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The Art 0f Pleasuring A Duke (Steamy Historical Regency Romance)

Page 12

by Scarlett Osborne


  “Could you not have given me a few more minutes, Mother?” he murmured to her when he caught up to her.

  “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, Nathaniel,” she replied, her voice was quiet, but her tone was stiff.

  “I was engaged in conversation with Miss Conolly, as you could very well see,” he said, struggling to keep his voice quiet so as not to be overheard. “Could you not have asked me to meet you in a few minutes, rather than dragging me away like a misbehaving schoolboy?”

  “Nathaniel, don’t be absurd,” his mother said, firmly. “No one has dragged anyone anywhere. I simply asked you to join me. You had been talking to the ballerina for far too long, and people were bound to start noticing.”

  “Her name is Miss Conolly,” Nathaniel corrected her, “and I highly doubt that anyone other than you noticed that I was speaking to her. They are all busy speaking to the other ballerinas. The whole purpose of this soiree is to talk to the ballerinas.”

  “The purpose of this soiree is the same as the purpose of all such parties—to mingle with the other members of the ton,” his mother said, in a tone that reminded him, rather unpleasantly, of some of his teachers at school explaining concepts to the slower pupils. “Meeting and speaking with the ballerinas is merely an excuse to hold the event.”

  “Well, if that is the excuse for holding this event, then it would be quite rude to ignore them, don’t you think?” Nathaniel said, sounding more bitter than he had intended.

  “I did not say that you ought to ignore them,” she replied in tones of exasperation, “but since you mention it, you were, in fact, ignoring everyone other than Miss Conolly.”

  “So you would like for me not to speak to any of the ballerinas, but also to speak to all of them?” Nathaniel said, pointing out the absurdity of this logic.

  “I wish for you to mingle with everyone here, like a well-bred gentleman,” she snapped back at him, still speaking in an undertone so that no one else would hear their argument. “And if you cannot speak to everyone present, then focus your attention on the eligible young ladies in attendance.”

  “Mother, can we please talk about something other than my marriage prospects for once?” Nathaniel said with a sigh.

  “Who said anything about your marriage prospects?” she asked, “I am merely offering you some good, general advice. In any social situation, there are people with whom a connection might prove beneficial, and people with whom it will not. Seek out the people from whom you might benefit, be they eligible young ladies, political allies, or business associates.”

  “And yet, you only mentioned eligible young ladies,” Nathaniel observed.

  “Well, you hardly need business associates, and discussing politics at the ballet would be rather uncouth.”

  Nathaniel could not help but marvel at his mother, who always had an answer for everything. Her ability to turn any situation to her advantage was quite impressive, he must at least give her credit for that.

  “Well, which advantageous person are you hoping to introduce me to now, Mother?” he asked, feeling resigned. He turned his head and saw Miss Conolly over his shoulder, she appeared to be deep in conversation with Miss Rowley. He was not sure whether he ought to be pleased or disappointed that she did not seem to be looking for him.

  He had only a second to consider this before his mother was introducing him to another young lady, the sister of some Duke. Nathaniel did his best to make charming conversation, but he was too distracted by thoughts of Miss Conolly even to remember her name.

  Nathaniel had never much cared for dancing, but he was relieved when Mr. Bamber announced that the guests should follow him to the stage, where a dance floor had been set up with seating around the edges. The orchestra began to play a waltz and couples moved onto the floor.

  He was obliged to dance with the Duke’s sister, though he still could not recall her name, but dancing with her was easier than making conversation in his distracted state.

  At the end of the dance, everyone changed partners, and he found himself face-to-face with Lady Elaine.

  “Good evening, again, Your Grace,” she said, quietly.

  “Good evening, My Lady, may I have this dance?” he asked, not wishing to be impolite.

  “Yes, Your Grace,” she said quickly, though she did not sound particularly excited at the prospect.

  In spite of her seeming hesitation to dance with him, and in spite of his previous declaration that she was merely a competent dancer, Lady Elaine proved to be a good partner. She moved gracefully across the dance floor, allowing Nathaniel to lead her, but somehow managing to guide him as well when he was uncertain of a step.

  “You dance well, My Lady,” he said, hoping that polite conversation would make her feel less awkward.

  “Oh,” she said, sounding surprised. “I am sorry if I am guiding you too much, Your Grace.”

  “Not at all, I meant what I said,” Nathaniel was beginning to wish that he had said nothing at all. He did not wish to spend the remainder of this dance trying to convince Lady Elaine that she had done nothing wrong.

  “Well, thank you, I suppose,” she said, sounding uncertain.

  “Are you quite all right?” Nathaniel asked her, knowing that he would have done better to say nothing at all. He simply could not allow her to seem so miserable without at least asking what was wrong.

