“He’s such a rake.”
“Isn’t he handsome tonight?”
“And the older he gets, the more handsome he becomes.”
“I do believe he’s wearing his hair a little longer this year.”
“Makes him look even more like a devilish rogue, doesn’t it?”
The ladies laughed, and Louisa moved closer to the lady in the chair beside her. The room was so crowded, she didn’t think the woman would notice that she was listening to their conversation. She was intrigued by what they said, and amazed she could even hear the ladies with the music and all the other loud chatter going on in the room.
“Hush, now, all of you.” Still another lady, farther down the line, said, “Of course he will favor us. He always has, and I’m certain he always will.”
“At least until he marries.”
“If he marries.”
“Of course he will. He’ll need an heir.”
“I heard he wasn’t going to marry that Miss Prim. Has anyone heard any more about that?”
Louisa stiffened. The ladies had no way of knowing who she was. She wasn’t even sure any of them had noticed her standing there.
“He would have married her long ago if he was going to.”
“My brother said the duke is waiting so long because he is hoping she will marry someone else.”
Several of the ladies laughed.
“I’ve heard she’s going to be here tonight. Has anyone seen her?”
Louisa remained as straight and stiff as if a rod were in her back. She would have no choice but to admit who she was if the lady she was standing next to turned to her and asked her name.
“Look. He’s coming this way. Quiet now, and smile. Here he comes.”
“See, I told you he would pay his respects to us before he asks any other lady to dance.”
“Which of us do you think he’ll pick?”
“I was the first one he danced with last year,” said a woman who looked as if she could be the oldest lady sitting in the line.
“It was I who was first the year before that.”
“I was picked first one year, too,” another lady said.
Louisa marveled that these ladies were bragging about who was the first of the Season to dance with the duke. Obviously, not many gentlemen treated them to a dance, or else the duke’s favor wouldn’t be so important to them.
Louisa watched as His Grace stopped and bowed before each lady, taking her hand and kissing it, saying a few words before straightening and moving on to the next one and doing exactly the same thing again.
He was getting closer to the end of the line, closer to her. She should hurry away before he looked up and saw her. He’d never know she’d been there, because he didn’t let his eyes wander around the room or sneak a peek at the next lady in line while he was talking to whoever was in front of him. He wasn’t kissing air or looking as if he’d rather be anywhere else. He gave whomever he was talking to his full attention and, as the lady had said, the respect they deserved for their age and their position be they widow, spinster, or dowager.
She kept thinking she needed to leave before he saw her, but she couldn’t make her feet move. When he rose from talking to the last lady, he found himself standing before Louisa. She thought she saw surprise in his eyes—but couldn’t be sure because he was too good at hiding all his emotions except annoyance. She’s seen that one more than once.
Louisa curtsied, looked into his beautiful green eyes, and whispered, “Your Grace.”
He bowed and said, “Miss Prim.”
He reached for her gloved hand, and the second his fingers closed around hers, she felt a blanket of warmth as if she were standing in front of a roaring fire. He kissed the back of her hand and then stepped between her and the row of ladies.
