A duke never…
A duke will…
A duke always…
Old lessons, deeply ingrained, that had made him the perfect outer shell of a duke, but a terrible man inside. A bombardment since birth of how he should behave, how he should be, how he should appear, how he should do what he was told until he was the one telling others what to do.
His grip tightened on Frances’ wrist, pulling her closer. “If you were so concerned with what is proper and correct, you would not be here.” He gazed into her shining eyes. “So, I shall ask you again, and you shall be honest this time—what troubles you, Frances? Why are you here?”
“I told you,” she whispered back, breathless. “To… reassure you.”
“Because you enjoyed dancing with me?” he asked. “Do you feel as if you should not have done?”
She lowered her gaze, dropping her chin to her chest.
He acted before he could think, his fingertips sliding beneath her chin, gently tilting her head back up. Needing her to look at him.
“I… I…” she murmured, trembling slightly.
He leaned in, and her hands came up to touch his chest, as if to feel his heart beating. In response, his arm slipped loosely around her, his hand pressing lightly against her back. As if he were merely helping her to keep her balance, to ease her shaking.
Yet, it seemed to have the opposite effect, as she trembled even more in that unexpected embrace.
If he dipped his head just a little more, he could kiss her. If she were to stand up on tiptoe, she could kiss him. The thought became an electric thing, crackling in the air between them, and though he could not read hermind, he saw her gaze flit to his lips as if she were thinking the same thing.
“I should…” she breathed.
“Yes?”
“I should… go.” The last word emerged as a gasp, her hands lightly pushing him back as she broke free.
Blushing furiously, she dipped into the quickest curtsy, not forgetting her manners, and rushed for the door before Dominic had a second to try and convince her to stay.
As she vanished from sight, it was like a fever breaking, bringing sharp clarity to Dominic’s mind. He had lost control. He had acted like the very kind of gentleman that Frances had run from.
He ran for the open door and halted in the hallway, looking this way and that to see where she had gone. Every instinct urged him to pursue her, to apologize for his behavior, but that would probably alarm her more.
What have you done?He swept a hand through his hair as he heard distant footsteps fading into silence.Dominic, what have you done?
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The following morning, Frances was not there at breakfast, though Dominic made certain to be in the breakfast room early. Harriet was not there either, apparently using last night’s dinner party as a reason to revert to her old habits.
He waited, long after he had finished the eggs and toast that he had no appetite for. He waited until the servants began to look uneasy, no doubt wondering what he was doing. He waited until he had read through the newspaper thrice and had consumed far more coffee than was, perhaps, wise.
Frances did not appear… and he understood why.
“Could someone fetch Miss Bright here, please?” he asked, when he could wait no longer.
One of the footmen frowned. “Miss Bright?”
“The maid that Lady Frances brought with her,” Dominic replied. “I need to speak with her.”
The footman bowed his head. “Of course, Your Grace. I’ll find her at once.”
He left the room with the haste of a man who was relieved to have something interesting to do, while the two other servants in the room stood awkwardly. There was nothing for them to do, probably eager to get on with the rest of their day, but they could do nothing while Dominic was still there.
“You are dismissed,” he said, to put them out of their misery. “The table can be cleared later.”
