Page 56 of Denying the Duke (Lords and Ladies in Love 3)

The other two men looked over her shoulder and grimaced. Lord Campbell bowed to her. “May I have the pleasure of this dance, Your Grace?”

“Ah, clever, Cam. You grabbed the prettiest and least available woman in the room.” Mr. Templeton grinned at Cam as he led Patience to the dance floor, passing several matrons—with their daughters—headed toward Alex’s group.

The couples gathered and took their places as the orchestra began the country reel. She curtsied to Lord Campbell, he bowed to her, and the dance began. The movements did not allow for a great deal of conversation, but merely clips of words spoken as they joined hands, moved around each other, and made their way down the row of dancers.

“Are you enjoying your time in London thus far, Your Grace?” Lord Campbell took her hand as they switched places.

“Yes.” She grinned. “Well, actually, that would be the expected thing to say, but truthfully, it has been taxing.”

“Indeed?” He joined their hands as they moved in a circle. “What has been taxing you?”

By the grin on his face, she was sure he could not imagine anything about a duchess’s life that wasn’t all sweetness and light. “I have spent many a morning

acting as a pin cushion and draped in fabric until I daresay I would prefer to keep my existing wardrobe rather than subject myself to another modiste appointment.”

“Ah, strange words coming from a woman.” He twirled her around. “However, I can sympathize, as I do not relish visits to my tailor, either.”

The man was charming, and while they danced she caught more than one young lady glaring at her. There was indeed no point since she was married. Furthermore, she doubted Lord Campbell was on the search for a bride.

Then she remembered Lord Hawkins remark to Alex about being grateful for their attendance this evening. “Why would Lord Hawkins, and all of you it seems, be at this event at His Grace’s behest?”

Lord Campbell hesitated for a moment, which gave her pause as well. It almost appeared as if the man was trying to think of something to say that was a distant cousin to the truth. She raised her brows as she waited for his response.

Once more they joined hands and moved in a circle. “Your husband has not spent much time being scrutinized by the ton. He asked that we present ourselves tonight to help ease him into the torture.” His grin was a bit forced, but without calling the man a liar, she had to acquiesce to his answer.

She tipped her head in acknowledgment of his words. Shortly after, the dance ended and he returned her to Alex’s side.

Chapter Eighteen

Hours later, Patience turned to seek out the ladies’ retiring room and walked straight into Lord Hawkins. He jumped back. “I am so sorry, Your Grace.”

She waved away his apology and sighed. She was growing wearier and more annoyed by the minute. From the moment she and Alex had arrived, she’d been followed by him or one of his three friends everywhere she went. They had all four danced with her—twice—and driven away other potential partners with a glower, which they thought she hadn’t noticed.

She had.

What she found confusing was the reason for it. Did Alex not trust her? As a newly married matron, she was certainly not high on the list of young gentlemen to pursue. Although, truth be known, aside from the Four Guardians—as she had begun to call them in her head—she’d never had so much attention at an affair. It seemed all the gentlemen who had passed her by previously, the few times she had been at Polite Society balls and such, now found her more interesting as a married woman. She hated what that inferred.

“May I escort you somewhere?” Lord Hawkins offered her his arm.

“Thank you, my lord, but that is not necessary.” She moved to go around him, but he stepped to his right. “Ah, but I insist. ’Tis such a large crowd tonight. I would hate to see you lost in the throng.”

Rather than cause a scene, she took his arm and offered more of a grimace than a smile. Apparently choosing to ignore it, Lord Hawkins maneuvered them through the crowd. Once they were in the corridor, he said, “I assume you are headed to the ladies’ retiring room?”

Good heavens, certainly he wasn’t planning on escorting her right to the door. “Yes, thank you for your escort, my lord. I will be fine from here.” She turned, hurried down the corridor, and escaped into the room set aside for the ladies.

Once inside, she gave a sigh of relief and quickly took care of her business. She spent about ten more minutes refreshing herself with a cool lavender cloth provided by the maid in attendance, and resting her feet with a lie-down on a chaise longue. Feeling much better after her respite, she left the room to find Lord Campbell leaning against the wall across from the portal, his arms crossed over his chest.

This was becoming ridiculous. “Surely you are not waiting for me?”

He pushed himself away from the door and walked toward her as if guarding a prized possession. “Of course, Your Grace. Bedford was stopped on his way here by Lord Tillerson to discuss some matter of Parliament. Not that I think Bedford has any interest in the matter right now. He needs to get his feet under him first.” He extended his arm, but she resisted.

“My lord, I do not need you, Lord Hawkins, or my husband to escort me around this home as if I were a child wandering about, ready to stumble down a dark staircase.”

He backed up, his eyes wide. “Your Grace, I assure you, no one would believe you are a child.” If he meant his words to be a compliment, they fell short.

She raised her chin and swept past him, ignoring his outstretched arm. “If you will excuse me, I would like a word with my husband.”

Actually, she would like several words with the man. And none of them would be pleasant. She tamped down her urge to stomp her foot as she heard Lord Campbell follow her along the corridor and down the stairs to the ballroom. Her anger grew as she watched Alex break away from Lord Tillerson and make his way toward her.