Duncan watched the two of them leave. As soon as they were out of earshot, Jacob nudged him playfully with his elbow.
“Gazing lovingly at thy beloved, are you?” he teased.
“Do not be ridiculous,” Duncan rolled his eyes at his brother’s childishness.
“Is it really so ridiculous, dear brother of mine? After all, she is your bride to be. What I am suggesting is only natural.”
“You know fair well that our union is born only out of a sense of duty,” Duncan said, irritated. “Do not bring this romance nonsense into it.”
“Oh, but why not? I got the opportunity to speak with Lady Sophia today, and I believe the two of you will make an excellent pair.”
“Why do you say that?” The Duke raised an eyebrow.
“I am a good judge of character,” Jacob shrugged. “I can gauge its… essence, if you will.”
Duncan rolled his eyes at his brother’s theatrics once again.
“Judging people, huh? That does not go very well with your self-proclaimed nonjudgmental nature.”
“Oh, you know what I mean.” Jacob shook his head. “I am merely trying to suggest that I sense there is some chemistry between you two. I am certain you will be love struck soon if you are not already.”
Duncan had no time for his brother’s absurd predictions.
“Love is not something I am thinking of,” he asserted.
“Really, brother? Who are you fooling?” Jacob grinned. Duncan knew that he was only trying to get under his skin now.
“I do not need to fool anyone.” Duncan finally put his foot down. “I am the Duke. There is no need for me to explain myself.”
“As you wish,” Jacob replied, not seeming convinced. “I shall check on you again once you have danced with your lady. You should go now as they may be waiting for you.”
“Ridiculous,” the Duke muttered under his breath. Jacob was just trying to tease him, for Duncan had given no indication that he was trying to blossom a romance with Sophia.
When the Duke finally arrived inside, he found Sophia and his mother waiting for him. Mrs. Harrington stood in the corner.
“Good that you are finally here,” the Dowager noted. “No time to waste now. Please assume your positions.”
The Duke was thrust onto the make-shift dance floor in their drawing room. He extended out his hand for Lady Sophia to take. She took it timidly.
“Now, the wedding dance is of great importance,” Mrs. Harington’s voice droned in the background. “The two of you must be completely in sync — a harmony that is indicative of your time together as a future married couple.”
“Ignore her,” Duncan whispered to Sophia as they danced. “She is prone to be much more dramatic than one needs to be.”
“She is correct though,” Sophia replied. “A wedding dance does seem quite important — far more so than perfecting one’s walk.”
Duncan let out a small chuckle.
“I see that she has been bothering you about your posture, too, then? She is predictable.”
“Focus, you two,” Mrs. Harington interrupted them. “You must pretend as though you are in the ballroom on your wedding day. You must take this very seriously.”
“See what I mean?” the Duke said as he twirled Sophia around. The two of them seemed to be doing pretty well so far, given that they had never danced together before.
“You must forgive me as I do not have much practice,” Sophia whispered to him. “I have not attended many balls in my life, and therefore, I have not danced as much as other girls my age would have.”
“You need to relax, My Lady. You are doing just fine,” Duncan replied. Their gaze met once again, and the same unfamiliar feeling stirred inside of Duncan except, this time, there was no interruption from anyone else.
He saw Sophia’s cheeks redden under the intensity of his gaze, and without warning, Sophia lost her balance and tripped over his foot.
