In all honesty, Nathaniel hardly recognized her. Or perhaps it was himself he could not recognize in the intensity of his reaction to seeing Bess surrounded by admiring men begging her for a dance.
He wanted to take them apart, one by one, with his bare hands. And then he wanted to pull every stitch of the clothing he’d bought for her off her body and put his mark on her in a way no one would ever mistake again.
“Your Grace?” Miss Devensham prompted, smiling tensely. “Shall we rejoin Mama?”
“Yes, of course,” Nathaniel said, with a short bow. He glanced at the gentleman closest to them. “Lord Edgewood?”
The stripling turned with a quizzical look on his affable face. “Ah, Ashbourn! Didn't see you there! Quite a crush tonight, what?”
“Quite. Would you be so kind as to escort the lovely Miss Devensham back to her mother? I must speak with Mrs. Pickford about a matter of great importance.”
As he spoke, Nathaniel smoothly transferred Miss Devensham's gloved hand from his arm to the crook of Edgewood's elbow.
“But—” the girl began, just as Edgewood blinked and stammered, “Why, certainly, I’d be honored, don’t you know.”
“I am in your debt.” Nathaniel gave the startled pair another brief bow, curt enough to border on rudeness, and turned back to the task of looming over the men who stood between him and the belle of tonight's ball.
One by one, the gentlemen who’d flocked to her side and blocked Nathaniel’s way became aware of the large, incensed duke breathing down the back of their necks. One by one, they blanched and moved aside. Until finally he stood before Mrs. Pickford...who gave him a single cool glance before turning aside to continue her conversation with Earl Adair.
It was like a red flag waved beneath the nose of a bull.
Nathaniel strode forward, intending—he hardly knew what. Intending to blacken Adair’s eye for him, because he had the effrontery to admire a beautiful woman in a beautiful dress?
Momentum carried Nathaniel close enough to hear Adair saying, “Ah, Siren, do not tell me the dinner dance has already been claimed, or I shall throw myself from the balcony in despair.”
“Nonsense,” the siren replied in her pragmatic way. “The balcony is half a story up, at most. All you would accomplish is to break your ankle.”
Adair laughed, utterly charmed, and Nathaniel nearly snarled audibly. He must have made some noise, in fact, because Mrs. Pickford turned her narrow gaze to Nathaniel and said, “How kind of you to spare a moment for us, Your Grace.”
“Where the devil is my sister,” he demanded.
Her expression chilled a degree further. “Lucy is dancing with Lord Meriwether, at the moment. Which you would know if you had greeted us when we arrived. But as you can see, we have managed tolerably well without you.”
A hot wash of shame shocked through him. She was entirely correct; he ought to have made a point to escort his sister to her first ball.
His business could have waited. He should’ve ridden with them in the carriage and introduced Lucy to their hostess himself.
The realization that he had failed in his self-appointed duty made his back teeth clench. “May I have a word with you in private?”
“Poor show,” protested Adair. “Give the other fellows a chance, Ashbourn!”
“This lady is meant to be chaperoning Lady Lucy,” Nathaniel snapped. “She hasn't the time to waste on flirting.”
Color suffused her cheeks. It was damnably pretty. “Surely a private conference is unnecessary, Your Grace. I wouldn’t wish to take you away from your charming dance partner. Lucy is perfectly well, as I have already said.”
“My dance partner has returned to her mother,” Nathaniel replied through gritted teeth. “I require a moment of your time, nothing more.”
Without waiting for acquiescence, he smoothly tucked her hand through the crook of his elbow and swept her toward the refreshment table. In moments, they’d left her bevy of disappointed admirers behind.
“You are causing a scene,” she murmured under her breath, clearly flustered.
Having her on his arm, away from those other slavering males, undressing her with their eyes and coveting her attention, soothed something in Nathaniel’s chest. It was replaced with a naked possessiveness he knew would ruin him if he gave it free rein.
“There is nothing inappropriate in taking a turn about the room with my sister’s chaperone,” he said coolly. “Certainly no more inappropriate than that same chaperone ignoring her duties in favor of dazzling every male with a pulse and working eyesight.”
Her flush deepened and spread. “You are the one who ignored us! I can tell you exactly where Lucy is, I’ve hardly taken my eyes off her for a moment. She’s right over—oh!”
Nathaniel followed her dismayed gaze across the ballroom to where Lucy stood near a door that must lead to the ladies’ retiring room. He relaxed when he saw that no importunate suitors had accosted her; rather, she was in the company of several other young ladies.
