After The Storm (17 page)

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Authors: Kimberly Nee

BOOK: After The Storm
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“Lord Bridgeton!” She laughed. He couldn’t mean those words. No. He was merely trying to cheer her.

“Why do you find that amusing? I’d not be so terrible a husband.”

She snorted. “Wouldn’t you? Your sister has already warned me about you.”

“Warned, you say? Yes, I’m not at all surprised Elyse has condemned me as a rake and a scoundrel and anything else she thought to call me. But then again, she said the same of Hugh not too long ago and look at the old man now, finally settling down. If
he
can do it,
I
certainly can.”

She sobered. “Yes, well, even if I were to take the chance—which I’m
not
, by the by, we both know I’d not be considered at all suitable for you.”

“Be that as it may, one never can tell with my mother. No one suspected she’d approve Hugh’s match with Sally, but there you have it.”

This
was an unexpected tidbit. “Your mother did not approve the match?”

If he found her interest odd, he gave no inkling, instead he shrugged in a lazy sort of way. “It was more my father’s doing, as he and Sally’s father were old chums. As for Mother, she was…ah…uncertain…but she’d never say so to Hugh, as our father was so happy about his choice. And since the old boy’s not getting any younger…”

Her belly tightened as they drew near the ballroom once more. She had no desire to step back in there, but knew Gerard was right. Determined not to let Lady Sally, or the beastly Marquis of Saintsbury, ruin her evening, she tucked her arm through Gerard’s, took a deep breath, and allowed him to sweep her back into the throng.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Thirteen

 

As Hugh glided Miranda past a clump of ladies, it was impossible to miss the murderous look on Sally Hayworth’s beautiful face. It sent a chill through her, one she fought to ignore, as the heat from Hugh’s hand on her hip sank into her. It wasn’t at all easy, especially as she also had to concentrate on not smashing either of his feet.

For several terrifying minutes, Miranda was afraid her heart would burst when Hugh approached her and rumbled, “I believe this dance is mine.”

Without waiting for her response, he swept her away from the small group of ladies Elyse dragged her to meet, and out onto the dance floor. Her head spun, the dizziness both delicious and unnerving, and she only hoped her palms weren’t damp. It was so much different than dancing with him in an empty ballroom, so much more…
wicked
.

“I do believe those lessons have worked, my lady,” Hugh rumbled in a low voice as he spun her easily. “You’ve not stepped on either foot once.”

The only thing putting a damper on her happiness was the evil glare Sally leveled at her. Instead of dwelling on it, she chose to savor the few short minutes she had in Hugh’s arms. Tearing her mind from Sally’s deepening scowl, Miranda glanced up to find him smiling at her. It was impossible not to return it, not that she tried. Yes, her lessons were finally coming to fruition. “Elyse will be most pleased.”

His brow furrowed. “Do you know what happened between her and Ashton? I’ve not seen them together at all this eve.”

They spun again, Miranda keeping silent count in her head. It made speaking a bit difficult, as she didn’t want to lose count and stumble, but she managed to say, “I don’t know. I asked her what troubled her, and she told me only that she and Derek had a minor spat. I tried asking her again, and she changed the subject rather abruptly.”

“Odd, that,” Hugh remarked as they glided back across the floor. “She usually drags him out for at least one dance. And even when she cannot convince him to dance, they’re rarely beyond arm’s length of one another.”

She was in no mood to dwell upon Elyse’s marital woes. Perhaps it was selfish, but she wanted only to focus on the pleasure of dancing with Hugh. It would end far too quickly as it was, and she didn’t want to waste a moment. They were halfway through the waltz, and she didn’t ever want it to end.

No mention was made of what happened between them, and though she wanted to bring it up, the words failed her. More than once, however, her gaze lowered to his lips, and a delicious shiver rippled through her as she recalled the feel of them against hers. No…it was best
not
to go there. She was afraid she might do something rash—such as pull him down for another kiss.

