Chapter 2

Dominic Worthington, the Duke of Fairhaven, decided that he would wait to collect his dance. Any lady would do. The will did not specify. All it specified was that he had exactly a year left. That meant that the clock was ticking dangerously fast.

Usually, these festivities were bothersome to him. He would much rather spend the evening at White's with a few close friends, indulging in a friendly game of cards and a few drinks.

Those evenings were always fun. But being a duke and one of the wealthiest gentlemen in London came not only with its perks, but also with its obligations, which he could not escape, no matter how much he wanted to. Attending Lord and Lady Chatham's annual ball was one of those obligations.

On a rare occasion, he would indulge in one of the vices known to every man, no matter what station he belonged to: watching. One of the advantages of being friends with both the host and the hostess was that he was able to ensconce on a private balcony, and enjoy a solitary drink there, merely observing the gathering lords and ladies. They came and went like ants, busy with nonexistent affairs they had created to make themselves feel and seem important.

That was when he noticed her first.

The woman took his breath away. Her gown shimmered like moonlight on water, perfectly accentuating her porcelain skin that glowed under the light of an endless row of candles. Her eyes, pools of warmth, sparkled with a hint of curiosity and intrigue as she observed the scene around her. She looked slightly out of place, just like himself. That only seemed to heighten the attention and admiration her presence commanded.

She entered with a man, and he immediately wondered who the man was. A husband? A brother? A close friend? Strangely enough, Dominic wanted to find out. And that curiosity was enough to send him down from the solitary comfort of his balcony into the very hell of the ton itself.

He approached a close friend, wrapping his arm around his shoulder in a conspiratorial manner. "Tom, I need you to turn around very slowly and look at the lady in a shimmering purple gown, the redheaded one. But… very slowly, understood?"

Thomas Willoughby, Dominic's close friend, frowned in confusion first, then a flicker of understanding lit up inside of him. "Oh! Right, right. Let me just…" he said, pretending to yawn, then turned around to do as he was instructed. Then, he quickly turned around. "You mean Lady Catherine?"

"Do you know her?" Dominic asked almost breathlessly, realizing that he had just gotten one step closer to her. He knew her name. Soon enough, he would know more.

Tom shrugged, not understanding the urgency in his friend's voice. "I've been introduced to her and her brother on one occasion, but I wouldn't call us friends or anything."

Her brother. Dominic could only hope that he was fortunate enough to have that man by her side be her brother, and as such, no competition for him. Desire gripped him even harder. Curiosity as well. Was she being courted by anyone? Not that he found that an obstacle.

"Can you make the introductions?" Dominic hated that he sounded so eager, but he could not control himself. He couldn't remember the last time a lady had caught his attention in such a manner leaving him utterly stunned and almost speechless. She was shining like a pearl in the mud. It was impossible not to notice her.

"Of course," Tom nodded, still slightly taken aback by the hasty nature of this friendly request. He gestured at the drink in his hand, the glass half full of yellowish liquid he was obviously enjoying up until that moment. "Let me just finish this—"

"Now, Tom," Dominic grabbed his friend's glass and downed it himself, slamming the glass on the table before them. "I owe you one for this."

Tom raised an amused eyebrow, but he knew better than to question his friend's sudden decisions. "Come on then."

With a mutual acquaintance by his side, Dominic seized an opportune moment to approach the lady who had occupied his every conscious thought. As they were heading towards them, she didn't seem to recognize Tom or him, which was understandable. The man standing next to her, who Dominic hoped with all his might was indeed her brother, turned around at the moment they approached them.

"Lord Stanhope," Tom greeted him cordially, bowing as he did so, his voice confident and friendly. He was the sort of man who could find common ground with absolutely anyone. That was one of his best traits. "I saw you across the room and wished to greet you and your lovely sister." He turned to the lady in question. "Lady Catherine, if I may observe, you look radiant this evening. You are even more beautiful than I remember." She smiled angelically at him, blushing ever so slightly in response to his compliment. Dominic wondered what it would take to have her smile at him like that.

"Lord Willoughby?" Lord Stanhope greeted the man with a slight confusion and a confident smile that excused the first. He was apparently not completely assured of the identity of the man who approached him and was genuine enough to show it. Dominic instantly liked the man for his openness even in a slightly awkward situation.

"Yes," Tom nodded again.

"A pleasure," Lord Stanhope shook Tom's hand, who turned to Dominic.

"May I introduce a good friend of mine, Dominic Worthington, the Duke of Fairhaven," Tom proceeded, as Dominic's anticipation grew. He could even feel his palms becoming clammy, denoting that he was actually nervous.

"Your Grace, it is an honor to make your acquaintance," Lord Stanhope greeted the man cordially. "This here is my sister, Catherine."

"Lady Catherine," Dominic bowed deeply before her, while she curtsied politely. "It is always a pleasure to be in the company of a goddess."

Catherine seemed slightly taken aback by such an obvious and unapologetic compliment, but she managed to put on a gracious smile. "The pleasure is mine, Your Grace."

As the introductions unfolded with Tom and Lord Stanhope's exchange of pleasantries, Dominic extended an invitation to Catherine with a confident and charming demeanor.

"I'm afraid that I cannot be robbed of your presence just yet, Lady Catherine," Dominic used all of his charms, unable to take his eyes off of the woman before him. "Would you do me the honor of sharing the next dance with me?"

Catherine glanced at her brother, turning to Dominic again after a moment. "I would, but I, umm… I'm afraid I have promised a dance to someone already."

"You have?"

"You have?"

