The room spun a bit as he came to his feet. He fixed Lady Sophia with a dismissive look of his own.
“Every female in London tosses themselves in your direction, yet that wasn’t enough, was it? You had to lure my daughter—” Canterbell clamped his mouth shut, before holding up a palm to Damon. “Apologies, my lord. I promised to hold my temper, but I am most…distressed.”
“I believe we all are,” Damon answered.
I don’t even find her appealing, let alone worthy of compromise.
Had he seen Lady Sophia on the street, or at one of the few society events he attended, she wouldn’t have attracted his notice. Hair a plain light brown. Eyes the same hue. Not too short or tall. A trifle plump. Unremarkable in every way.
Except for the mouth. That’s rather nice.
Maybe her bosom was lovely. Alexander couldn’t tell as it was hidden beneath the cloak.
No weeping. No quivering in shame for having been ruined. No sign of any humiliation at her situation. Only righteous indignation, as if by his mere presence, Alexander offended her.
“Your Grace.” Damon sounded exhausted to the very marrow of his bones.
“I’ve never seen this girl before in my life,” Alexander declared,almostcertain he had not. Ducal arrogance would make it completely true. Convince Canterbell of his error. He waved his hand in dismissal at the earl and his daughter. “Obviously, this is a fabrication. Perhaps Lady Sally—”
“Sophia,” she snarled back at him.
Alexander gave a roll of his shoulders, the only other movement he could manage without becoming dizzy. “My mistake.” He didn’t care what her name happened to be. A great many women had been kissed, fondled and seduced by him, and he had yet to forget a face, no matter his level of intoxication. This girl was unknown to him whether her pompous, overbearing father believed it or not. “I’m not sure who you were cavorting with in the Perswick gardens, only that it wasn’tme.”
She inhaled sharply.
Canterbell crossed his arms, eyes narrowing on Alexander.
“Timmons will show you out.” He wanted these two opportunists out of his house so that he could lie down. Perhaps send for Oakhurst and find out if he’d drank something out of the ordinary the previous evening. Gin, perhaps? From the Rookery?
“Are you calling me a liar, Roxboro?” Canterbell regarded him blandly. “Me. The Lord Speaker of Parliament.”
“My lord,” Damon said hurriedly. “I’m sure that isn’t what the duke is inferring.”
“No, I would never accuse you of lying.” He turned to Lady Whatever. “I’m accusing her. Your daughter.” Alexander pressed a finger to his forehead. Would this headache ever dissipate? If Oakhurst had plied him with tainted gin, Alexander would kill him, friend or not. “You might require spectacles. Or is it only that you wish to be a duchess and saw a chance at achieving such prominence?”
“You—” the girl dared to hiss at him.
“I saw you myself.” Canterbell came forward. “Lady Brokeburst watched you walk my daughter into the gardens, shortly before shedecided to inform half of Lady Perswick’s guests that she’d witnessed your lechery.”
“Impossible. I did not attend Lady Perswick’s ball,” Alexander protested, glancing at Damon. “She detests me.”
“I don’t wonder,” the savage little chit said under her breath.
“And,” Alexander continued with all certainty, “as such would never have invited me. Even had I decided to attend, which I did not, Lady Perswick would have denied me entry.”
That was an exaggeration. He was still a duke, though a disreputable one. Lady Perswick would have greeted him with a kiss to the cheek all the while murmuring her dislike.
“Interesting, Your Grace.” Canterbell’s cheeks had gone red with anger. “Lord Lacton stopped me as I led my daughter outside to our carriage while attempting to protect her from censure. Lacton had already heard the gossip spreading throughout the ballroom and confirmed he’d seen you. As did Lady Lacton. And Lady Stafford’s daughter, Hortensia, as she repeated to my lady wife,” he paused, “that she’d seen you lead Sophia out to the terrace.”
Alexander swallowed, at a loss for words. There were witnesses? To his appearance at a ball he never would have attended? “I was—”
“In your cups? A near constant state, I understand, given your love of spirits,” Canterbell interjected with disgust. “I doubt you know where you are half the time, Your Grace.”
“Canterbell,” Damon growled in warning.
The older man merely raised a brow at Alexander’s uncle, not at all intimidated. “Rest assured, there is no one in this room less pleased with this turn of events than I. Any other gentleman in London is preferable. Even Haywood would be an improvement,” he bit out.
That’s rather insulting.