The room seemed warmer. Hugh’s fingers pressed in a bit harder on her hip, and then his hand relaxed. It was enough to jolt her back, though, and she blurted, “Do they fight often?” for lack of anything wittier to say.

He guided her into another turn, and lifted broad shoulders in a lazy shrug. “No more than any other couple, I suppose. Ashton rubs the wrong way at times, and Elyse is hardly immune to it.”

She cocked her head to the left. “Is that right?”

“His introduction to the family was less than ideal. But as that is Elyse’s story, I shall leave it to her to tell you if she chooses.”

She could no longer ignore Sally’s murderous scowl as it almost seared her skin. Hugh didn’t appear to notice, as his gaze remained holding hers. Clearing her throat, she said, “It seems your lady is not very pleased with me at the moment.”

Hugh cast a quick glance over his right shoulder, but was unconcerned when he faced her again. “She’ll be fine. She’ll yell at me later and work it out of her system.”

“Yell at you? That hardly seems fair. Why the devil would she yell at
you
?”

“I assure you, it’s nothing. I hear she offered to help you in your quest for the proper husband.”

She resisted rolling her eyes, but wasn’t able to hold back her rueful chuckle. Ah, Sally was indeed making her claim quite clear. “Yes. That she has. And it has been a smashing success. An utterly smashing success, if I may be so bold. She has paraded some very—ah—
interesting
suitors my way.”

“So I’ve seen.” His eyes sparkled with a hint of the devil. “The redness has finally faded from Pemberton’s cheek, by the by.”

Embarrassment scorched through her, but she shook her head. “He had it coming, the rogue. Laddie is fortunate it wasna more than a slap. Had I a pistol, he’d not have tae worry about giving up his precious bachelor’s status.”

The glint faded from his eyes, his expression serious. “You were wise to slap him,” he replied easily. “He’s a bit of a snake where ladies are concerned. I’d hate to have seen you fall under his spell.”

“Concerned for my reputation again, are you? You should take care with that, as it might raise eyebrows. But you’ve nothing to fear, as I am hardly about to
fall under his spell
, as you so graciously put it. I’m not quite so simple a creature, and Lord Saintsbury is not exactly what I’d consider a good catch.” Miranda tried to keep her voice light, but in truth, she wanted to yank herself from his arms at the insult. However, to leave a second dance without finishing would be an unpardonable sin.

Hugh scowled. “I meant no insult. I mean only to warn—”

She refused to meet his gaze but stared resolutely over his shoulder. “To warn me. Of course. Because I couldn’t possibly know better myself, isn’t that right? Och, you men are all the same. You all fancy a bit of a tumble, only not with the one you plan to marry.”

“I’m not at all like Pemberton.”

“Aren’t you?” Now she met his gaze directly. “Since you entered the ballroom you looked at me not once. What happened earlier meant nothing to you. I don’t suppose I can blame you, but I can promise you, I will not fall under
your spell
again.”

“You presume to know my thoughts?”

An unexpected, but thoroughly brittle, laugh rose to her lips. “I dinna presume anything, however I also dinna hear you offering to court me. And your brother, supposedly a notorious rake who Elyse warned me against, did.”

The music faded into memory on a light, airy note, and she stepped back.

“I thank you for the dance, Your Grace, and the enlightenment.” She turned from him and walked away with as much pride as she could muster.

“Miranda.”

She heard him utter her name as she exited the dance floor but ignored him. She had no time to dwell, as just then Sir Roderick Stanley approached her. His name was next on her dance card, and there was no way to extricate herself without drawing attention. Instead, she managed a smile and allowed him to sweep her out for a reel.

****

“A word, Duke?”

Hugh groaned as Sally sidled up to him and slid her arm through his. He stood in the hallway just outside the ballroom with Gerard, Evan, and Harry. The party ended over an hour earlier, with most of the ladies retiring for the evening. He silently cursed his poor timing as he’d been about to sojourn to the billiards room to corner Ashton and find out what the poor bastard did to earn Elyse’s wrath. Judging by the fire in Sally’s blue eyes and the tight lines curving her mouth, he was in trouble. Derek and his problems could wait.

