Page 93 of The Wedding-Crashing Duchess

He wanted to ask what she meant. Before he could find the courage or the language, the music ended.

Applause moved through the ballroom while couples bowed and separated, and Augusta withdrew her hand from his with a smile that was perfectly acceptable for anyone who happened to be watching. Ronan hated that smile, because he had begun to know the difference between the ones she gave society and the ones she gave him, and this one belonged entirely to society.

“Thank you for the dance,” she said.

Ronan tightened his grip on his cane. “Augusta.”

“I am going to get some air. It is rather warm.”

“I will come with you.”

“There is no need,” she replied, glancing toward where Charity and Maria stood only a short distance away.

Ronan knew she was using practicality to end the discussion. But stopping her in the middle of the ballroom would only humiliate her.

So he stepped aside as Augusta turned and moved through the crowd.

For several seconds Ronan watched her go, expecting her to stop beside Charity, but she only exchanged a few words with her sister before continuing toward the tall doors that opened onto the terrace. Charity looked after her, then toward Ronan, and even from across the room he could see the question in her expression.

He had no answer for her.

He had wanted to tell Augusta she was beautiful from the moment he saw her downstairs. And when she finally asked him directly, he had behaved as though she had requested an analysis of the cloth.

“The color suits you.” Ronan closed his eyes briefly.

He had been foolish for not speaking up clearly.

“What did you do?” Gregory had arrived beside him. “I suspect the Duchess seems a bit upset, so surely you must have said something to her.”

“Go away,” he tried to wave off his friend.

“That bad?”

Ronan opened his eyes and continued looking toward the terrace doors. “I have no idea what you are talking about.”

“Yes, you do. Augusta walked away looking miserable, and you are staring after her as though you have set fire to your own house. Since she appeared quite happy when you dragged her away from me to dance, I am going to assume the disaster happened somewhere between the first measure and the last.”

“I did not drag her anywhere; she came willingly.”

Gregory sighed. “That is the part of my sentence you chose to dispute?”

Ronan finally looked at him. “She asked whether I liked her dress.”

Gregory waited, and Ronan already knew what was coming.

“And?” Gregory prompted.

“I said yes.”

Gregory stared at him for a long moment. “I don’t understand what the problem is then?”

Ronan’s irritation sharpened. “She asked whether I liked it, and I answered the question.”

Gregory’s eyebrows rose, and then his expression became almost comically pleased. “You have spent all evening threatening me with your eyes whenever I mention that your wife is beautiful, yet when the woman herself asks whether you think so, you apparently transform into someone incapable of a compliment?”

“I also told her the color suited her.”

Gregory shut his eyes.