Free Dancing with the Duke by Suzanna Medeiros

Chapter One
    1806
     
    The Duke of Clarington cursed his luck at
finding himself at the most hated of places during the most hated
of times — Almack’s at the start the London Season. The ballroom
was filled to capacity, and he could almost feel the weight of the
assembled guests’ speculative glances pressing in on him,
threatening to suffocate him. It took no small amount of effort to
hold his ground.
    He’d tried to convince two of his closest
friends to accompany him that evening, but the Marquess of Overlea
and the Earl of Kerrick had manufactured reasons to be elsewhere.
He couldn’t blame them. If he could have managed the feat, he would
have been anywhere else as well.
    He distracted himself by listening in on the
conversation of two young ladies who were only a few steps away.
Their loud whispers, dissecting every man present, were impossible
to ignore. When they paused, he glanced their way to see who was to
be their next victim, and, as if on cue, they turned to look at
him. As one, the pair lifted their fans to titter behind them.
    He was going to kill Lucy for this. It was,
after all, his sister’s fault he was there that evening. He’d
always made it a point to stay well away from Almack’s, the hunting
grounds of the single female of marriageable age. But at Lucy’s
request, their mother had undertaken to sponsor her childhood
friend’s introduction to society. At two and twenty, Charlotte
would be older than most of the other girls taking their first
steps into society, so his sister had argued that the full backing
of the Clarington family was needed to make her debut a successful
one.
    From there, it took little effort for Lucy to
convince their mother it was vital he be seen dancing with her
friend. She’d reasoned that once others saw Alexander Thompson, the
elusive Duke of Clarington, dancing with their charge, men would
flock to her side, anxious to discover her charms.
    He suppressed a shudder. Charlotte Grant had
no charms. The last time he’d seen her she’d been a gangly,
long-limbed adolescent of fifteen who’d taken to following him
everywhere. She’d also had a terrible habit of blushing and
stammering whenever he spoke to her. He had a suspicion that Lucy
had taken it into her head to try to arrange a match between the
two of them. She’d often voiced how Charlotte was just like a
sister to her.
    He had no intention of obliging her, however.
He would invite Charlotte to dance, as he’d promised his mother,
and then he would be free to depart. That moment could not come
soon enough.
    He took out his pocket watch and wondered,
for what felt like the hundredth time, what was taking them so
long. His mother and sister had left before him to fetch Charlotte
and should have already been there. It was now twenty minutes past
the time of their intended arrival, and his need to escape was
growing with each passing minute.
    Movement at the entrance to the ballroom
caught his attention, and Alexander turned to see his mother and
sister enter the room and wait to be announced. He frowned when he
didn’t see Charlotte. With her flaming red hair and her great
height, she would be hard to miss.
    He saw her, then, as she moved into the
doorway and had to stop himself from allowing his jaw to drop. Good
God, surely this couldn’t be the same girl he’d known.
    He was staring, but he couldn’t help it. She
was even taller than when he’d last seen her seven years ago, just
before he’d left for the continent on his tour, and her red hair
had darkened. Not by much, but enough that the color now
complemented her creamy complexion instead of warring with it. And
instead of hiding the color of her hair, which he suspected had
always made her feel self-conscious, she’d chosen to wear a green
and gold gown that accentuated it.
    He gave himself a mental shake and approached
the group as they moved further into the room. The sooner he got
this over with, the sooner he could leave.
    “I am so glad