“I can manage?—”
“No.” He tightened his hold, guiding her gently but firmly towards the edge of the floor. “You are not fleeing into the corridor with half your gown in tatters. Your grandmother will have my head.”
Austin guided Deena through the throng with careful precision, his arm curved protectively around her waist to shield the torn seam from curious eyes. The heat of her body lingered against his side, a torment he tried, unsuccessfully, to ignore.
As soon as they slipped through a side door into the quieter corridor beyond the ballroom, Deena pulled her hand free with a sharp tug.
“I don’t need your help,” she snapped. “I can find Grandmother perfectly well on my own.”
Austin stopped, turning to face her fully. The corridor was empty, and all he could hear was the distant strains of music muffled behind the heavy door. Deena’s green eyes flashed with annoyance, guilt, and defiance.
“You keep saying that,” he murmured, stepping closer until only a foot separated them. “Yet here we are.”
“Here we are,” she echoed, chin lifting. “Because you appointed yourself my guardian. I am not a child anymore, Austin. Nor am I one of your fluttering admirers who requires rescuing.”
He let his gaze drift over her face and watched the flush bloom on her cheeks. Her pulse beat rapidly at her throat, but she held herself so rigidly proud despite the torn gown and his obvious effect on her. Austin removed his coat and passed it to her to cover her exposed leg.
“Thank you,” she said softly, avoiding eye contact with him. “You should go before someone sees us, and I’ll be exiled again.”
Austin’s curiosity piqued when she mentioned her exile, but it was not a suitable time to ask her about that.
“Deena, I never thought you were a child,” he replied sternly. “And I’m not leaving you alone or rescuing you for applause. Dominic is not here tonight. If anything happens to his sister under my watch, he will hunt me down and flay me alive. Friendship only stretches so far. Not to mention your grandmother, who would have me beheaded if anything happened to you.”
Her lips parted, then pressed together. “Dominic sent me away once before to protect the family name. I doubt he would lose sleep over a torn hem.”
Austin’s jaw tightened. “That was different. And wrong. But it does not mean he stopped caring.”
She looked away, arms folding across her chest as though to hold herself together. He could see her pride warring with her uncertainty.
“You shouldn’t be this kind to me,” she said at last, almost too quietly to hear.
“Why not?”
“Because…” She stopped and shook her head. “Never mind.”
“Because you’re planning to expose me in your little pamphlet?”
Her eyes snapped back to his. “I gave you my word I wouldn’t.”
“Yet you’re still hunting the Velvet Duke.” His voice dropped. “Which, as we’ve established, is me.”
She did not deny it. They stood in charged silence, the air between them humming with tension.
Then Austin exhaled slowly. “We could help each other, you know.”
Deena’s brow arched. “Help each other how?”
“I know every secret thetonwhispers. I could feed you stories, real ones, about men who deserve exposure. In return…” He let the words hang, watching her face. “You could be my shield.”
“Your shield?” she frowned.
“Every single woman wants me tonight. Debutantes, widows, their mamas. It’s a bloody circus. I need someone clever at my side who isn’t trying to trap me. Someone who can sift the genuine from the ambitious.”
Deena stared at him. “You want me to help you find a wife.”
“I want you to help me find therightwife.”
She gave a soft, incredulous laugh. “Is it truly so difficult? The infamous Velvet Duke is unable to secure a bride?”