“If you gents will excuse me, I am afraid Lady Sally has urgent need to speak with me. Go on and enjoy.”

Gerard gave him a knowing smile. “Of course, old man. Don’t we always?”

Hugh managed a chuckle as he allowed Sally to draw him down the hallway, away from the crowds, and into the music room. His chuckle died away as she slammed the doors hard enough to rattle the walls. Propping his cane against the fine leather chaise near the fireplace, he leaned back against its arm and folded his own over his chest. “Dare I ask what has you in such a state, my lady?”

“You know very well, Hugh Thorpeton. You did little more than stare at
her
all evening. Have you
any
inkling as to what will be made of it?”


Her
?” He raised one eyebrow and steadily held her gaze. “And exactly who, may I ask, is
her
?”

“Do not play games with me when you know very well who
her
is.” Her white-blonde curls shook with very real fury, her face crimson. “That Scottish tart you insist upon flirting with at every turn.”

Though he’d expected this from her, it irritated him all the same, and irritation was far more difficult to hide. “Have you any inkling as to how ridiculous you sound, my lady?” He asked mildly, tapping his forefinger against his opposite arm. “Why this animosity toward Miss MacDonough? What has she done to incur your wrath?”

“How can you ask such a thing? Do you not see how she
stares
at you? Why, she practically
devours
you with her eyes and—” Her eyes widened until they were perfectly round, and her crimson fury grew into a frightening scarlet. “Are you
laughing
at me?”

He couldn’t help himself. Sally thrived on drama and she played her outraged hurt to the hilt. “Devours me with her eyes, eh? You’ll forgive me my amusement, but I think you are exaggerating.”

“Am I? I think not.”

As she spoke, Sally paced across the marble hearth, her artfully arranged curls bobbing merrily with each step. It was more flouncing than actual pacing, as she bounded back and forth. Bursting with irate energy, she moved quicker with each step, until Hugh grew dizzy watching her.

“She is a friend, Sally, nothing more and nothing less.” He unfolded his arms to let his hands come to rest on the warm, curved leather sofa arm. The hour was late and weariness settled in. He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “And she is here to find a husband. Why would she look at me the way you claim when you have made it quite clear you will one day be the Duchess of Thorpeton?”

“But
when
?” she burst out impatiently, throwing her hands into the air. “You keep saying this is going to happen and yet…nothing.”

“I have had much to deal with this last year.”

“I want you to stay away from her,” Sally blurted, the stain in her cheeks slowly fading back to its original strawberries-and-cream perfection. “No more dances. No more
helping
Elyse. In fact, I think it’d be best if you were to return to London as soon as possible. Or Stoneham. Anyplace away from
here
. Away from
her
.”

Anger flared through his gut at her demand. Fingers tightening about the cane’s hilt, he rounded on her. “I will do no such thing. I’ll be damned if I am going to scurry out of here like a whipped pup because
you
are jealous.”

“Jealous?” Her hands, clenched into tiny fists, rested on her hips. “You are mad. Why on earth would
I
be jealous of that…
creature
?”

“I haven’t the foggiest. But you will accept I am not leaving until it is entirely necessary. And as for Miss MacDonough, you might be a bit more understanding. She is in a new place, without any family to speak of save her aunt. It won’t kill you to offer up a bit of compassion. And I do hope it will be more than you’ve ever shown me.”

She waved an airy hand at the cane clenched in his fist. “Because I think you rely on
that
as much as you do?” Her eyes narrowed. “I find it quite amusing, how you had no need for that silly little stick when you were dancing with
Miranda.
Why, it was very nearly a miracle.”

His jaw clenched. Her spoiled side was childish and it disgusted him. “It was a waltz. I am not so much a cripple I cannot last for a waltz on two legs. I am sorry I am not whole enough to dance a quadrille without it, but I am afraid we all must sacrifice something every now and again.”

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