Page 31 of If the Duke Demands

“And a partridge in a pear tree,” Sebastian muttered edgily, reaching the end of his patience.

If he had to listen to one more lecture straight from Debrett’s, he would go mad. Tonight was Miranda’s official debut, and of course, he wanted everything to go well for her. But his mother’s instructions only served to make her nervous, and having had firsthand experience with the wreckage that a nervous Miranda could unleash…Well,no oneneeded that. Certainly not the St James House floors if she became too nervous to hold her glass of punch.

Tonight was going to be a trial for all of them.

Elizabeth Carlisle sighed patiently. “She needs to be prepared to meet everyone.”

“Not Wembley,” he contradicted. “The man’s as old as—” Good Lord, he almost said Moses, but stopped himself just as he remembered that Robert had calledhimexactly that. Wembley was over twenty years his senior. Was that how his brothers and the rest of thetonsaw him, as stodgy and ancient as all that? “He’s too old for Miranda,” he said instead. “She needs to meet gentlemen her own age.”

“I don’t need to meetanygentlemen. I have enough on my plate just remembering my dance steps.” Miranda laughed lightly at the idea of suitors, and the lilting sound filled the small compartment like music. “Besides, however should I know to whom to give my attentions?” She gazed at him through lowered lashes in a goading look he knew was meant to appear innocent but unknowingly made her look surprisingly alluring. Her eyes sparkled mischievously. “I haven’t yet made out my list.”

His jaw clenched. Anabsolutetrial.

“Just enjoy yourself tonight, my dear. You deserve a grand debut.” Mother hugged her warmly, placing a reassuring kiss on her cheek that made Miranda practically glow. Then she glanced out the window. “Oh goodness—we’ve arrived!”

Before the carriage came to a complete stop and the waiting footman could come forward to assist them, Sebastian had already opened the door and bounded to the street. Chesney’s carriage stopped behind theirs, and the rest of the Carlisle family disembarked. As Thomas Matteson led Josie toward the house, Robert hurried to take his mother’s hand as Sebastian handed her off to his brother to escort inside.

Then he reached back for Miranda.

When her gloved fingers slipped into his, he felt her tremble, and his chest clenched in sympathy for her. Yet she was a vision of composed elegance as she emerged from the carriage in a gown of green silk that matched her eyes, flattered her curves, and highlighted the red tones of her hair, which had been twisted and pinned into a mass of glorious red-gold curls on top her head. A silk-lined ermine stole warmed her shoulders, but she would remove it as soon as she entered the house, giving the crush of guests inside a glimpse of creamy smooth shoulders revealed by the ribbon straps of the sleeveless gown and a teasing hint of her breasts above the form-fitted bodice. With every inch of her, she appeared refined and beautiful, as if she truly belonged there among the quality.

She gave him a smile, one so nervous yet so filled with excitement that it tugged straight through him. He was glad she had this chance for a season, despite everything. She’d been waiting for this moment for far too long. And tonight, she shined gloriously.

Slipping his arm lightly around her waist, he helped her to the ground. “Careful,” he teased, leaning over to whisper into her ear. “Just because you’re wearing slippers doesn’t mean you have to slip.”

“Stop it, Sebastian,” she reprimanded, tapping him gently on the shoulder with her folded fan as he placed her hand on his arm and escorted her toward the door. “I’m nervous enough as it is.”

He gave her a half grin, then leaned in close again. “You look lovely.” He caught the faint scent of rosewater on her skin, and his grin faded with a tight knotting in his gut as memories of the masquerade came flooding back. “Beautiful, in fact.”

“Stop it,” she repeated, this time more softly, and instead of a smack of her fan, a blush pinked prettily at her cheeks.

He raised her hand to his lips and lightly kissed her fingers, finding it endearing that she could blush so easily over a compliment that every other woman at tonight’s ball not only expected but saw as her birthright. “I wouldn’t lie about that.”

Then she nearly did trip on the front steps as she turned to stare at him in utter incredulity.

“Careful,” he warned again, hiding the warmth in his chest at her reaction. If he could so easily fluster her with the smallest of compliments, then what would she do if he told her the absolute truth, that not one of the women here tonight could hold a candle to her vivacity? And that he’d begun to admire her for it. With a nod, he brought her attention back to the entrance of the house. “You’ve arrived at your ball, Cinderella.”

Ablaze with glowing lamps, St James House sat full, the crush of people inside already spilling into the front foyer and drifting out into the lantern-lit side gardens, despite the winter chill in the air. The countess’s ball was always the most anticipated event of the season, one Olivia Sinclair carefully planned for months in advance. One Sebastian hoped his wife could match when he married and the time came to throw grand parties of their own.

He slid a sideways glance at Miranda, whose green eyes never stopped moving in an attempt to experience everything around her.

She would have gentlemen suitors this season, he was certain of it. How could she not, looking as beautiful as she did tonight, as full of life and glowing happiness? When she became a wife, would she be able to pull off an affair as lavish as this? The same woman who played pirates with orphans?

But then, this life was not hers in the first place, he reminded himself, feeling a stab of disappointment for her. This season, she was merely a visitor to this world, and the merchant or gentleman farmer she eventually married would have no need of formal balls and society soirees. Yet Sebastian had no doubt that Miranda would have given it her all. Andthatwas what he admired most about her.

She handed her stole to the footman inside the foyer. Then Sebastian led her up the sweeping stairs to the first floor and along the hall to the rear stairs that curved down into the crowded ballroom below.

“You’re going to be wonderful tonight,” he told her in a low voice. Good Lord, how she trembled! “Just relax, be yourself, and enjoy your night.”

“Areyougoing to relax, be yourself, and enjoy the night?” she countered in a breathy whisper.

No. Those days were over. For him, tonight was about finding a duchess. The most he could do was enjoy the ball through her eyes. “I’m not a debutante,” he deflected.

“Too bad.” She looked straight ahead, but he saw the smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. “You’d look lovely in pink bows and lace.”

He choked back a laugh. Only Miranda could make him enjoy arriving at a ball.

The Master of Ceremonies waited at the top of the marble stairs, to take the invitations as each guest presented them and to announce their arrival.