a deep breath—difficult to do with her stays cinched so tight.

Her father was right. It was one night. Only one night.

She could withstand anything for one night. Couldn’t she?

Her breath left her in a whoosh of air as her gaze collided with one stare in particular.

She looked away quickly. The man was staring so intently, he was bordering on rude. But the tall, formidable-looking fellow wasn’t among the crowd currently jostling for her attention, and so she forced herself not to look again.

Even when she was smiling demurely at the gentlemen around her, half-listening to her father’s introductions to the men he considered friends, she was keenly aware of the man with the golden eyes.

That’s how they’d looked in the flickering candlelight from the chandelier, at least.

Like a predator’s eyes, they’d been fixed on her as if he could see straight through her forced smile to the truth that lay beneath.

She was miserable.

She was terrified.

She wished more than anything that she could have avoided this entire affair. But of course, they had to put on the pretense, at least, that she was an eligible young lady looking for a match.

Even her parents weren’t yet aware that she’d already found her husband.

She curtsied before a baron who told her he and her father had been friends since their school days. He went on to tell her a story from their youth...while eyeing her decolletage with a predatory gleam of his own.

A glance around her revealed more hungry stares.

Predators, the lot of them.

Her knees trembled as the foolish thought took hold. For one moment, she imagined they were closing in on her.

Don’t be daft .

This was not a hunt, and she was not some fox on the run.

She had nothing to fear. It was just her shy nature, that was all. Painfully shy, according to her mother. Always had been. And no amount of lessons in etiquette and elocution had driven it out of her.

So, no. It wasn’t just the men she feared. It was all of them. Lords and ladies alike. Every time she risked a glance around her, she caught ladies staring with just as much unabashed curiosity, though perhaps a little less leering.

Your own fault , her mother had informed her before she’d come down the stairs for her grand entrance. If you’d socialized more with the ladies of the ton like other girls your age, this Season wouldn’t be such a hardship for you.

Perhaps so. But Evangeline had always preferred their country manor to the townhome in London. And she’d preferred the company there, as well.

Once again, she risked a glance around her, hoping to see the man who would be her husband. Albert had promised he’d come. As the second son of a baron, he might not have been as high-ranking as her father’s friends, but her parents had never been so worried about titles.

Besides, surely what mattered most was Albert’s kindness to her. His affection for her was indisputable. And one she proved that meeting other gentlemen would not sway her, as her parents believed, surely her father would relent and agree to their marrying.

She just had to make it through this one night, that was all.

She merely had to hold up her end of this bargain.

And she would. She lifted her chin. She’d do it for Albert.

For him, she could summon her courage. It would be easier to withstand the attention if he were here, though. His support, even if from a distance, would be most heartening.

“...you truly have grown into quite the beauty,” an elderly gentleman was saying.

He held her hand in his, and his grip was crushing.

“Thank you, my lord,” she murmured.

When his next words were directed at her father, she turned her gaze once more to the crowd. But in her search for Albert, she caught his gaze again.

She did not know who he was, but she did not like him. She didn’t have to know him to know that the way he looked at her was outright devilish. His smirk spoke of conceit, and the tilt of his chin as he looked down his nose told anyone in the nearby vicinity that he was of importance.

She sniffed as she looked away. He might have been handsome enough, she supposed, if one liked older men.

Granted, he was not as ancient as the viscount before her, who had yet to let go of her gloved hand. But he had creases near his eyes, and his dark hair had a sprinkle of gray at the temples.

Too old for her liking. And even if she found him attractive, she would never be tempted to go near a man like him. His features were hard. The set of his jaw unforgiving.

This was not a predator who’d merely capture his prey.

He’d break it. Devour it.

She shivered as she tore her gaze away, her throat working as she tried to swallow.

“And of course, you remember Lady Stanza,” her mother said from her right.

“Of course,” she murmured as she curtsied.

Truly, she was behaving like a child. She was flanked by her parents and surrounded by high-standing members of society who merely wished to know her.

