Free Dancing with the Duke by Suzanna Medeiros Page B

He’d never noticed how becoming they
were.
    He wasn’t sure how long they stood like that,
looking at each other, but all too soon Lucy swooped in to steal
her friend away. He watched them walk away and realized he was
waiting for Charlotte to look back and smile at him again.
    After dismissing the errant thought, he
started for the exit. His steps faltered, however, then stopped.
When he turned to see where his sister had taken Charlotte, he was
relieved to see that they were standing off to one side, talking to
Mother. That relief was short lived. He saw first one, then another
gentleman approach the small group. His mother capably performed
the introductions, and before he knew it, Charlotte was being led
out onto the dance floor by Haversham, a renowned rake.
    Damn. He couldn’t possibly leave now and
abandon Charlotte to Haversham and his like. He’d have to stay and
make sure no one tried to take any liberties with her.
    * * *
    The evening was an unqualified success and
Charlotte was in a very good mood. She could barely remember the
names of all the men who’d asked her to dance. Lucy had given her a
list of their names and titles in advance when they’d first talked
about her Season, and she had studied them. All that preparation
had almost flown out the window when she’d first set eyes on her
friend’s brother.
    Alexander was even more handsome than she
remembered. At over six feet in height, he was taller than most of
the men there. He’d always had a muscular build, but it hadn’t
escaped her notice that his shoulders had broadened as he’d matured
into adulthood. She was taller than most of the women present that
evening, but next to him she felt almost dainty, and a thrill of
physical awareness had swept through her when she’d taken his arm.
He used to wear his dark brown hair longer, but now it was
fashionably sort, which had the effect of making his blue eyes more
prominent.
    She’d worked hard over the last few years to
overcome her shyness, but when those eyes had turned on her she’d
almost reverted back to the self-conscious girl she’d once been.
She’d experienced a moment of panic, thinking she was going to lose
her nerve, but had thankfully managed to stay collected.
    The difference in their ages no longer seemed
as significant as when she was younger. He was only six years older
than her, after all. That was a very large difference when one was
fifteen, but seemed negligible now that she was twenty-two.
    Lucy had warned her about Alex’s reluctance
to attend the ball. Charlotte knew her friend was only trying to
shield her from disappointment, and so she’d steeled herself not to
be disappointed when Alex left after the dance he’d promised her.
However, that hadn’t happened. As time passed and he remained, she
couldn’t hold back the hope that blossomed in her chest. She made
of point of appearing oblivious to his presence, but in truth, she
was aware of his every movement. She couldn’t help it. She’d loved
him forever.
    She told herself it was foolhardy, but she
demurred when yet another gentleman asked her to reserve the waltz
for him. There was only one man she wanted to waltz with that
evening, and if he had no intention of dancing with her again, she
wouldn’t allow her hope to be dashed. For tonight, at any rate.
    She sat on the sidelines for the moment,
stealing a few moments of peace with Lucy and her mother. She knew
that it would not last long. Lucy had been correct. When everyone
saw that the Duke of Clarington had danced with her, they’d all
wanted to know who she was. Women were curious and men were
intrigued. The Charlotte of old would have cringed under the
attention, and to be truthful there was still more than a little of
that person locked up inside her. If she was to gain Alex’s
interest, she knew she’d have to behave as though that was the last
thing she wanted. The only way to do that was to encourage other
men while attempting to remain