Page 46 of The Mistletoe Dare

“Miss Knight,” he said, nodding politely. She followed his gaze to Georgina and smiled.

“She looks stunning this evening, doesn’t she?”

“She does,” he agreed.

The young woman beamed at him. “You looked very well dancing together. It’s tricky for her to find a suitable dance partner. Well, for me too,” she added with a laugh. “If I don’t want to end the evening with a crick in my neck.”

“I think I might cause you a permanent injury in that case,” he replied, rather surprised to be enjoying a conversation at a ball.

Her laugh was merry, the kind that invited others to join in, and drew the gazes of several people around them. “Oh, not permanent, I think. I’ll risk it if you will,” she added with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

Rochford stared at her in surprise. Had she just invited him to ask her to dance?

She laughed again at his obvious astonishment. “I’m sorry, your grace, but the cat is out of the bag. Jules has just told me I’m not to believe you are as fierce as everyone says because you’re not half so scary as you make out.”

“Yes, he is,” retorted a familiar voice. His favourite voice.

Rochford turned to see Monsieur Demarteau guiding Georgina back towards them. She was giving Evie a mock serious glare. “Don’t you believe a word of it. Jules said the same to me, but he’s wrong. His grace is quite dreadful and very scary. I should run if I were you.”

“Well, duke? Who has the right of it?” Miss Knight demanded. “Should I run or demand my dance?”

Rochford looked between them, uncertain of what to do or say. He was unused to being teased. Mocked, yes, but not this friendly banter and… and he did not know how to reply. Perhaps sensing his predicament, Georgie answered for him.

“I think perhaps we are both right, but you should judge for yourself, Evie. Will you dance with her, Rochford?”

“It would be my honour,” he replied gravely, and gave Miss Knight a formal bow before offering her his arm. He hesitated before leading her off. “And you, Lady Georgina, will you dance with me again?”

“Again?” she replied. Colour touched her cheeks, a glorious flush of pink that made his breath catch. Was that pleasure or embarrassment? Did she want to dance again, or was she scrabbling about for a reason to refuse him? He waited, embarrassment growing as she dithered.

“Yes. Yes, I will dance with you again.” She stared down at the delicate sticks of her fan to find one that had not been written upon. “The last waltz is yours, then.”

Rochford let out a breath. “It is,” he agreed, and escorted Miss Knight out to dance.

Georgie watched Rochford and Evie walk out onto the floor and smiled. Evie was in high spirits this evening, though she seemed oblivious to the effect she had on people. Wherever she went, she left people laughing and in a far better mood than when she’d arrived. Even Rochford seemed to unravel under the warmth of that smile. Georgie hugged her arms about herself, pleased to see him enjoying himself. She wondered just how rare that was for him and hoped perhaps this evening would show him the world was not such an unfriendly place if he gave it a chance.

“My dance, I believe, Lady Georgina.”

Georgie turned to find herself face to face with the Comte de Villen. “Oh,” she said, immediately sent into a dither. “Oh, yes, it is. Of course.”

Georgie bit back a smile as she noticed the covetous looks on the faces of women around her, enjoying the moment. Unsurprisingly, the comte danced like a dream and Georgie relaxed, wondering at her good fortune in having danced with two such remarkable men, neither of whom made her feel like a family obligation.

“You have set tongues wagging, my lady,” he remarked, guiding her into an effortless turn.

“Have I?” she asked, daring to meet those extraordinary blue eyes.

“The Duke of Rochford never attends balls, is never seen in society, and he certainly never dances, yet this is the second event at which he has appeared, and he has danced with you at both.”

“He’s dancing with Evie now,” she pointed out, suddenly grateful for that fact.

The comte’s expression darkened. “So he is. He’s looking for a wife.”

“Who says so?” she demanded, startled.

He looked back at her. “I say so. It’s obvious.”

Georgie watched Evie and the duke, watched Evie say something and then laugh, throwing her head back. The duke’s lips twitched, and he smiled too. Something hot and unpleasant that felt horribly like jealousy squirmed in Georgie’s chest. Stop it, she scolded herself. Everyone loved Evie. He was not looking for a wife. Well, he might be, said a little voice in her head. Just because the idea of Georgie being his duchess made him furious, it didn’t mean he wasn’t looking for someone to do the job. Someone gentle and easy-going, who always smiled and never said hateful things to people.

Oh. Oh, no.