“Lord Warwick,” he said, dutifully greeting the earl first. “May I present my sisters, Lady Amelia and Lady Juliette?” He then proceeded to greet Lady Warwick and Lady Everly before Gabriella herself finally stepped forward. “You look enchanting tonight,” he told her sincerely, delighting in the soft blush that spread to her cheeks as though mimicking the kisses he could not give her.
“And you look every bit the dashing duke. I’m sure the ton is terribly impressed.”
Her compliment warmed his heart. “Thank you.” Bowing, he said, “I hope you’ll save a couple of dances for me.”
“If it were up to me,” she whispered, “I wouldn’t dance with anyone else.” With a mischievous smile that made him wish he could simply follow her into the ballroom, she swept after her parents and disappeared from his line of vision.
Muttering a curse, Raphe turned back to face the receiving line. It looked as though it might finally be diminishing. Thank God! Just ten more minutes, by his estimation. Which, as it turned out, was off by five. He tried not to look too relieved when the last person stepped forward to greet him. His sisters, however, did not share his tact. He caught Amelia by the wrist and practically forced her into a curtsy.
“Now can we go?” She asked when no other guests remained in the entryway.
Expelling a breath, Raphe gave her a very definite nod. “Yes.” He was in dire need of a drink. And of Gabriella’s company. The first was easily achieved with the help of a footman, the latter not so much, since Gabriella was already out on the dance floor by the time Raphe entered the ballroom. He studied her partner—some white-haired, dandy-looking fellow.
“She caught everyone’s attention the moment she arrived,” Coventry said as he came to stand next to him. He looked about. “Where are your lovely sisters?”
Raphe blinked. He’d forgotten all about them in his haste to find Gabriella. “I, err—over there,” he said, spotting the top of Amelia’s head.
“The competition looks stiff already,” Coventry remarked. “I’ll have to hurry if I’m to claim those dances I wanted. Back in a moment.”
Raphe stared after him, and then focused on the spot where his sisters were standing. They were completely surrounded by the largest assembly of gentlemen Raphe had ever seen. A frown wrinkled his brow. At this rate, they’d both be off to the altar before the end of the Season. And as much as he wanted to see them settled, he wasn’t so sure he was ready for it to happen quite so quickly. It was just too much—too many drastic changes in too short a time. He tossed back the glass of champagne he’d been nursing and snatched up a fresh one from a passing tray.
“Lady Juliette has graciously agreed to a country dance with me,” Coventry said when he returned to Raphe’s side a moment later, “And Lady Amelia has given me the waltz.”
Raphe almost choked on his drink. “The waltz? I bloody well told her—” He took a breath and lowered his voice to a murmur. “I thought she needed special permission to dance that.”
“You’re thinking of Almacks, old chap, but there are many—especially those of higher rank—who don’t give a fig about that. Some never even bother to go. And considering her age, which appears to be on the older side of twenty, if I’m not mistaken, and her position as a duke’s sister, I seriously doubt that anyone will think ill of her for waltzing without a voucher. Especially since none of Almacks’ patronesses appear to be here.”
Raphe flexed his fingers. “Nevertheless, I told both of my sisters not to dance that particular dance.”
“Then you’re fortunate I happened to claim it,” Coventry said, “Or it would have gone to Bartham, and that would have been a disaster.”
Raphe didn’t know who the hell Bartham was, but judging from Coventry’s tone, he instantly took a dislike to the man. “Then I suppose I ought to thank you?”
“No need,” Coventry said with a smile. “I’m happy to oblige.”
“What about Lady Juliette?” Raphe cleared his throat so he could get the necessary words out. “Is she waltzing as well?” Against her better judgment and against his approval. She suddenly seemed so young. They both did.
“Yes, but you needn’t worry. She’ll be partnering with Thimbly, who’s perfectly harmless. He’ll keep an appropriate amount of distance between them.”
With that assurance, Raphe excused himself from Coventry’s company and strode forward, moving closer to the dance floor so he’d be able to catch Gabriella’s attention when she was through with her dance. She approached him soon after, thanking her partner with a smile that made Raphe want to pummel the man. He held himself in check, reminded that her kindness was one of her best attributes. It was wrong of him to want to monopolize it. “I hope you’re still free for two dances,” he said as he offered her his glass without thinking.
She hesitated briefly before accepting it and taking a sip, her lips touching the rim where his own had been just a few minutes earlier. His veins thrummed to life with unexpected urgency, increasing the beat of his heart as her eyes met his. They might as well have been kissing each other with mad abandon in the middle of the ballroom for all the difference it made. The effect was certainly incinerating, and as he watched her lower the glass and draw a ragged breath, he knew she felt the same—that exquisite hunger that seemed forever prevalent.
“Of course,” she said, her eyes catching the light of the chandelier overhead. “There’s the next one—a cotillion.”
“And the other?”
She glanced away for a second before returning her gaze to his. “The waltz.”
He flexed his fingers. “I can scarcely wait.”
A pink blush crept over her skin. “Neither can I,” she told him softly. Then, in a more deliberate tone, “You must be pleased with how well this has turned out. I’ve heard several people praise the grandeur of it, which does suggest that the power behind your title is overshadowing any questions that might exist about your eligibility.”
“I suppose the ton’s shallowness may work in my favor,” he said dryly. “Richardson did most of the planning, which is why I invited him to join us.” Angling his head, he searched the room. “He’s over there with Amelia and her crowd of admirers.”
Gabriella chuckled. “I wonder which one she’ll pick.”
“Hopefully someone who won’t mind her boisterousness.” The tune to the next song started to play, so Raphe offered Gabriella his arm and began leading her back onto the dance floor. “I’d like for both of my sisters to marry someone who’ll accept them for who they are.”
