Page 124 of The Dueling Duchess

“Friends,” Angus echoed, rubbing his head against his mistress’s cheek.

It was something he did often, but the fact that he did it just then—when Blade was visibly unsettled—made Cecile wonder just how much the bird understood.

“I don’t know how to dance,” Blade finally said.

Cecile felt a smile tug at her lips. “It just so happens I have one of the best dancers in Britain living under my roof and working for me.”

“Guy? ”

“Who else?”

“You think he is going to the ball, even after . . . everything?” Blade asked.

“Actually, I haven’t asked him—I’ve been so busy training Helen that I seem to have no time. But I can’t imagine why not.”

“He’s been performing for weeks; don’t you think it will be embarrassing for him to go back to all the people who used to know him as a duke?”

“I don’t know. But even if he doesn’t go, he can still teach us to dance.”

A slow smile crept across Blade’s face, and it grew and grew, until it was a grin. “Us?”

Cecile again tried to shrug off the comment.

“You don’t know how, either?” Blade persisted.

“Where would I have learned to dance?”

“Do you think there is enough time to learn?”

“Two weeks? I should think so,” Cecile said, smirking as she imagined telling Guy about his newest duties.

Chapter 21

Guy was sitting in the kitchen, swallowing cup after cup of coffee and trying to wake up while listening to Cat’s constant stream of chatter. He’d stayed up far too late with Elliot the night before, the two of them going over the contract between Curtis Blanchard and Cecile, looking for irregularities.

Unfortunately, they’d found nothing—at least nothing glaring.

“Helen is taking me to the Tower to learn about the Royal Mint,” Cat said, bouncing up and down in her chair.

Guy smiled, amused by her enthusiasm. “That sounds nice.”

“Could you go with us?”

Before he could answer, the kitchen door opened and Cecile swept into the room.

She paused in front of Guy. “You are looking rough this morning.”

“How kind of you to notice—and then point it out.”

Cecile chuckled and poured herself a cup of coffee.

“Can you go with Helen and me to the Mint, Guy?” Cat asked.

“Er . . .” He looked from Cat to her governess.

Helen shrugged, making it clear it hadn’t been her idea.

“Well, I’m not sure what I have to—”