Page 22 of Once Upon a Devilish Duke

“My honest opinion?”

“Of course.”

“It was…nice.” He frowned when they parted. “The shadows were very interesting,” she continued. “But the colors are dull here in London. The coal smoke covers everything in fine dust, even the rays of the sun.”

“That is sadly true, but are not many fine works of art sketched in shades of gray?”

“Ah, you want an artist’s view on it?”

“If you would indulge me.”

“I would have to see it again to truly make a judgment.”

“Then you must.”

“You are very good at diverting my attention from the Cecil in the room. Do you have any advice as to what I should or should not do?”

“Stay near me unless you are dancing.” He left her, but his eyes never left hers.

“Can you give me a signal or a gesture so I know if I should accept a dance? Marianne said I should not rely on her alone, as she may be dancing herself.”

“I will nod or shake my head.”

“Will that not be too obvious?”

“Does it matter?”

“I do not want to hurt any feelings.”

He laughed. “I do not care about their feelings.”

“But I do.”

He raised those impressive eyebrows at her as if to say, no you don’t. “Do you know, I do not think I have ever had such a long conversation while dancing.” His lips turned up at the corners. “Much more interesting than the weather.”

“I am happy to entertain,” she said as the music finished and she curtsied.

Edward offered his arm and led her off the floor, but she could not help but look for her brother. “Just keep your attention on me until we are back to our places by the door.”

“Oh, you two looked lovely on the dance floor,” the dowager said when they took their place by the doors again. “You would never know you had been away for so long. You dance with grace, Rose.”

“Thank you. I practiced a lot with… at Ashtonvale,” Rose corrected.

“Brookhaven is here,” the duke said to his mother. “I needed to take Rose away so that she would not get upset.”

“Good lord,” the dowager exclaimed. “I would not even know what he looked like now. Can you point him out?”

“Certainly not. I will tell you that he is hovering about the door to the card room. He may be looking for Rose or waiting for a place at a card table. Either way, he is wearing a scowl worthy of Anthony.”

Marianne grasped Rose’s hand. “Do not look. If you make eye contact with him, he will know you know he is here.”

The duke shook his head. “Marianne, she should make eye contact with him now that the shock has worn off and she can show him she is not afraid. That she has us at her back.”

“Are you sure you are up to that, Rose?”

“I’ve stared down my brother before. I can do it now.” She let her gaze go across the room and to that door the duke had described, and there he was. Her brother. His blond curly locks were in a rakish style, but his eyes burned with hatred. Cecil was supposed to be protecting her now that her father was gone. Instead, she had to seek another man to do his job. A duke.

Cecil crooked his finger at her, beckoning her over in an imperious manner, but she shook her head. Cecil’s face changed to anger, and he took two strides forward but then stopped abruptly. Rose could feel the duke’s heat behind her. Like a solid, dependable wall at her back. Her brother simply turned around and went into the card room.