Duke of Lust (Sinful Dukes #3)

Chapter 14

CHAPTER 14

“ A nnabelle!” said Stephen with surprise and disapproval as she handed him her wrap on entering the grand ballroom at Lord and Lady Orville’s palatial London home. “Good Lord, you are almost bare!”

“I am perfectly well-covered and the weather is too warm for a wrap,” Annabelle retorted rebelliously, having carefully and deliberately kept her Madame Deveaux ballgown hidden from her brother’s eyes until they were safely arrived and surrounded by others. “Anyway, look at some of the other ladies here. Their gowns are far more daring, but less elegant.”

Just as at the Yardley ball, the gold silk with its subtle blue underskirts and fastenings drew instant attention from ladies and gentlemen around them. Annabelle understood well enough now that the appreciation of the men was far more for her generous breasts than the gown that partly covered them. She hoped that some of them would ask her to dance and Stephen would allow it.

“But none of those ladies are my sister and the daughter of the Duke of Colborne,” Stephen pointed out unhappily. “Anyway, they are likely all married ladies and you know that makes a difference. Well, there’s nothing to be done now, but we really must make an appointment with Mrs. Fenchurch or some other good English dressmaker.”

“There is no need, Stephen,” Annabelle sighed. “I have enough clothes for this season.”

“You clearly do not like the clothes Mother chose or you would not have allowed the Duke of Heartwick to make you such inappropriate gifts. Every gown I see you in shocks me more than the last. I would rather see you wearing something that both pleases you and respects propriety.”

“Look, there’s Victoria Crawford with her cousins,” Annabelle pointed out across the ballroom by way of distraction, smiling brightly to her friend and hoping they could soon speak to her. “I wonder who else will be here?”

Annabelle had shut down several conversations with Stephen over her new wardrobe from Madame Deveaux in the days since she returned from Heartwick Hall. The memories of Frederick’s hands trailing swathes of silk over her half-dressed body were too risqué and too intimate to risk their exposure.

“Come, let us make a tour of the room and greet our friends and acquaintances, Annabelle,” Stephen declared. "Then we shall dance together.”

“Of course,” she replied flatly.

Dancing with her brother was more a chore than a pleasure for Annabelle, although he knew the steps well enough and was by no means clumsy. It was only that Stephen always seemed so concerned about doing everything properly, even when they were meant to be having fun.

It was not like dancing with Frederick, nor with Oswald Quince, both of whom took great pleasure in music and movement, although in different ways. On the dance floor she would would have swapped Stephen for either of them in a heartbeat.

“Good evening, Lord Easterly,” sounded Stephen’s voice as they stopped by a small party composed of the the red-haired young man and a gaggle of his sisters. “Lady Sarah, Lady Susan, Lady Sylvia. You know my sister, Lady Annabelle?”

“Yes, we met at Lord and Lady Yardley’s ball,” said Annabelle with a smile, offering her greeting to each of the family in turn. “How lovely to see you all here again.”

In attempting to bow, young Lord Easterly accidentally butted one of his sisters and disarranged her hair, causing all of his siblings to tut at him politely.

“Dear me…Erm. Lady Annabelle, I wonder if you might like to…”

“You will be fully occupied in dancing with your sisters tonight,” Annabelle broke in quickly. “I could not deprive them of your company. Perhaps we will all see each other at supper. Do excuse us.”

Exerting pressure on Stephen’s arm, she drew him onward, taking a moment to perceive the surprise on his face.

“Lord Easterly dances very ill and I have seen him tread upon and ruin his sister’s dress before now,” Annabelle explained. “Your disapproval and a large tear together might prove too much for this gown.”

To her surprise, Stephen actually smiled.

“That was nicely done, Annabelle. You spoke sensibly and politely. It is also quite proper, as you say, that Lord Easterly should devote himself to his sisters if his mother is not present to do so. I naturally intend to do the same.”

She nodded politely, although less than happy with the thought that Stephen intended to remain at her side. Annabelle also realized that she had surprised her brother in taking the initiative and exerting her own will, having normally followed his lead at social events.

