How to Dance With a Duke by Manda Collins Page B

adamant that you should be brought along to help him read the hieroglyphs on the tombs, and had even convinced a couple of the other men, Will included, to approach your father about it, but he was determined that you not be brought along because he didn’t think it appropriate for his daughter to undertake such a journey.”
    She shook her head in disbelief. “I had no idea. None. I know that Mr. Gubar respects my work, of course. We have been quite friendly for years, despite his relationship with my father. But if I’d known they felt that way…”
    “Miss Hurston,” Lucas said. “Cecily, please. If you were ever a friend to my brother, for his own sake if not for mine, help me find out what happened to him. My mother is despondent. And I … well…” He stopped, unable to continue.
    “He was your brother,” she finished for him quietly, squeezing his hand this time.
    “I will help you, Your Grace,” she said firmly, “if you promise to help me with my quest to find a member of the Egyptian Club who would suit me as a husband.”
    Not wishing to look a gift horse in the mouth, Lucas merely nodded. He had no intention of seeing her sacrifice herself on the altar of marriage to someone she did not hold in affection, but she did not need to know that now. The important thing was that she had agreed to help him.
    “Thank you, my dear,” he told her, turning to walk the horses back onto Rotten Row. “You won’t be sorry.”

 
    Five
    At Lady Willowbrook’s musicale the next evening, Cecily, to her astonishment, found herself surrounded by fashionable young men. Her success at the Bewle ball had apparently lifted some sort of invisibility cloak, which had previously made it impossible for gentlemen of the ton to see her among the other wallflowers. In all of her time “out” in London society, she had never dreamed she would be the center of attention as she was now. It was both exciting and overwhelming. And despite her desire to vet these young gentlemen, many of whom were members of the Egyptian Club, as possible husbands, their sheer numbers made it difficult to concentrate. How on earth did someone like Amelia manage this level of attention all the time? If this kept up she would have no need of either Winterson’s assistance or Amelia’s dance card.
    The thought of Winterson and the dance card gave her a pang of guilt. She had neglected to tell him about the dance card, fearing he would refuse to help her if he knew she intended to use false pretenses to go about her husband-hunting scheme. But knowing she had both Winterson and Amelia’s dance card to help her, she felt much more secure about her ability to find a member of the Egyptian Club to marry. Besides, tonight there seemed to be no need for either of her secret weapons.
    As if to remind her, Lord Ballston interrupted her thoughts. “Miss Hurston, are you quite comfortable there? Perhaps you’d like to sit here, on the end of the row. I’m sure the view is much better from here.”
    “Do not be absurd, Ballston,” Lord Dareingham interrupted from his seat next to Cecily. “She can see quite well enough from here. Besides, on that side she might catch a draft.”
    “Miss Hurston, surely you would rather sit up here with me,” Lord Fortenbury said, cutting off more talk of drafts from Dareingham. “The view is much better from here, and I have it on the best authority that the pianoforte is best listened to from a more central location.”
    “Gentlemen, please,” a new voice interceded. “I’m afraid you are all doomed to disappointment, for Miss Hurston has already promised herself to me for the evening.”
    Cecily looked up to find Lucas looming over the group, his height and military bearing making the other men seem like callow youths. Even his black frock coat and snug fawn breeches were dour when compared to the dandyish high shirt points and intricately tied cravats of her coterie of admirers. They were more of an age with