Page 89 of The Wedding-Crashing Duchess

Charity’s smile widened. “Augusta was coming.”

Duncan laughed quietly. “That was the whole argument, and apparently it was enough.”

Augusta’s cheeks colored again, and Ronan became increasingly convinced that everyone had been discussing his marriage without the courtesy of including him.

Stephen rescued them by speaking about the renovations Hetherford had made to the ballroom, while Maria joined Charity in discussing the hostess, and for several minutes the conversation moved easily enough that Ronan almost relaxed. He remained near Augusta, however, noticing the small movements she made beside him and the way she occasionally glanced at him as though she too had become aware that there was considerably less space between them tonight than there usually was.

Then Gregory arrived.

Ronan saw him before Augusta did, because Gregory was making his way through the crowd with the sort of cheerful confidence that allowed him to behave as though every gathering existed primarily for his entertainment. He greeted Duncan and Stephen first, exchanged a bow with Charity and Maria, then turned toward Augusta and smiled with enough warmth that Ronan’s irritation returned before the man had even opened his mouth.

“Lady Ravenhill,” Gregory said, allowing his gaze to pass over her gown with open appreciation, “I had prepared several remarks about how delighted I was to see Ravenhill voluntarily appear in society, but I am afraid you have made all of them irrelevant, because no sensible man should be looking at him while you are standing beside him. You look extraordinary.”

Augusta smiled. “Thank you. At least someone tonight appears capable of producing a proper compliment.”

Ronan knew that was directed at him.

Gregory knew it too. The bastard’s eyes brightened.

Before Ronan had consciously decided to move, his hand settled against Augusta’s waist, his palm fitting around the curve through the smooth fabric of her gown, and the contact affected them both immediately. Augusta’s breath altered and the color returned to her face, while Ronan felt the warmth of her through the thin layers beneath his hand and had the deeply inconvenient memory of touching her in precisely the same place the night before.

Ronan tightened his hand slightly.

Gregory’s mouth curved.

“Whatever you are thinking,” Ronan said quietly, “stop.”

Gregory looked delighted. “I have not said a word.”

Augusta glanced between them, but her attention seemed divided, because Ronan could feel the small rise and fall of her breathing beneath his hand and knew she was as aware of his touch as he was. When she shifted slightly, rather than moving away from him, she came closer, and Ronan’s fingers tightened again before he could remind himself that standing in a crowded ballroom was not the place to explore whatever had begun happening between them.

Gregory, naturally, made the situation worse. “Since Ravenhill has already fulfilled the astonishing obligation of appearing, I suppose it would be unreasonable to expect him to dance as well, which means I should probably offer my services before some less charitable gentleman claims your first set.”

Gregory looked back with perfect innocence.

Augusta turned her head slightly, and Ronan could feel the movement beside him. “Yes, the duke doesn’t like dancing much.”

Gregory smiled. “Then the matter is settled. Have this first dance on me.”

Ronan looked at his friend. No, he glared at him with an annoyance that he had never felt for him before.

It wasn’t so unusual for a woman to be asked for a dance, yet Ronan could not fathom the possibility of Augusta dancing with someone this night who was not him.

“No,” Ronan said. “There will be no need for that.”

Augusta’s brows rose. “I’m not sure if I quite understand what is happening here?”

Ronan turned toward her before Gregory could speak again. “Dance with me.”

For one second she simply stared. Then the surprise in her expression softened into something that made him suddenly glad he had asked.

“You truly want to dance?” she said, in disbelief. “Even though you told me, quite sincerely, that balls are tedious and dancing is worse?”

“I have reconsidered, and I am allowed to change my mind,” he said.

Gregory made a suspicious sound but Ronan ignored him.

Augusta’s smile grew. “What brought about this remarkable change of heart?”