Had Frederick been right that sometimes she was treated as a child because she acted like one? Well, no more, she thought to herself with new confidence. She was a woman.

“Do you know that man in black over there, smiling at us?” Stephen asked her, and she almost laughed to see who it as.

“I know that Lord Blackwell is a friend of Frederick’s,” Annabelle said, daring a slight smile and nod towards the man who raised his glass of champagne to them but thankfully made no move to approach.

“Blackwell?! I do not wish you to know that man,” remarked her brother tersely, changing their direction to put him both out of their path and line of sight. “You wanted to greet Miss Crawford and her cousins, did you not? They are over there.”

Annabelle guessed that Stephen might throw a fit if he knew that his younger sister had actually attended one of Lord Blackwell’s parties, witnessed scenes of huge social transgression and conversed with the man in person. If Stephen knew what Frederick had done with her after the party, he would struggle to decide which of the two men he wished to horsewhip first.

Thinking of Frederick, would he be there tonight or not? Annabelle had spent all day imagining dancing with him again, knowing that every touch in the dance now seemed linked to every kiss or caress he had ever bestowed, clothed or unclothed. Unhappily, she realized that she might have become one of the many women who threw themselves at Frederick in public. One of many.

“Victoria! I’m so glad you’re here,” said Annabelle, embracing her friend. “I know you don’t come out to many balls so I did not expect you.”

“My cousins wished to attend and I do love to dance. Lord Emberly, how good to see you too. I was glad to hear from Annabelle of your father’s improvement. It must be a comfort to your whole family.”

As Victoria spoke, and then introduced her two cousins, she extended an arm and shook the hand of the astounded Stephen as though she were a man herself, greeting a fellow club member. Her dress was a simple Grecian-style white muslin, designed for ease of movement more than decoration, Annabelle suspected. Her golden-brown hair was piled carelessly on her head as though done in haste in the carriage en route .

“How kind, Miss Crawford. Yes, we are much relieved,” Stephen said, still non-plussed by Victoria’s manner but unfailingly polite and proper. “I trust that you and your cousins fare well?”

“Very well, although we are sadly lacking any gentlemen in our party tonight. I hope we might prevail upon you when the dancing begins, Lord Emberly, if Annabelle will permit it?”

Stephen’s amazement at Victoria’s direct style made Annabelle laugh to herself. It must be hard to be her brother, always so proud and proper.

“Of course you must dance with Victoria and her cousins as well as me, Stephen,” Annabelle said with her new self-assurance. “My brother dances very well, I assured you all. You need have no care for your skirts or your toes.”

“Naturally, Miss Crawford. I am at your service, ladies,” Lord Emberly said with a small bow, unable to do anything else although Annabelle could tell that something bothered him.

Promising to return when the music began, Annabelle drew Stephen away again.

“I should speak to Duke Maxwell,” Stephen worried aloud. “Victoria Crawford is a fine young woman but she does put herself at risk, being so forward and going about without any gentleman as escort. Those cousins are barely older than she is. I must keep an eye on their party tonight. It would be remiss to do otherwise.”

Despite her own belief in Victoria’s capability, Annabelle nodded with satisfaction, seeing her own opportunities for freedom opening up. She might even manage to dance with some other men, ideally including Frederick…

But Frederick might not even attend tonight, after all. With Annabelle gone from under his roof, he was free to indulge himself at home at he wished. He might even now be at Heartwick Hall, closeted in his bedroom with some willing beauty, or more than one – experienced and sophisticated women he could enjoy without restraint.

Images of Lady Gordney, Lady Coltenay and the unnamed blonde women loomed before her, all smiling at her patronizingly with knowing eyes as they gave Frederick all that Annabelle could not. Or rather, that Frederick refused to take from her. She knew well enough now that she would refuse him nothing if he had sought it. The thought of other women providing him with physical satisfaction was painful.

“…brought up without a mother, Miss Crawford likely does not fully understand the social conventions…” droned Stephen but Annabelle was no longer giving him her full attention.

A golden-haired man in a dark blue suit had entered the ballroom and Annabelle suspected she would have known it was Frederick merely from the expressions on the faces of other ladies as they regarded him. His expression was focused, as though searching for someone, and he did not stop to talk as he made his way through the gathering crowd. Her heart began to beat faster.

