When she saw the Duke storming toward her, he had looked incensed, which she assumed was on account of her injury. Apparently, he hadn’t even known that she was injured, which made her wonder why he was so angry in the first place.
His anger was for Carrowell… but not because he thought the lord was responsible for my ankle. That begs the question, why was he so filled with fury? Was it because… because he saw the man leading me away?
The mere thought of that made her heart flutter. That the Duke was so protective of her that he would be brought to such a rage at the idea that another was trying to steal her...
“It is not so bad,” Yvette said shyly. “Merely a sprain.”
“I was going to retrieve some ice…” Carrowell looked around, seemingly desperate to remove himself from the circumstance.
“Not here.” The Duke looked around them, and she saw him take note of those who were nearby. People were starting to stare, and more were starting to whisper. “Somewhere more private… There are rooms just beyond the hall, one of those should be free to use.”
The Duke stepped close to Yvette, and she expected him to offer a hand for her to stand, that he would help her walk through thehall and to one of these spare rooms. The Duke, however, had other ideas.
Without another word said, he crouched down, slipped his hands under her legs and back, and lifted her into the air as if she weighed nothing.
“Oh!” she yelped in surprise.
“I have you,” he told her as his strong arms held her tight to his body.
Her arms went naturally around his neck, and soon their faces were inches apart. “I know that you do,” she said sheepishly. “I trust you.”
Yvette’s heart thundered in her chest. Her body trembled. And a warm sensation spread through her limbs so that she was sure that the Duke could feel how hot she had suddenly become. But she kept a hold of his eyes, wanting him to see her gratitude… and how comfortable she was.
Around them, she sensed people watching on. And she noticed Carrowell take a step back in surprise at how forward the Duke was being. But still, the Duke carried her, no sense at all that he cared what others thought of his actions.
“Shall I…” Carrowell cleared his throat. “I shall fetch the ice and come find you. Yes… that is… I will be right back.”
The Duke did not spare a glance for his friend, just as he did not waste time looking at the crowd. With Yvette held firm in his arms, he carried her down the length of the ballroom and out a side doorway that led into an expansive hall. There, he walked a little further until they came upon a spare room.
He carried her into the room, aiming for a double bed in the corner. She guessed this to be a room for guests of the manor; it was richly decorated and the décor was splendid, but it also felt empty and not lived in.
The Duke reached the cot and gently placed her down…
“Careful,” he said as she settled. “Watch your ankle.” He was so gentle with her, so careful not to touch her ankle or hurt it. “You did this dancing?” Without asking, his hands slipped down her leg and wrapped her calf so that he could better see her swollen ankle.
Yvette’s entire body shook with nervous energy. The Duke was crouched right in front of her. Her leg was in his hands. They were alone, and such was the closeness of the scene that if anyone came in and found them, it would surely create a scandal.
She also did not care.
“My fault,” she said as the Duke held her leg out, ensuring the ankle did not touch the ground. She did her best to ignore the way his hand held her leg, the feel of his fingers on her skin, theway her skin prickled at his touch, so that she could feel it in her heart. “I… I got a little carried away and slipped.”
“Yes…” He focused on her ankle, as if he was afraid to look her in the eyes. “I saw that you were enjoying yourself.”
“I was,” she said, noting the change in tone. “Is that a problem?”
“What?” His eyes widened, he glanced at ger, then looked away. “Not at all. I just meant… if I had been the one dancing with you, I would have made sure that you did not fall.”
“And why weren’t you?” she asked. “The one dancing with me.”
It surprised her when he smiled. She thought he would shy away again. She assumed he would realize what he was implying and do as he always did; that being, changing the subject. But his smile was earnest and pure, and he looked at her properly, no shyness, no sense of shame.
Her heart flipped when she realized what the look in his eyes meant.
No… it can’t be…
“Next time,” he said softly, still with a wry smile. “I missed my chance tonight, but I owe you a dance.”
“I would like that,” she said, her heart racing. “Very much.”
