Page 37 of If the Duke Demands

“Very much,” she said softly. Then she leaned in closer, as if sharing an intimate secret. “Oh, Sebastian, it’s the most wonderful night of my life!”

His chest warmed at that, and the sparkle in her eyes captured his imagination. She was so full of life and energy, filled with happiness and joy…and all because of a ball like any of the dozen or so grand balls that would be held this season. For half the young ladies present, tonight’s ball was just another boring evening in a long string of season soirees. But for Miranda, it was a fairy tale come true.

“I’m glad,” he returned in the same secretive voice. “You deserve a special night.” Then he paused, asking carefully, “And your first waltz? Has it been claimed?”

She nodded with a widening smile. “Robert offered for it.”

“Good.” He should have felt relieved that his brother had stepped up to do his duty. Instead, he worried that the excitement she felt would only make her nervous again, and he didn’t think his brother could tolerate another conversation about John Milton or Belgian lace. Then he instructed, despite the strange tightening in his chest, “Don’t be afraid to enjoy yourself with him.”

“Enjoy myself?” she repeated with an exaggerated pretense of being offended. “I thought I had to be painfully proper tonight and avoid all potentially scandalous behavior with gentlemen. Not draw unwanted attention to myself, not go onto the terrace or into the gardens, not be alone with any gentleman.” She teasingly threw his earlier warnings back at him with a mockingly innocent wave of her fan at each one. “Not do…anything.”

His jaw tightened.Impertinent chit.“Robert doesn’t count. He’s a Carlisle.” And unfortunately for Miranda, the next best thing to a nanny tonight, given how little his brother had seemed to notice her once Miss Morgan arrived. “We’re your guardians this summer.Weare allowed to spend time alone with you.” When he saw her brow start to jut up in challenge at that unwritten rule of society propriety, he interjected, “Just be yourself with him.”

A shadow fell across her lovely face. “That’s the problem, though, isn’t it? I’m always myself when I’m around him, which is never—”

Her eyes widened as an idea struck her.

Sebastian’s heart skipped in warning. Whenever Miranda got that look on her face, trouble always followed.

“Perhaps I shouldn’t be myself.” Her body tightened visibly as she contemplated the thought, as if a coil of excitement curled inside her, getting ready to spring. “Perhaps I should be Lady Rose with him and—”

“No.”

She stared at him, her eyes blinking hard at his outburst.

Good Lord. The unexpected force of the single word surprised even him.

“Enjoyment,” he corrected, immediately composing himself and pushing down whatever madness had just seized him at her mention of Lady Rose. With Robert. “Not ruination.”

Mercifully, the orchestra gave a flourish to signal the start of the first waltz, which gave him an excuse to leave before he said anything else that made him look like a jealous nodcock. Which he certainly wasn’t. Not at all.

“Your first society waltz is starting, Miss Hodgkins.” He glanced past her shoulder. He didn’t catch a glimpse of Robert in the nearby crowd, but somewhere in the crush of bodies, his brother would be making his way to her for the dance. Just as he needed to make his way to Lady Jane. “Enjoy yourself.”But not too much.

With the unspoken warning hanging on the air between them, he weaved through the crowd to find Jane, who stood surrounded by her group of admirers at the side of the ballroom. Her eyes searched for him over her open fan as she whispered something to her sister.

But as the orchestra transitioned into the opening notes of the dance, he glanced over his shoulder to find Miranda still standing right where he’d left her, with Robert nowhere in the room and leaving her completely without a partner.

Sebastian cursed beneath his breath.

“Quinton.” He grabbed his brother’s arm and pulled him away from the small group of landowners who were discussing wheat prices. “I need you to take this waltz with Lady Jane and give her my apologies.”

“Why?” Quinn glanced at Jane, who smiled demurely at Sebastian as she waited patiently in expectation of her waltz.

“Because Robert will be dead by midnight,” he muttered, “and I’ll be in Newgate for murder.”

Quinton grinned. With a nod, clearly not caring about the real reason he had to dance with Lady Jane as long as Robert took the brunt of Sebastian’s ire, he sauntered over to her. Sebastian watched just long enough to see Quinn make a bow to Jane before he spun on his heels and marched back to Miranda.

She wore a fixed smile on her face, the brave brightness of which belied the hurt he knew lingered beneath at being stood up for her waltz. Not just any waltz, too, but her first one in society. As she saw him approach, her smile faltered. Anyone else would have missed the flash of distress in her eyes, but he saw it, and it pained him more than he wanted to admit.

He took her hand and placed it on his arm, refusing to let her pull away. “Your waltz is beginning.”

She blinked in confusion. “But Robert’s supposed to—”

“Robert isn’t coming,” he told her firmly, his jaw clenched tight in anger at his brother.

She hesitated, then nodded wordlessly as understanding fell through her.

As he led her toward the dance floor, her smile faded into a sober expression that suddenly made her appear years older, suddenly far too world-weary.Unhappy.And he didn’t like it. At that moment, he would have done anything to put a beaming smile back on her face.