“…dressed as though she’d just risen from bed…” continued Stephen’s commentary on Victoria Crawford. “Did you notice that she had no gloves?”

“The music is beginning, Stephen. Why don’t you go and ask Victoria to dance now and get it over with, if the thought is so awful?”

“Yes, you are right. I should warn her of her behavior too. Don’t go far until I return. Good Lord, what if Miss Crawford were to greet the Duke of Blackford as she greeted me, shaking his hand with bare fingers and inviting him to dance? There is no telling how that kind of man might interpret such an approach from a young woman.”

“Go,” Annabelle instructed him, her eyes still fixed on Frederick and a slight smile on her lips as their eyes met and he began to make directly for her. “Or someone else might take the first dance.”

Again, she almost felt sorry for Stephen and the burden of all his worldly cares. From her own short acquaintance with the Duke of Blackford, she already felt sure that he would likely do nothing with Victoria Crawford any more than with Annabelle herself. Edwin Murden would rather seek out a woman of his own kind and nature, like Lady Gordney.

Annabelle’s heart was pounding as Stephen walked away and Frederick approached, the smile on his face seemingly only for her although she knew at heart that half the women in the ballroom would likely feel it too.

“Lady Annabelle,” the Duke of Heartwick said very properly, taking her gloved hand and bowing over it with perfect propriety. “Your gown becomes you as well as the first time you wore it. It makes me think of moonlight.”

“You also look well, Duke Frederick,” Annabelle said with equal propriety although her mouth felt clumsy as she spoke and she feared what could accidentally emerge.

“I see your brother is already dancing. Lord Emberly is rarely the first on the dance floor.”

“He wishes to warn Miss Crawford about her forward behavior,” she said with a smile and Frederick laughed.

“There are not many young ladies who would take kindly to that,” he noted and then took two glasses of champagne from a passing tray for them. “We should dance too, as we always do, should we not?”

Annabelle’s heart was still beating madly but Frederick’s bonhomie puzzled her a little. He seemed more like Penelope’s older brother again now and not the passionate man who had awakened her physical desires and shown her something of the adult world. Was Frederick going to pretend that their interlude at Heartwick Hall had never happened?

“I wasn’t sure whether you would be here, Frederick,” she said. “I thought that you might have other priorities now that I’m not living at Heartwick Hall.”

“I promised to help you find a husband, didn’t I?” he answered. “If you still want my help.”

“I always want…your help,” Annabelle stumbled over her response, falling into her old blushes as she slightly misspoke and then raising her eyes to find Frederick appraising her with frank male desire.

“Good,” he said shortly, veiling his expression again and offering his arm. “Look, Stephen and Victoria are going to dance the quadrille together too, although they don’t seem very happy about it.”

“Oh dear,” Annabelle commented, following his gaze towards the other couple who had surprisingly remained on the dance floor but were now glaring at one another. “You were right that she has not taken kindly to whatever Stephen said, but then, why are they going to dance again?”

“Each of them still has something to say and is determined that the other must hear it,” Frederick suggested with a grin. “We are all the captives of our partners once the dance begins.”

Annabelle had to control her breathing that threatened to become ragged with the pounding of her heart. The feeling of Frederick’s arm beneath her fingers reminded her of the play of other muscles under her hand. His chest, his shoulders and his belly, stroked either through his shirt or skin on skin, her fingers trailing through faint golden hair as his mouth took kiss after kiss from her own…

Here and now, there could be no such games, nor even open reference to them. She felt simultaneously closer to Frederick than ever and yet an uncrossable chasm lay between them, its edges guarded by Stephen, Duchess Sarah and all the other good upstanding citizens of the ton. She only wished she knew how to cross the divide.

“What are you thinking?” Fredrick broke in on her thoughts and she realized that he had been gazing at her face rather than at Stephen and Victoria for the last few moments.

His question was somehow knowing, tender and curious all at once. In response, she could only shake her head shyly and fruitlessly to hold back the flush of her cheeks.

