Page 2 of Raising the Duke’s Unexpected Twins

Nicholas strode toward her, a chuckle already threatening at his lips. Whatever had brought her to the ball dressed in such a ridiculous costume, he intended to find out.

Cordelia watched him approach and stiffened, her usual reaction to his presence. Lovely chin lifted, arms crossed, deep brown eyes ready to spit fire. The sight of her reaction to him made him smile each time he saw it, for it only made him think of just how sweet it would be to ease that tension from her body and make her putty in his hands just like so many others. He always did enjoy a challenge, and she was the only woman of his acquaintance who did not fall at his feet when he turned on his charm.

When he got close enough, she cleared her throat and said, “Well, it seems the ladies are already running from you. And it not yet 8 o’clock. We are only on the second dance. I thought you were more charming than that, Your Grace.”

Nicholas took his place at her side, staring out at the beginning of the second dance, and leaned slightly into her.

“I see that you are not running, Miss Debrett. Does that mean that you are the lucky woman who is attempting to steal my heart? You would be welcome to much more than that, of course.”

Cordelia scoffed and flipped her dark brown hair. A light breath of rosebud filled his nostrils.

“Most assuredly not, Your Grace. I remain where I am, for I am no frightened bird, and I do not wish to upset my dear friends, Lord and Lady Riverton, by being rude to you.”

“Our friends,” he corrected. “No, you are certainly not a frightened bird, for it is a very bold choice to dress as a…witch, is it? Or perhaps, let me guess…” He tapped a finger on his chin, and then he snapped his fingers. “Katherina from The Taming of the Shrew.”

He could see her stiffen even more out of the corner of his eye, but he knew she would not give in to his teasing so easily. It had always been this way between them, and it was one of his favorite pastimes, to see the ire rise in her lovely, dark eyes, eyes which were unable to conceal her exact feelings at any given moment.

“No, I am not Katherina,” she said sternly, turning towards him, and he face her. “You had guessed rightly at first. A witch, one of the three witches. I would have thought Macbeth would have known better.” She lifted a brow, and he couldn’t help but grin back at her.

Slowly, he looked her up and down, taking in her dark ragged gown, her long brown hair let down freely, topped with a ragged brown hat.

“And the other two witches are…”

He caught the faintest tinge of a blush in her cheeks. “My sisters. But they are dancing now, so…” she blinked furiously, something he noticed she did when irritated and frazzled. “It of course does not make as much sense on its own.”

She turned away from him, grasping quickly for a glass of punch as a tray passed by and took a long sip as her eyes turned once more to the busy ballroom. “Why, Macbeth, I wonder?” she asked. “A man firmly under his wife’s influence, who is willing to do dark deeds in order to fulfill her wishes. That does not sound like you at all. You are far more interested in fulfilling your own wishes.”

Nicholas laughed, the sound of it catching the eye of one or two couples standing nearby. Cordelia never held back from sparring with him, and it was rather refreshing.

“You have pegged me correctly, Miss Debrett. It is all just for show. I do like to play the tragic figure, you know.”

She rolled her eyes again, making a scoffing sound in her throat.

He thought briefly of that memory of David once more, telling him of his future of love. “Who knows? Perhaps I will find a woman whose deepest wishes I should like to…fulfill.”

His voice lowered, and he watched her fidget under his usual banter. Cordelia did not like him one bit and never had, ever since their first encounter three years before when they’d been introduced by Helen at a ball.

That makes it all the more fun.

He glanced to the young singer again, and she was fanning her face, eyes still on him from across the room. She could wait. He had all evening. Looking back at Cordelia, he continued.

“More likely, you would prefer the story of Katherina, a story I so thoroughly dislike. A woman beset by teasing, manipulative men and forced into submission and into marriage in the end? I should think that is more your kind of woman. I should never wish to play her as a character.”

“Ah...” he said, his voice growing softer as he took a long sip of wine. “But my dear Miss Debrett, submission and the act of taming can be so very pleasant. I would be very glad to show you, if you like. I am rather experienced in such matters.”

This time, he could hear Cordelia suck in a harsh breath, and her cheeks reddened to the color of his wine.

“You are a rake of the highest order,” she snapped back at him in a whisper. “I should wonder you are spending this time with me when there is an entire ballroom of ladies to plunder.”

She blushed even deeper as he tutted. “What bold language from such an innocent young lady. Yes, I shall admit of my rakish behavior. What of it? There is hardly a man in this room who could not claim to be so.”

At that, Cordelia let out a harsh laugh. “My father was no rake. I can tell you that.”

Nicholas knew he could not tease her about that. Miss Debrett’s father had died when she was only fifteen, so Helen had once told him. And with both his parents gone, his mother at birth, and his father at eighteen, loathsome brute as he was, he knew it was no teasing matter.

“You are very lucky that you can think well of your father,” he said kindly, drawing her surprised gaze to him.

Their eyes met for a few brief moments before the song ended, and the couples parted, the orchestra priming their instruments for the next set. The room filled once more with buzz and chatter as new pairings were made, and fresh couples filled the ballroom floor. Nicholas’s gaze once more trailed to the young singer who was still watching him, this time with a wider smile, giving him a slight nod.