  “Yes, Your Grace, it is just…” she hesitated for a moment and then seemed to steel herself before continuing. “It is just that my father would like for me to charm you this evening, and while I am sure that you are a very kind gentleman…”

  “You do not wish to charm me?” Nathaniel offered, helpfully.

  Lady Elaine looked up at him, horrified at what she had almost said, “Please forgive me, Your Grace, I meant no disrespect.”

  “There is nothing to forgive,” Nathaniel said kindly. As he spoke, he saw Miss Conolly move past, dancing with a gentleman he did not recognize, and his heart skipped a beat. “I understand exactly how you feel. My mother would be most delighted if I were to charm you as well.”

  “But you do not wish to charm me,” Lady Elaine said. It was not a question.

  “I am sorry, My Lady, but no.”

  “Well then, we are agreed upon that,” she said, sounding more cheerful now than she had done up to this point. “Do you know, I feel as though a sort of weight has been lifted?”

  “I am quite pleased to hear it,” Nathaniel said, smiling at her. If Miss Conolly was the sun, then Lady Elaine was merely a candle, but with the weight now lifted, as she had put it, she did seem to shine more brightly.

  The song ended and everyone changed dance partners once again. This continued throughout the evening and Nathaniel danced with many eligible young ladies, as well as Mr. Bamber’s wife, Miss Rowley, and two other ballerinas whose names he did not know. Finally, after what felt like hours, he found himself face-to-face with Miss Conolly once more.

  At the sight of her he caught his breath once more. He wondered if he would ever grow used to her beauty, and thought that it was unlikely. “Good evening, again,” he said, his voice thick with desire. “May I have this dance?”

  “Yes, Your Grace.”

  Is it my imagination, or does her voice sound as breathless as I feel?

  “I apologize for leaving our conversation so abruptly earlier,” Nathaniel said, as he took her in his arms. Placing one hand at her waist, he felt a shiver run up his spine—he could hardly believe that he was really touching her. He had dreamed of this moment more times than he could count, but the reality of it was so much greater than he had imagined.

  Their palms touched as he took her hand in his, and he felt the warmth of her skin through her thin glove. It spread through his own hand and up his arm, sending a jolt of energy through his whole body.

  Nathaniel was suddenly aware of the way that his feet splayed slightly outward, and hoped desperately that Miss Conolly would not notice. This had always seemed a small imperfect
ion until now, but he realized, quite suddenly, that to a dancer it might seem grotesque. Willing himself to concentrate on the steps of the dance, he prayed silently that she would not notice his feet.

  Miss Conolly was looking into his face, seeming to study every inch of him, and Nathaniel was relieved that she was not looking down. He was a competent dancer, but not a particularly graceful one.

  “I am afraid that my dancing skills are quite poor when compared to yours, Miss Conolly,” he said, as they began to waltz.

  “Nonsense,” she replied, that coy smile playing across her lips once again. “You dance quite well, Your Grace. I have been watching you all evening.” A slight flush spread across her cheeks at these words and she looked down momentarily.

  “You have?” Nathaniel asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

  “Yes, Your Grace,” Miss Conolly replied, her voice even quieter than his own. He had to lean in closer to make sure that he heard her, and as he did, he took in her intoxicating scent. There was a hint of something floral about it, but she did not seem to be wearing much perfume, for the scent was light and airy.

  “Miss Conolly,” Nathaniel said, his mouth close to her ear now, so that he could continue to whisper, and still felt confident that she would hear him.

  “Yes?” she replied, her voice a husky murmur now, her breathing audible.

  “I have been so eager to meet you, ever since the first time that I saw you on the stage,” Nathaniel said, hardly believing that he was admitting this out loud. “And then I was worried that when I met you in person you would not be as lovely as I had first thought, for at first thought, I believed you to be the most beautiful woman in the world.”

  Miss Conolly said nothing in response but looked into his eyes, as though she were searching for the truth behind his words. As she looked at him, she bit her lower lip, squeezing it gently between her teeth, so that it looked red and swollen when she released it. Nathaniel nearly groaned with longing at the sight. He yearned to kiss her lips with his own, perhaps to nip at them with his own teeth, or to feel hers tugging at his lip.

  When he spoke again, his voice was breathless with desire, but he knew that no effort on his part would be able to hide that fact. “Now that I have met you in person, I realize that I was wrong.”

  Miss Conolly narrowed her eyes at this, seeming surprised by his words, and Nathaniel realized suddenly that he had said the wrong thing, he had failed to explain himself, and he was desperate to correct his mistake.

  “I am sorry Miss Conolly, I am not making sense,” he said, failing to keep a note of anxiety out of his voice. “What I meant was that I was wrong to think that you would be less lovely in person than you were on the stage. I would not have believed it possible until now, but you are even more beautiful tonight than you were the first time I saw you.”

  “Your Grace is too kind,” Miss Conolly replied, seeming shocked but pleased by his words.