“God, you’re so beautiful when you blush,” Frederick declared under his breath, his tone abruptly as intimate as when he was in her bedroom and she was virtually naked and helpless in his arms.

“Duke Frederick, Lady Annabelle,” interrupted a cheerful voice from behind them, startling them both. “Now that we’re back in Lady Annabelle’s more usual environment, I believe I am owed a dance.”

“Ah, Lord Darrington,” said Frederick with a quick bow. “Yes, I must apologize for my impetuosity at our last meeting.”

“No, no. It was all right and proper of you but I would have liked to have finished the dance. May I?”

Oswald Quince offered his arm to Annabelle while looking inquiringly at Frederick. With a sigh of sad, resigned amusement, the latter nodded.

“Lord Emberly would thoroughly approve,” he said inscrutably.

While he was not going to object, she could not tell whether Frederick was actually happy for her to dance with Oswald now or not. Still, he had not yet invited her to dance himself and they could surely not simply stand there together all night.

Tense with the unspoken emotions of the preceding minutes, Annabelle regarded the calm and jolly Lord Darrington with relief although part of her wished to remain at Frederick’s side. She finally took Oswald Quince’s arm with a smile.

“Your brother is here? I would like to speak to Lord Emberly when he is not engaged, Lady Annabelle. Perhaps you would be good enough to present me after our dance.”

“Certainly,” Annabelle replied, nodding a farewell to Frederick and suddenly noticing that, for the first time in their acquaintance, he actually looked rather tired. “Although I must warn you that Stephen does not care much for gossip or any kind of fun.”

“It takes all sorts to make a world,” Lord Darrington shrugged. “Aha, a reel – my favorite! Come on!”

Caught up in his easy merriment, Annabelle let herself be swept onto the dance floor.

Stephen evidently did indeed approve. Briefed by Frederick during the first reel, and likely having checked Oswald Quince’s credentials with other guests, or knowing something of him already, her brother only nodded and smiled at her when she accepted a second dance with Lord Darrington.

At Lord Emberly’ side, Frederick looked less content but Annabelle was relieved to find that he and her brother were still at least on speaking terms.

“Duke Frederick looks a little down in the mouth tonight, doesn’t he?” Oswald remarked as he swirled her around in the waltz. “I dare say he is missing your company at Heartwick Hall now that Lord Emberly is back. Anyone would.”

“You are a blatant flatterer!” Annabelle laughed, enjoying their spinning.

“Not at all. Your dress is divine, you have taught me at least three new pieces of very naughty gossip about fellow guests before the clock has even struck ten, never mind your wonderful dancing. You are an excellent companion for any social venture, in my opinion, Lady Annabelle. That is not flattery, it is truth.”

“Then I thank you for your good opinion, Oswald,” she returned, happy to be so genuinely and straightforwardly appreciated. “I’m afraid this dress is part of the problem with Frederick though. He won’t let Stephen pay for it because I was staying at Heartwick Hall when it was made, but Stephen is very proper and does not like other men buying me clothes.”

“Dear me,” said Oswald sympathetically. “That does rather leave you stuck in the middle, doesn’t it? At least they both have better manners than to argue in public.”

“Exactly,” Annabelle sighed. “I knew you would understand, Oswald. You’re not all complicated and mixed-up, like Frederick and Stephen.”

“I have to be simple,” said her companion with a smile, “because the world around me is so complicated and I must fit in with it where I can, or at least appear to. One day, I must even marry to fit in, I dare say.”

“Yes, so must I,” she noted. “It is the done thing, isn't it? And, as a young woman reliant on my family, I shall have no freedom until I do.”

“Is that you most want from a marriage, Lady Annabelle, freedom? Not love?”

Annabelle shrugged and then shook her head.

“There must be trust and respect between a husband and wife, mustn’t there? I suppose love might come in its own time but it’s all too hard to understand.”

Oswald Quince smiled and spun Annabelle again in the dance, seeming very satisfied with something she had just said.

“Freedom, trust and respect. What a sensible young lady you are, Lady Annabelle. That is what we should all aspire to in marriage, I believe. I shall make it my own motto too.”

They danced on happily, enjoying one another’s company and unaware of any audience.