Page 34 of If the Duke Demands

Sebastian.She rolled her tear-blurred eyes as he stepped in front of her and blocked her flight. Of all the people to see her like this!

“Your Grace.” Forcing a smile, she flitted her fan furiously in front of her face to give herself air and blink back the hot tears.

But he frowned at her with concern, clearly seeing right through her façade to the anguish beneath.

“We’re needed to begin the dancing,” he said quietly, his eyes solemn. He placed a hand against her lower back to steer her away from the others before they could see the pain on her face. “Shall we?”

She nodded, unable to find her voice around the tight knot in her throat, and let him lead her away. Thankfully, he was also taking her the long way around the room to give her time to recover before they became the center of attention with the opening dance. He was too much of a gentleman to comment on her distress, but he’d come to her rescue, and she was more grateful than she could express.

He escorted her through the crush toward Lord and Lady St James, who stood waiting by the Master of Ceremonies to officially open the ball. They would be the first couple in the first set, the same set Miranda would dance with Sebastian for her introduction.

“She’s lovely,” Miranda whispered, her face falling.

“Yes, she is.”

She couldn’t bring herself to look at him as her humiliation over the futility of the past few weeks rose inside her. Hot tears threatened at her lashes. “I didn’t mean Lady St James.”

“I know,” he said softly, his voice kind. “Miranda, perhaps it’s time you gave up on Robert.”

She shook her head. He was right; her head knew that, but her heart couldn’t yet face the ramifications of surrendering the dream she’d held since she was fourteen. “Not yet.”

He nodded in sympathetic understanding. “Then allow me to request a second dance with you. What do you have left?”

Her shoulders sagged. As her escort and the man introducing her to society, Sebastian was already obligated to take the first dance with her. Now he was also taking pity on her. “You don’t have to.”

“I want to.”

Well,thatwas a lie. Still, it was thoughtful of him to offer, and the kindness warmed her chest and lightened the lead knot lying within. “Both of my waltzes are still free.”

“Both?” His eyes narrowed, and with a fresh stab of humiliation, she knew what he’d just realized. That Quinn had taken a quadrille, so had the Marquess of Chesney and the Duke of Strathmore, as well as several other men she’d never met before tonight who all wanted to dance with her. Except for Robert, who hadn’t yet requested a dance at all. “I thought you wanted to waltz.”

“I do.” She lowered her eyes, pretending to fuss with her gloves. “I was saving them for Robert, so he could have his choice.” Long after she’d tugged the gloves into place past her elbows, she kept her gaze lowered, unable to bear the look of pity she suspected she’d see on his face if she glanced up. “Although your mother assured me that he would give me a waltz since he’s the second oldest brother and it’s my debut.”

“He should have. And he will,” he said firmly, although Miranda doubted that even the duke could make his brother pay her any attention now that Miss Morgan had arrived and stolen it all away for herself.

She shook her head in defeat. “It doesn’t matter. There are other gentlemen here who will waltz with me, I’m certain.”

“So am I,” he muttered beneath his breath. Then he looked down at her with concern. “Be careful tonight with the gentlemen, Miranda.”

She blew out a sigh, bracing herself for the onslaught of warnings he’d been giving her since she arrived in London, those seemingly endless cautions about how to behave among society and navigate all their unwritten rules. Only Sebastian Carlisle could ruin her fun by being…well,himself.

“Enjoy yourself, but don’t have too much fun. Don’t draw unwanted attention, and try not to drink too much champagne.” He rattled off the warnings in a smooth litany that left her wondering how long he’d been practicing them. Most likely since the moment he and his mother decided to give her a season. “Stay in the ballroom unless Mother or Josie is with you, and stay away from the terrace, the gardens—”

“Line the walls with the companions and spinsters,” she mocked with a wave of her gloved hand in the same warning tone, “settle on the shelf without complaint, become an old maid with only a herd of cats for company…Better yet, join a convent.”

“Precisely.” He arched a brow. “I’m glad we’ve come to an understanding.”

Her mouth dropped open, aghast. “We’ve done no such thing!”

He flashed her a smile, with the relief that he’d successfully distracted her from Robert visible on his face. “And I’d be honored to take your second waltz.”

Closing her mouth, she stared at him, wide-eyed and speechless. Yet immensely grateful. And the stinging in her eyes turned into tears of gratitude. She had to admit that Sebastian could be quite dashing. When he wasn’t being a duke.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

Saying nothing, his gaze holding hers, he raised her hand to his lips to kiss it. A soft tingle spread up her arm.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the Earl and Countess of St James!” the Master of Ceremonies called out from the top of the stairs with a flourish from the orchestra. An excited murmur went up from the crowd, and everyone moved back from the dance floor to let pass the six couples who would dance the first figures and open the ball.