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“Period?”
“No,” I say. “Not yet. I just feel…blah.”
Maggie grimaces. “The Duke messed you up, Ada,” Maggie says softly. “You haven’t been the same since you met him.”
I can’t quite bring myself to meet my sister’s eyes. She’s right. Ever since I met the Duke, my life has been a series of highs and lows. Highs when I see him, and lows when he ignores me afterward. This past week has been particularly difficult. After being marched off his property and not hearing a word, my pride is more than a little wounded.
Am I really that naive? I really thought I was special?
Maggie squeezes my arm. “You’ll feel better soon. Choose a comfy dress for tonight. You want to look through my stuff?”
“You’re four inches shorter and twenty pounds lighter, and you’re a ballerina.” I grin. “Looking through your closet will probably make me feel worse. But thanks for the offer.”
My sister reaches for me, wrapping me in a hug. “Thank you for worrying about me,” she says, her voice muffled in my shoulder. “But believe me, I know what I’m doing.”
She squeezes me tight, crushing my chest a little too hard. “Ow,” I complain, pulling away.
My sister laughs, standing up again and letting out a long sigh. “I’ll go with this black dress. At least it mostly conceals the moon boot.”
With a tight smile, I nod. “Good choice.”
When we arrive at Count Gregory’s mansion, Maggie gives my hand a squeeze. I nod to her, not quite able to wipe away my frown. We’re greeted by staff and led inside, where our names are announced before being led to a huge living room. A dozen or so guests turn to look, and Count Gregory detaches himself from a conversation to greet us.
He says hello to my mother and father, then bows to my sister and kisses her fingers. I brace myself for my own greeting. The Count’s gaze slithers up my body and comes to rest on my eyes. His lips twitch as he dips his chin.
“Lovely to see you again, Lady Belcourt.” He bows, dropping his lips to my fingers.
I give him the slightest curtsy, swallowing hostility. Maggie elbows me, and I manage to widen my smile. “We’re very pleased to be here,” I answer. “Merry Christmas.”
The door behind us opens, and a footman announces another name. “The Duke of Blythe,” he says, bowing and stepping aside.
My heart thunders as my stomach clenches. The Duke…is here?
When Heath steps into the doorway, I feel like I’m going to faint. Wearing a well-tailored suit and an irresistible scowl, the Duke’s eyes find mine. Then, his gaze flits to the Count’s hand, which somehow is resting on my mid-back. He must have seen me waver when the Duke walked in.
I take half a step away from the Count, trying to catch my breath. “Your Grace,” I say, curtsying to the Duke.
He barely acknowledges me with a slight bow of his head, turning instead to the Count.
That stings. Not even a word of hello. My pride is taking a beating. I definitely read the situation wrong. The Duke wants nothing to do with me.
“Thank you for the invitation,” Heath says to Count Gregory.
“I’m surprised to see you accepted,” the Count replies through gritted teeth. The tension between the two men thickens, and my eyes jump from one to the other. Do they have a history?
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world. I do love Christmas,” the Duke replies, flicking his eyes back to me. His gaze sends heat sweeping over my body, and suddenly the room feels too warm. My dress is too tight. I need water, or food, or fresh air.
Maggie grabs my arm and yanks me away from the men, tilting her head to mine. “You have to tell me what’s going on.”
“I would if I knew,” I hiss back, feeling the Duke’s gaze on my skin. I force myself not to look back at him.
I’m not that desperate.
First he ignores me after the Christmas ball until I send him a message. Then he basically kicks me out of his house right after I get there. Now he barely says a word of hello?
How am I supposed to decipher that tangled web of messages? Does he like me or not? Is this some kind of game to him?
I gulp, accepting a glass of water from a passing waiter, ignoring the flutes of champagne on the tray. I have no desire to get well-acquainted with the Count’s porcelain.