And at any moment, she’d glance up to see Albert coming toward her to claim a dance. Her parents might not have wished for her to rush into an engagement without a proper Season, but soon enough, they’d come to understand that she wasn’t about to be swayed by any other man. No matter the title, no matter the wealth.

And then...well, then they would not reject his suit.

Not so long as she’d done her part.

It seemed an eternity had passed before the crowd around her eased, and music began to play at the far end of the ballroom.

For the first time since she’d arrived, she could breathe. And for the first time in far too long, she was alone.

Well, surrounded by a crush of guests, but at least she did not have her father’s hand at her back, nudging her toward an endless stream of people. Even her mother had wandered off to a nearby cluster of matrons. Evangeline could hear her talking animatedly about all the preparations involved for tonight’s ball.

For one blessed moment, Evangeline could breathe.

“You have outshone the stars tonight, Miss Dalton.” The low voice beside her made her start.

Eyes wide with surprise, she turned to face... him.

The man with the fierce stare who’d been frightening her from afar from the moment she’d entered the room.

She met his dark gaze and then looked around frantically for her parents. Surely the gentleman would wish to be introduced properly, and?—

“Allow me to introduce myself, since your family seems preoccupied,” he said.

Her lips parted in shock.

He meant to...introduce himself?

Her heart raced at his audacity.

Before she could recover, he had her hand in his and was leaning over it. “William Cooper, the Duke of Raffian.”

She blinked once. Twice. The Duke of…

The blood rushed from her head so quickly, she nearly lost her balance.

“Ah, I see you’ve heard of me.” His gaze met hers with wicked humor.

She couldn’t respond. All she managed was a nod. Had she heard of him? Of course, she had. She knew his name well, along with a few others who were oft mentioned alongside him.

Namely, Lucifer, Beelzebub, and Mephistopheles.

He lifted her hand and glanced meaningfully toward the dance floor where the first strains of a waltz were underway. “May I?”

The terror that had been plaguing her all day was so quickly replaced by fury, she felt all that lost blood rush back into her face. Into her cheeks, more specifically, and the knave before her chuckled in response.

“Have I scandalized you, my dear girl?” he asked.

She swallowed hard. Yes. He had. The man hadn’t even waited for a proper introduction. And there was no way she could refuse him a dance, as he had to know.

He was a duke.

He was the duke, according to her mother and her friends. Powerful and wealthy beyond belief. She cast a quick glance at her mother, who was watching her, her brows arched in eager anticipation.

Scandalous as his approach might be, his seeking her out was an honor.

At least, in her mother’s eyes.

There was only one acceptable answer.

Evangeline forced a tremulous smile. “It would be my pleasure, Your Grace.”

He chuckled again as he drew her close. Too close.

Anger pulsed in her veins just as surely as terror. Who did this man think he was? He was thwarting all the rules. Even as she thought it, he slid an arm about her waist. To anyone else, it might have seemed he was guiding her toward the dance floor, but she felt the heat of his hand sliding over her waist like a brand.

He held her so close, she could feel the solid heat of his chest against her side, and the scent of unfamiliar male invaded her senses. It was some mix of cologne, liquor, and leather, and it made her feel even more like she was being engulfed in the man’s grip.

The crowd parted for them, and the stares—she turned her face away instinctively, but that seemed to make him think she enjoyed his hold on her because he made a sound of approval as he tugged her even closer. “I have you, Angel. You’ve nothing to fear.”

She lifted her head then and found herself gaping at him as he took her hand in his and placed the other on her low back, ready to lead her in a waltz.

You’ve nothing to fear.

Was he in jest? Everyone had heard the rumors about the immoral duke and his libertine friends. According to the scandal sheets, he was rarely sober, never at home, and always connected to some tawdry tale involving opera singers and the like.

He smiled down at her just as the music swelled, and they moved as one into the dance. His smile was no doubt meant to be reassuring, but it had her heart fluttering like a hummingbird trying to be free.

