No one told Ash what to do.
“Excellent,” Baron said before he could speak. “We are grateful for your hospitality.”
“And now you can dance and enjoy yourselves.” The duchess held out her hand to Ash. “Come.”
“I don’t dance.”
“I’m sure you were taught alongside your brother.” She tugged him to his feet with a surprising amount of force. “We will muddle through together.”
He couldn’t make a scene, so he followed, trying to remember the last time he danced.
“I have not danced in many years, Duchess.”
“Eden, and we are all friends or family here. If you fall on your face, we shall simply pick you up, laugh at you, but only a little, then carry on.”
She nudged him into a line of men.
“The woman is a force of nature,” the man to his right said.
He had dark hair and green eyes, and Ash guessed he too was a Sinclair.
“I’m Harry.” He held out his hand, and Ash shook it. “I’m pleased you are here, Ash. Something has been missing inside Gus. I think he’s now located it.”
“I am not staying.” Ash would never give in to the surge of elation those words had made him feel. His brother had always been a better person than him. He would likely forgive when he knew the story… well, some of it at least. There were parts he would tell no one.
“That’s a shame.”
The music started, and he dug deep into his memory and tried to remember the steps. He saw her then: Dorset Sinclair, smiling at the man she partnered. So sweet. The kind of sweetness that being near someone like him would taint.
“Hand, Ash.”
He held out his hand to the duchess. She then proceeded to give him instruction through the dance. He only stumbled once, and a large hand to his right steadied him. Gus. Ash nodded, then moved away.
This place was not good for him. Being here brought back memories of the lives they’d wanted as boys. The dreams of castles and estates. Women and children. Family and belonging. Ash wanted to snarl at the thought of his father.Traitor.
“And now I shall partner my husband, and you can partner Dorrie,” the duchess said when the dance finished.
“I don’t think—”
“Men thinking? What has the world come to,” she said, moving to intercept her husband.
He was left facing her. Dorset Sinclair.
“Are you having a nice time?” she asked as the waltz started.
Christ.He didn’t want to get that close to this woman or stomp on her toes.
“You put your hand in the middle of my back, and then take my fingers in yours,” she instructed him.
“I have no wish to waltz.”
“Never mind, it shall be over soon, and you can go back to your seat and recommence scowling.” Her smile reached her eyes. She took his hand, raised his arm, and then they were moving.
“Now, I need to reconfirm with you that under no circumstances can you tell any of the people of Raven or Sinclair blood that I saved your life.”
“Even though you did.”
He kept a distance between them, but her body still brushed his now and then. He was so tense, it was amazing he didn’t shatter right there on the dance floor.
