Page 3 of The Duke’s Christmas Rejection

But oh, how I wish to indulge in what my brain conjures up—his hand grazing mine as we promenade, perhaps a slight brush of lips against the top of my hand, or soft whispers shared in secret as others look on. Dear God, the very idea of him dancing with me, holding me close enough that the heat of his body overwhelms mine.

The last time we danced, I was but a child in his eyes. Now that I’m a woman, surely he will take it far more seriously. One can hope at least.

Deep in my thoughts, I barrel forward, paying no heed to what’s in front of me. I turn to glance back at Penelope, laughing at her scrambling to catch up. And that’s when my body collides with another, smacking so hard I stumble out of control.

Strong hands grasp my arms for a brief moment before they draw me in closer, stabilizing me. The intoxicating scent of leather, laced with a hint of tobacco and gunpowder, assault my nose, making my heart pound in my chest. I know that smell. I’ve daydreamed about that smell.

Looking up, I stare into Norhaven’s bright blue eyes, stunned at the crystal clarity of their depths. That tingling begins again, but this time, it morphs into a throbbing that pulses in time with my heartbeat. He blinks at me, his nose quivering as he scents the air.

In almost imperceptible increments, his eyes darken as his pupils grow large. However, in an instant, they’re back to normal, causing me to wonder if I imagined it. Wrapping his hands around my arms, he pushes me back and stares at my gown before looking down at his jacket and breeches.

White coats us both in a comical fashion, sending Penelope, Sophia, and Georgiana into fits of laughter. I chuckle as well until I look back at Norhaven, watching as his eyes darken once more. Any trace of humor dries up in the heat of his gaze.

“Sorry, Your Grace,” I murmur, dipping down into a curtsy.

The three girls gather behind me, murmuring their own acknowledgments as they curtsy as well. When Norhaven leans forward, his eyes trail down the front of my afternoon dress, and for a moment, I’m unable to breathe. My breasts push against the front of my stays as my vision swims, but I don’t allow myself to give in and faint. That would be far too embarrassing.

“I see you four are starting the festivities early. Whatever shall I tell my manservant when he sees the mess you’ve made?”

“My most humblest apologies, Your Grace. It was never my intention to sully you.”

He leans forward, his lips so close to mine…too close. “I could always just acquire the funds from you to procure another one.”

My stomach plummets, sending nausea rolling through me. There is no way I can keep that sort of sum from Mama. Something fit for a duke is sure to be pricey indeed. No doubt my fear permeates the air, for all too soon, his nose twitches and he frowns.

“Steady, Miss Cynthia. You act as if I’ve asked for your execution. No doubt my manservant is skilled enough to get out even the toughest stains. Though I suggest you be far more careful in the future.”

“Please, Charles,” Penelope snickers, pushing in between us. “Next you’ll threaten her with a lecture and a switching.”

Norhaven slides his heated gaze to me, pinning me with the intensity of his stare. “Now that is an idea. What say you, Miss Cynthia? Would a swift punishment alleviate the discomfort I see in your eyes?”

The world spins for a moment as I ponder his words. Would he truly do something like that to me? I shouldn’t hope for that at all. Even being switched by my mother was a heinous, painful affair.

“Your Grace,” I begin, my lips trembling. “I would prefer some other way to atone for my actions than to be switched.”

He leans in, ignoring his sisters as they watch us. “It wouldn’t have to be a switch.” His voice is low and soft, but I feel every syllable as if it’s striking against my skin. “I also have a crop, tawse, cane, or whip at my disposal. Do any of these sound more to your liking?”

This time, Sophia squeezes in between us, her movements frantic. “Not the tawse. Please don’t do that to her.”

I look over at her, my eyes widening. I’ve never heard of a tawse, but it sounds absolutely dreadful. Sophia isn’t one to give into hysterics, and so I wonder just how bad it must be. Sliding my hands behind me, I wring my fingers together where the duke cannot see.

“And since when has one ever been used on you? Hmm?” Penelope butts in, breaking a bit of the tension. “Out of the three of us, I have received the bulk of the discipline, and not once has Lewis used that one on me. Threatened, to be sure, but come now.”

“It doesn’t have to be used on me to know how bad it is,” Sophia hisses, her eyes narrowing like a cat. “I have heard stories from one who has.”

“Confound it all,” Penelope curses under her breath, earning a stern frown from Norhaven. “If you’ve been gossiping with Charlotte, I would not believe one word that drips from those mawkish lips of hers.”

Sophia looms forward, her eyes sparking with anger. I’m just relieved that the attention seems to be off of me for the moment. I’m more than happy to allow them to battle it out if it means my backside is saved.

Norhaven leans back, a smile tugging at his lips. “I can assure you, my most dramatic siblings,” he interrupts, “that it is all in jest. I do not have the proper permission to physically discipline anything on Miss Cynthia’s person. Whether warranted or not.”

An exhale flutters through my lips at his words, but it doesn’t stop the pounding of my heart. What will the duke think once he sees the havoc we’ve created in our wake? Best to be far away from him when that happens.

Giving him another curtsy, I nod and ease myself around his body. “In that case, Your Grace, if you are not planning on thrashing me, I shall prepare for tonight's festivities. Until this evening.”

At first, he refuses to move, simply staring at me as our bodies come perilously close. Once more, he scents the air, watching my reaction to such a blatant act. Thankfully, the trio pushes at him, forcing him to the side.

“She will be there anon, good brother,” Penelope teases. “You are more than welcome to stare at her then. Besides, shouldn’t your valet have a look at your soiled waistcoat?”