She looked away quickly from that all-seeing gaze and the all-knowing smile. So very knowing. His smug demeanor proved to be her salvation, cutting through her fear and sparking indignation. Her spine stiffened with pride, and while she couldn’t quite meet his gaze, she held her chin high all the same.

“Such a darling young lady,” he said, his voice a murmur, and she couldn’t tell if he was talking to her or herself. “Your parents should not have left you alone like that.”

She peeked up at him and looked away as if scalded. She had been scalded. That look in his eyes, the unbridled heat. Her cheeks burned from it, and her breathing grew more shallow by the second.

Oh, where was Albert? She glanced around as subtly as she could, but all she saw were more stares.

Meanwhile, the duke asked her questions about herself that she dutifully answered with as few words as possible. Yes, Your Grace. No, Your Grace . As you say, Your Grace. Mere whispers as she prayed for this torture to end.

Couldn’t he feel the stares? Didn’t he mind the whispers?

No. She suspected not.

“Do you not enjoy all this attention, Miss Dalton?” he asked as he swept her across the floor.

She dipped her head, ready to say, No, Your Grace once more. But she was taken aback when his dancing swept her right off the dance floor, so they were standing next to the glass doors leading to the veranda.

“Allow me to steal you away then,” he said.

She stared up at him in horror. Had he truly just said that? She wasn’t certain now whether it was terror or anger that made her tremble. Perhaps it was a touch of both.

Surely this man was mad. What kind of lunatic threatened to steal a young lady away? Even if he were in jest, he’d gone too far.

He reached out and touched her cheek, the back of his gloved hand tracing over her skin and down her jaw as if it were his right.

She forgot how to breathe.

Her heart slammed against her ribcage, and heat flooded her neck and cheeks.

The audacity of this man!

His smile hitched up on one side in a crooked grin that seemed to say he knew precisely what she was thinking. He knew she was terrified, and that amused him.

Oh, where was Albert?

Her mind went blank for a moment as his thumb brushed her lower lip. His touch was gentle but so inappropriate, she knew not how to respond.

And then again… Where is Albert ?

She took a step away as she prayed that wherever he was, he had not seen that intimate, possessive display. He’d understand it wasn’t her fault. Of course he would. Dear Albert was nothing if not understanding. He’d even taken her parents’ decision to hold off on accepting his proposal until after this Season in stride.

But all the same, she’d never give him reason to doubt her fidelity or her love.

She took another step back, her promises to Albert giving her renewed courage.

“Come outside with me, Miss Dalton,” the duke said.

It was not a request.

“Your Grace, I cannot,” she said with as much pride as she could muster.

His low laughter was tolerant but patronizing. The kind of laugh one would use when a child insisted there were ghosts in the attic. “Sweet Evangeline.”

She gasped at his use of her name. But truly, did she expect anything less than the most outrageous manners from the rogue after all he’d done thus far?

“Surely your father would not argue if you wished to steal a moment alone with the duke who has singled you out?”

Evangeline’s eyes widened. Now she knew for certain she was trapped in a nightmare. Or some terrible melodrama. “I ought to get back to my parents before they miss me,” she said.

He smiled, a huff of laughter making her wonder if he were mocking her. “Very well. You can tell your mother you have impressed me with your dutiful manners.”

She took another step away from him, ready to run and fighting a horrible surge of hysterical laughter at his hubris. She hadn’t the faintest desire to impress him and even less desire to be singled out by him.

She dipped her head politely, though, ready to flee.

“And you can tell your father that he need not worry about your virtue, dear one. I’ve already planned to speak with him.”

Evangeline’s chest rose and fell quickly as his words settled over her.

Speak to her father? Surely he couldn’t mean…

He did not intend to court her. Did he?

The arrogant old beast had the nerve to wink at her before giving her a short gallant bow. “I’ll be seeing you again soon, my dear.”

His words echoed in his wake like a vow

Like a threat.

She gave her head a shake before hurrying back to her parents. There was no way she’d marry a man like that. And no one would ever make her.