Free How to Pursue a Princess by Karen Hawkins Page B

through her. He lacked Lord Huntley’s elegance, but he more than made up for it in graceful power. His coat might not fit as well, his breeches didn’t cling as was the fashion, but she found him irresistible. And judging by the glances other women kept sliding their way, she wasn’t the only one.
    You’re doing it again. You must stop this.
    She glanced up at Wulf to find him regarding her with a faint smile. “What?”
    His brows rose. “We don’t have—how do you say it—the little talk?”
    “Small talk. Would you like to discuss the weather?”
    “With you, even that discussion would hold my interest.”
    Her cheeks warmed. No one had ever paid her such extravagant compliments, and while they made her uncomfortable, they were rather nice to hear. “You are very gallant.”
    His eyes gleamed. “I am dancing with the most beautiful woman in the room. How can I be anything but gallant?”
    She didn’t know what to say to that. “I think we should find a safer topic to discuss, something other than me.”
    “Name this topic and I shall discuss with you. Perhaps you’d like to talk about how beautiful you look wearing blue? You should always wear blue, Moya. It makes your gray eyes turn a pale blue, like the early-morning sky.”
    “That isn’t a different topic. Wulf, we—”
    “Pardon me.” Lord Huntley stood beside them. He locked gazes with Wulf. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”
    “I am Prince Wulfinski.” The prince’s gaze narrowed. “You would not be an earl, would you?”
    Huntley’s brows rose. “Why, yes.”
    “Then you are Huntley.”
    Huntley blinked, surprised.
    Lily gave a weak laugh. “The duchess must have mentioned you to the prince.”
    “How kind of her.” Huntley bowed. “I’m afraid I haven’t had the same advantage. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Your Highness, but I believe this dance with Miss Balfour is mine.”
    “Nyet.” Wulf slipped an arm about Lily’s waist and pulled her to his side. “This is my dance with Miss Balfour. I have claimed it.”
    Aware of the shocked glances from some of the other guests, Lily stepped out of Wulf’s embrace. She could see from Huntley’s tight expression that he assumed that the prince was being deliberately provocative, though that was far from the case. The prince had no idea how to comport himself. A wave of protectiveness surprised her. “Prince Wulfinski, you don’t understand. Huntley claimed this dance earlier, before you arrived. He did so on here.” She held up her wrist where her dance card dangled, the small pencil tied to it.
    “What is that?”
    “A dance card. It’s a custom of our country for each woman to have one. When a man wishes to dance with her, he signs his name on the card beside that dance.”
    “I wish to see this dance card.”
    She slipped her hand from the loop and handed it to him. “It’s very simple, really. I’m sorry no one mentioned it to you before.”
    Wulf looked at the card, distaste upon his face. “There are many names on this card.”
    Lily fought back a smile. “Lady Charlotte introduced me to the other guests.”
    Wulf looked at Huntley. “You are a friend of Lady Charlotte, too, then?”
    Huntley bowed, looking less pleased than Wulf. “I am, and of Miss Balfour’s godmother, too. Now if you don’t mind, I must claim Miss Balfour soon or this dance will be over.”
    Wulf grunted and his gaze returned to the dance card. “I suppose you may have her. But first . . .” He took the pencil and put a large ‘W’ on every dance she had left.
    “Oh dear, you can’t—” Lily began.
    “I claim you for these other dances,” Wulf said calmly.
    “You can’t do that!”
    “But you said it is done just so.”
    “Yes, but a woman cannot dance more than twice with the same man in an evening.”
    “Twice? Pah!” Wulf raked a hand through his hair, looking thoroughly perplexed. “You Scots and your damned rules! If you cannot dance with me more than twice,