he ignored them as he stumped over to the pianoforte. He bent over Mrs. Anderson and growled, “We both know what really happened, don’t we?”
Her back stiffened, but she met his glare easily. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you are talking about, Your Grace.”
“I beg to differ.” He kept his voice low to avoid being overheard, though he’d have preferred to simply blast the woman out of her seat. But as Miranda seemed embarrassed enough, he’d not risk making it worse for her. “Should you think to put your hands on her again, I promise you, you will be sorry. A few choice words from me and you’ll never find a position in London again.”
Spots of color rose high on her cheekbones. “Your Grace, I—”
He straightened and glanced over at Miranda and Elyse, who still stared with puzzled looks. “Thank you, Mrs. Anderson,” he said in his normal voice. “Shall we begin?”
Mrs. Anderson offered up a wide-eyed look, but nodded as she settled her fingers on the ivory keys before beginning with a waltz. Hugh swallowed his remaining anger and turned to smile at Miranda as he crossed to her and held out one hand. A faint smile lifted her lips as she allowed him to draw her up from the chair and into his arms.
Despite her height, she was light in his embrace and he caught himself before he sighed at the delicate scent of lilacs wafting from her hair. To his delight, her stature meant they aligned perfectly. She didn’t look at him, but kept her gaze about mid-chest. He smiled as they glided across the floor. Her lips moved, but no sound emerged. Quite adorable really, how she silently counted her steps. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze as they glided across the floor. “Your aunt didn’t seem upset by your disappearance this morning.”
Her head jerked up, her eyes clouded with confusion. “I’m sorry, I’m afraid I did not hear you, Your Grace.”
“Have I not made myself clear enough? You will stop with this ‘Your Grace’ nonsense, or I will refuse to respond.” He squeezed her hand again, considered pulling her closer, but thought better of it. “Ah, there is the smile I thought you’d lost. Tell me, was she terribly upset by your absence?”
“No. Actually, she is not even aware I was out and about.” Miranda smiled up at him in a way that sent a swift chill tearing through him. “So, let’s not say anything, shall we?”
“You have naught to fear. My lips are sealed.”
“I only hope no one else saw me. I’d hate to upset her.” The conversation must have distracted her from her counting, and she stumbled over his left foot. He caught her easily, without breaking their rhythm and her cheeks took on a most definite pink hue as she added, “She fully expects I will dazzle someone this way.”
His amusement at her bluntness, died on his lips. He’d forgotten the true purpose for her staying at Thorpeton Hall. One he found he’d rather not think about. Miranda marrying. No, not someone as wildly sensual as—
What the devil ?
“Why do you scowl?” she murmured, a tiny furrow appearing between her brows as they drew together. “Have I said something inappropriate again?”
“I beg your...no, not at all,” He leaned closer to add, “As I said earlier, I wish more ladies spoke so freely.”
“I’m afraid there are few in agreement with you.”
“Fools, all of them.”
Her smile widened, and he was struck by how warm she was in his arms, how warm she made him feel. It was a bit disconcerting, as it caused a variety of less-than-innocent thoughts to race madly through his mind.
The waltz ended and he reluctantly stepped back. “You’ve improved greatly since our last meeting. Why, I might even venture to put my name on your dance card at the Rowan’s ball.”
Her cheeks flushed again, but by now, the handprint had faded from sight. “I take that as a compliment.”
“As well you should. Not every lady receives an offer from a duke.”
“And why should
Her back stiffened, but she met his glare easily. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you are talking about, Your Grace.”
“I beg to differ.” He kept his voice low to avoid being overheard, though he’d have preferred to simply blast the woman out of her seat. But as Miranda seemed embarrassed enough, he’d not risk making it worse for her. “Should you think to put your hands on her again, I promise you, you will be sorry. A few choice words from me and you’ll never find a position in London again.”
Spots of color rose high on her cheekbones. “Your Grace, I—”
He straightened and glanced over at Miranda and Elyse, who still stared with puzzled looks. “Thank you, Mrs. Anderson,” he said in his normal voice. “Shall we begin?”
Mrs. Anderson offered up a wide-eyed look, but nodded as she settled her fingers on the ivory keys before beginning with a waltz. Hugh swallowed his remaining anger and turned to smile at Miranda as he crossed to her and held out one hand. A faint smile lifted her lips as she allowed him to draw her up from the chair and into his arms.
Despite her height, she was light in his embrace and he caught himself before he sighed at the delicate scent of lilacs wafting from her hair. To his delight, her stature meant they aligned perfectly. She didn’t look at him, but kept her gaze about mid-chest. He smiled as they glided across the floor. Her lips moved, but no sound emerged. Quite adorable really, how she silently counted her steps. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze as they glided across the floor. “Your aunt didn’t seem upset by your disappearance this morning.”
Her head jerked up, her eyes clouded with confusion. “I’m sorry, I’m afraid I did not hear you, Your Grace.”
“Have I not made myself clear enough? You will stop with this ‘Your Grace’ nonsense, or I will refuse to respond.” He squeezed her hand again, considered pulling her closer, but thought better of it. “Ah, there is the smile I thought you’d lost. Tell me, was she terribly upset by your absence?”
“No. Actually, she is not even aware I was out and about.” Miranda smiled up at him in a way that sent a swift chill tearing through him. “So, let’s not say anything, shall we?”
“You have naught to fear. My lips are sealed.”
“I only hope no one else saw me. I’d hate to upset her.” The conversation must have distracted her from her counting, and she stumbled over his left foot. He caught her easily, without breaking their rhythm and her cheeks took on a most definite pink hue as she added, “She fully expects I will dazzle someone this way.”
His amusement at her bluntness, died on his lips. He’d forgotten the true purpose for her staying at Thorpeton Hall. One he found he’d rather not think about. Miranda marrying. No, not someone as wildly sensual as—
What the devil ?
“Why do you scowl?” she murmured, a tiny furrow appearing between her brows as they drew together. “Have I said something inappropriate again?”
“I beg your...no, not at all,” He leaned closer to add, “As I said earlier, I wish more ladies spoke so freely.”
“I’m afraid there are few in agreement with you.”
“Fools, all of them.”
Her smile widened, and he was struck by how warm she was in his arms, how warm she made him feel. It was a bit disconcerting, as it caused a variety of less-than-innocent thoughts to race madly through his mind.
The waltz ended and he reluctantly stepped back. “You’ve improved greatly since our last meeting. Why, I might even venture to put my name on your dance card at the Rowan’s ball.”
Her cheeks flushed again, but by now, the handprint had faded from sight. “I take that as a compliment.”
“As well you should. Not every lady receives an offer from a duke.”
“And why should
Similar Books