  “And in addition to your breathtaking beauty, you are kind, and charming, and I feel as though I could talk to you all day and all night and never grow tired of your company. It is more than anyone could wish for,” he said, hoping that he did not sound desperate.

  “You flatter me, Your Grace,” Miss Conolly replied, her voice sounding more sure now. “And I must confess that I have enjoyed your company as well, and I believe that I would not grow tired of it, either.”

  Nathaniel felt a wave of relief washing over him as she spoke these words. Of course, he knew that it was possible that she was only being polite, for it would do her no good to offend a wealthy patron of the ballet. However, he did not think that she would go quite so far as to say all of this for the sake of politeness.

  “Will you allow me to call upon you tomorrow, Miss Conolly?” he asked, praying silently that she would agree to this.

  There was a pause of several seconds before Miss Conolly spoke again. She seemed to be lost in thought for a moment, and she bit her lip once more, making Nathaniel ache with desire for her.

  “I would very much like to see you again, Your Grace,” she said quietly.

  Nathaniel’s heart leapt with joy, and a wide smile spread across his face, but it soon faltered.

  “I must be very clear about something though,” Miss Conolly said, her voice sounding quite grave now.

  “And what is that?” Nathaniel asked, wondering what could be the matter.

  “I will not consent to be your mistress, Your Grace,” she said, her cheeks turning crimson now, instead of pink. She looked down at the floor as they continued to dance. It seemed as though she was not comfortable with meeting his gaze having said this.

  “I see,” Nathaniel said. He had said that he did not wish to make her his mistress, and he truly did not, but he could not help but feel a pang of disappointment at this.

  Is she opposed to forming any sort of romantic attachment to me, or only one outside the bounds of marriage?

  “I know that many gentlemen in your position have mistresses in the company,” she said, her voice still firm, still refusing to meet his eye with her own, “and I make no judgements about that, but it is not an arrangement that I am willing to consider.”

  “Good,” Nathaniel said, matching the firm tone Miss Conolly had been using up to this point.

  “Good?” she repeated, sounding bemused.

  “Until just a few days ago, I was unaware that it was so common for ballerinas to be the mistresses of aristocrats,” he explained. “I suppose in some ways I always knew that gentlemen of my class often keep mistresses, but I admit that I had not given the matter much thought.”

  “I see…” Miss Conolly said, though her tone suggested that she did not understand what he was trying to say.

  “Now that I am aware of the situation, I have come to understand the risks involved, and I understand that for the woman in question, those risks are quite high,” he said.

  “That is true,” Miss Conolly replied, her voice a strange mix of anxiety and awe, “but most gentlemen do not seem to mind the risk, as long it mostly affects someone else.”

  Nathaniel leaned in closer and whispered in her ear, “I am not most gentlemen, and I would not put you at risk.”

  Chapter 16

  Anna shuddered as she felt the Duke’s breath against her ear. She had been dancing with gentlemen of all varieties for hours now, but this was the first dance she had actually enjoyed. The Duke of Yanborough was not only handsome, but he was charming as well. More than this, he seemed genuinely interested in her wellbeing, which was something she had never seen in a man, let alone a gentleman.

  “You would not put me at risk,” she whispered back to him, “and I would not put you at risk, either, Your Grace.”

  The only way to avoid putting either of them at risk would be to never see each other again, but as the dance went on, Anna found this idea more and more unbearable. She would not consent to be his mistress, no matter what might happen, but for the first time in her life, she felt tempted to give in.

  If he had been a different sort of person, she would have said no to his request, not trusting herself to say no to his advances. But she felt certain that the Duke of Yanborough was as good as his word. If he said that he would not ask her to be his mistress, she believed that he never would.

  “Yes,” she said, in the faintest of whispers.

  “What?” The Duke asked, his intense eyes surveying her face once more.

  “Yes,” she said once again, her voice still quiet, but loud enough that she was sure he would be able to hear her. “Yes, you may call upon me tomorrow.”

  “Thank you, Miss Conolly,” he replied. The smile that lit up his face seemed to radiate outward, spreading warmth throughout the room. Anna felt it washing over her, and a flush crept up over her whole body now. She returned his smile with delight, and found that she could not wait for tomorrow to come, so that they might talk without the distractions of music or other partygoers.

  This feeling was made
even more intense when the music stopped and they were forced to part ways, changing dance partners once again. The thought of being held in another man’s arms after dancing with the Duke of Yanborough was distasteful to Anna, and she excused herself from the next dance, walking quickly off of the dance floor.

  Looking around the room, she saw Camilla deep in conversation with Mr. Harper, and noted that the Viscount of Essex was watching them intently from across the room. Anna wondered absentmindedly whether he might be jealous of their conversation, but soon realized that she did not much care if he was.

  Mr. Bamber was talking to an older couple, aristocrats Anna guessed, who she did not recognize. No doubt they were wealthy patrons of the company, and Mr. Bamber would not wish for the conversation to be disturbed.

 

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