“Leonie.”
The sound of her name brought Leonie back to the moment. Lady Dervish, her mother’s friend, was hurrying toward her, pushing her way past the other guests with all the excitement of a hen about to lay eggs. “Leonie, I have been looking for you.Heis begging an introduction to you.”
“He?”
“The Duke of Camberly. He specifically asked for you and since we couldn’t find your mother—”
“Of course,” Leonie murmured.
“And why disturb your father?” Lady Dervish continued.
“He is undisturbable,” Leonie agreed.
“I thought to bring you to our latest duke myself.” She hooked her arm in Leonie’s. “My dear, he is delicious. And so well mannered. He said he saw you across the ballroom and is most anxious for an introduction.”
To both her and her dowry,Leonie could have added but held her peace. The duke had noticed her. She had scored her first point in this Season’s game.
Let Rochdale wonder where she’d gone off to.
Lethimstew about her whereabouts.
Of course, she could not resist, as Lady Dervish guided her to the dance floor, a backward glance at the card room.
Rochdale wasn’t to be seen, and Leonie cursed herself for having looked.
So, it was that she was introduced to Camberly at just the moment when she was ready to defy convention.
He had finished leading Lord Vetter’s daughter in a dance. The chit was practically hyperventilating from the experience and Leonie could understand why. Up close, the Duke of Camberly was even more handsome. His features were classic and even in contrast to Rochdale’s rough masculinity.
Camberly had eyes so blue they reminded her of a summer sky. His nose was strong without overpowering his face. His lips were well formed and full in the best spirit of a romantic noble.
He was young, perhaps only four years older than Leonie’s three and twenty years. He was muscular and strong and had a ready smile as if he was enjoying himself fully.
What was not to like?
In addition, if he asked her to dance, she would score three more points and let Rochdale know she didn’t give two snaps of her fingers whether he honored his request for a dance or not. She had other admirers.Ducaladmirers.
“Your Grace,” Lady Dervish fawned. “May I introduce you to Miss Leonie Charnock?”
Leonie was never fond of curtseying but she did so now. A deep curtsey, one that she knew allowed the very tall duke an excellent view of her assets. She was usually not one to flaunt herself, but her feminine pride had been stung.
His response did much to restore her hurt feelings. “Miss Charnock.” His voice was deep and warm. He took her gloved hand, helping her rise. “Those who have praised your beauty as more sparkling than the stars did not lie.”
Leonie quickly stifled a laugh at his blatant flattery, which seemed false and silly, especially considering his age. Old men garbled nonsense like this to her, and yet he seemed sincere. Perhaps he was shy? She then remembered Cassandra saying he fancied himself a poet.
“Your Grace is too kind,” she answered, wanting to take back the hand he still held.
“It is not kindness at all, but truth. I have heard much about you.”
And my fortune.
Leonie attempted her best to look demure and affected by his praise, reminding herself that men rarely expected an answer, especially of the cynical sort. Her mother had warned her long ago that, when around gentlemen, it was always best to say nothing. They would form their own conclusions.
“Will you do me the honor of this next dance?”
The one that she should have had with Rochdale?“I would be honored, Your Grace.”
He had never let go of her hand and now placed it on his arm. He led her to center of the floor. Such was the weight of an important title, the couples there made room for them, even switching groups if necessary.
