Page 61 of The Wedding-Crashing Duchess

“Next week.”

“And you have already accepted?”

“Yes,” Augusta replied. “Temperance is a friend, and I have been absent from society since the wedding, so remaining hidden at Ravenhill would only encourage further gossip.”

“I thought you disliked gossip.”

“I do, although I dislike allowing it to dictate where I may go even more,” Augusta said. “You may join us if you wish, although I know you do not enjoy balls, and I do not expect you to attend merely on my account.”

Ronan studied her. “You have decided that I will refuse.”

“I have heard your opinion of society, propriety, crowded rooms, and people who speak without meaning anything, so I think the conclusion is reasonable.”

“You are going with Charity?”

“Yes, and Duncan will be there.”

Ronan looked down at Sarah, then towards the fire.

“I will consider it,” he said.

Augusta stared at him. “Which sounds suspiciously like a duke’s method of avoiding a direct answer.”

As she shifted to reach for her teacup, Ronan adjusted his position, and his leg brushed against hers.

The contact was slight, although Augusta felt it as sharply as though he had touched her with his hand.

She became still as Ronan’s leg remained against hers, warm through the layers of fabric, while the space between them suddenly seemed much smaller than it had a moment before. Her palms began to grow damp, and her attention moved again to the open collar of his shirt.

She tried to look at Sarah instead, although that only made her more aware of Ronan’s arm around the child and the quiet strength in his body.

What was wrong with her?

“Augusta?” Ronan asked.

She looked at him too quickly. “Yes?”

“Are you well?”

“Perfectly.”

“You do not look well.”

“I am only warm.”

Ronan glanced towards the fire.

“You said I would not freeze, although perhaps you have placed us too close to it.”

“The fire is not the problem.”

He frowned. “What is?”

“Nothing.”

Ronan shifted Sarah carefully against one arm, then lifted his free hand towards Augusta. She had no time to move before the back of his fingers touched her forehead.

Augusta’s entire body went rigid.