She looked from her wrist that hung in mid-air to the arm he had dropped to his side. Her cheeks were flushed with color again while her eyes spun with confusion. “Was there something that you needed, Your Grace?” She swallowed hard and dropped her wrist to her side before straightening.
Why did I do that?
His heart thrummed in his ears as his anger subsided and gave way to reason. “Forgive me, Lady Isabella, I simply wanted to enquire whether or not you have been enjoying the evening. We have not had a chance to speak since the last time that we met.”
Her eyes darkened slightly as her face stiffened. “I thought you made it clear that even speaking to me was a mistake, Your Grace,” she said stiffly.
Is that why her behavior has changed toward me?
Images from the maze flashed across his mind. He had said that their kiss had been a mistake. Had she not thought it a mistake? He examined her face closely, recalling the nearness of her lips and the heat from her body that had radiated through her clothes.
He had wanted to kiss her again at that moment, yet his better judgment had stopped him. “I did not mean that being in your presence was a mistake, Lady Isabella. I simply meant that placing your honor in question was not something that I ever intended.”
His answer seemed to surprise her as her lips parted ever so slightly with a lift of her brow. “You do surprise me, My Lord. I did not think that a lady’s honor was something that you prized so dearly. Then again, you did want to save us all from ruin after cavorting with those shirtless men…” Her voice dropped to a dangerously low tone as her eyes dipped to his chest.
“Is that not what is expected of me as a gentleman of the ton?” He asked stiffly, feeling the heat rise under his collar beneath her gaze.
The corner of her mouth tipped up into a smirk. “I would never have pegged you as someone who cared what the rest of the ton thought of you, Your Grace.”
Feeling his anger darken, Cassian clenched his jaw. “You know nothing of what I care about.” His voice was thick with accusation, resenting the effect that one simple comment could have on him.
If it had been anyone else, any other young woman of the ton, he would not have cared about the remark. Yet somehow her words had penetrated into his heart.
“And do you think the Marquess cares for your reputation?” He asked coolly.
“I beg your pardon?” Her brow creased into a frown.
“You seemed quite taken with the Marquess earlier this evening. I wish you all the luck in the world with your upcoming dance. Perhaps once his reputation had burned you, and you have learned what it feels like when a man does not care for a woman’s moral standing, perhaps then you will yearn for the courtesy I have shown you.”
Isabella’s lips parted even further with indignation. “I do not know what it is that you are accusing me of, Your Grace, but I can assure you that I have only agreed to a simple dance. At no point did I ever agree to sell my soul, or my reputation, to your friend!” She bit out the words harshly, gritting her teeth as she glared at him.
Cassian was about to give a reply when Tristan came sauntering over to them with a grin.
“I hope I am not interrupting anything?” He looked from one to the other with a curious glint in his eyes.
Taking a deep breath, Isabella stepped away from Cassian and smiled. “You were not, My Lord, the duke and I were just about to part ways.”
Cassian clenched his jaw.
“Jolly good,” Tristan clasped his hands together in delight, seemingly oblivious to the tension in the air, and bowed before offering Lady Isabella his hand. “Shall we, My Lady? The orchestra is just about ready to strike up the first song.”
Isabella held Cassian’s gaze for a heated moment before placing her gloved hand in Tristan’s. “I would be delighted, My Lord.”
Chapter Thirteen
Isabella had not known what to make of the host and his request for a dance. She’d genuinely thought he was just seeing if he could draw emotion from the duke, but when he approached her with a smile and his outstretched hand, she knew she had no choice but to commit.
“You seem startled, My Lady,” the Marquess pointed out, a smile hiding behind his words.
The orchestra played an easy waltz that allowed the couples to talk while dancing, creating an intimate atmosphere that eased her nerves.
“I am anything but startled, My Lord.” She countered with an easy smile of her own. Talking to men in social settings was something that had been drilled into her by tutors and governesses alike. It was speaking to the duke, however, that posed an issue for her.
“Then that gladdens me. You may not know, but you are quite famous in these parts, so it is an honor to dance with you.” The marquess offered her yet another compliment.
“I am hardly famous, My Lord.” Isabella continued to smile as he spun her under his arm and pulled her back in. When all was said and done, the man was a fair dancer despite his rakish flirting.
Tristan smiled knowingly at her. “Believe me, you are. If your name doesn’t come up in relation to the Laurel club, it comes up from a certain friend of mine wondering what he should do with you.” The corner of his mouth hooked into a teasing smile as he inclined his head with a knowing look.