The same question belonged to both Dominic and Lord Stanhope who both seemed equally surprised to hear her response. Her brother lifted an eyebrow. It became clear to Dominic instantly. She was politely refusing his offer of dance and needed her brother for corroboration. Fortunately for Dominic, her brother seemed to be on his side.

"If you mean Lord Stu…dlo…fun…tingon," the words were mumbled, almost as if he didn't know which exact name to pick out of his mind, so that the story could not be checked, "I think he left."

She gave him a frowning look. It was obvious that she wasn't expecting her brother to push her into this. Yet, her brother seemed to be amused by the whole situation. Dominic felt like patting the man on the shoulder in gratitude, but he resisted the temptation to do so.

"Yes, go ahead, Cate. Enjoy your dance," he urged. "I have to stay here with Lord Willoughby and discuss… things."

Dominic offered her his arm without hesitation. "Lady Catherine?"

He could see that she was eyeing him suspiciously, as her nostrils flared. The fact that she, of all the ladies there present, did not wish to dance with him and that only made him desire that dance even more. And the indication of her pique amused him beyond description. Her own politeness had become her undoing, and now she had to comply.

"Very well," she mustered through clenched teeth, resting her hand on his arm. It was a soft, butterfly touch, yet he felt it with the strength of a hurricane.

He led her to the central part of the ballroom, where the other dancers had already assembled for the waltz which was starting. He was aware of the eyes of other gentlemen, which made him proud to have her by his side.

"I am sorry for you missing a dance with Lord… Studlofuntington, was it?" he asked, hardly able to mask his amusement at the made-up name. "But I assure you that I am a match for him in dancing skills, if not even better. And a lady as beautiful as yourself deserves a skilled dancer who knows how to lead."

Her eyes fluttered only for a moment, but she had a response ready, just as he thought she would have. "Yes, you seem quite knowledgeable in what ladies need, Your Grace," she replied boldly, titillating him even further.

"I merely know my strengths, Lady Catherine," he told her with a mischievous wink, which made her blush. He didn't think that she could be any more breathtaking, but now he had proof otherwise. Her porcelain skin blushed in complexions he had never seen on a lady before, a rosy, pink hue deepening with every exchanged word.

"I'm sure you do," she added as he placed one hand upon the middle of her back, keeping her a little too close for comfort, just as he liked it. Her hand rested on his shoulder, and together, they started to dance.

"One of my strengths is to point out a beautiful thing when I see one," he told her, drinking in the sight of her. "Like you."

A ferocious frown graced her otherwise heavenly features. "Am I a thing to you then?"

He didn't want to admit that she caught him off guard. Usually, ladies would swoon over his lines, no matter what they were. Sometimes, he didn't even have to try that hard. But with her, it was proving to be a fun game. A very fun game indeed.

"Most certainly not," he replied. "I was merely speaking generally."

"I see," she nodded, without being amused.

He wanted her to continue the conversation. He wanted to see that little frown again, those dimples in her cheeks which appeared both when she smiled as well as when she frowned. But she seemed to wish to clam up. Disappointment washed over him, and he wondered what else he could tell her, that wasn't a compliment, which she obviously did not fancy receiving.

But why would he care anyway? It was just a dance to kill some time until it would be polite to wish the hosts goodbye and go home. Still, there was something about her that seemed to stand out. She was breathtakingly beautiful, that much was true, but he could sense that beneath that polite exterior of manners and quietness, lay a fire that needed to be ignited by a knowing hand. And his was just the right hand for the job.

Only then did he notice that they had already started dancing, and his body seemed to take over. She was tall for a lady, but still shorter than him, which made them fit together in a way he wasn't anticipating. He couldn't help but wonder in what other ways they might fit together… standing up or lying down, perhaps? The thought made him grin.

"Do you?" he wondered aloud, desirous to keep having this conversation for at least as long as their dance lasted.

"Do I what, Your Grace?" she wondered as they continued to move perfectly to the sound of the music that echoed around them. That was yet another thing he wasn't expecting, for them to dance so well together.

"Do you see, Lady Catherine," he clarified, "that I am most certainly a better dancer than Lord Studlofuntingon." He was actually beginning to like that name. It made him want to chuckle every time he thought of it.

"I did not have the chance to dance with him, so neither me nor you can know that for a fact," she replied in a way that made him want to throw away her dance card and reserve her selfishly only for himself the entire evening.

There was something rivetingly titillating, not just about their dance, but about her. She refused to succumb to his charms, like the other ladies would. From the onset, she showed him that she did not wish to dance with him, and even now, with the proof waving in her face, she was denying the fact that she was as drawn to him as he was to her. It was refreshing to see a lady in such control of herself. A rare sight, indeed.

"What do you know for a fact, Lady Catherine?" he wondered, as they whirled together, facing each other, then turning away, only to find themselves facing each other once more.

"That you are rather… confident," she said, as he spun her, relishing the sight of her gown as it twirled along with her. Something told him that he was the envy of every single gentleman who was watching the dancers, wishing they were in his place.

"I will accept that compliment," he nodded with a grin, as she faced him, her eyes deep and fathomless. He wanted to dive into their depths and never come out for air.

"You assumed it was a compliment," she returned, her eyes locking with his. Once again, she caught him speechless. Twice in one evening.

"Confidence is a skill," he explained. "And every skill needs to be honed."

As the final notes of the waltz died down, he assumed that they would simply continue on with the subsequent number. However, to his surprise, she curtsied before him with an even better excuse than her brother's made-up gentleman.

"Thank you, Your Grace, for a delightful dance," she smiled. "But if you will excuse me, I find myself a bit tired tonight and I shall go find a seat for the remainder of the evening. I hope you understand."

Momentarily stunned, he couldn't hide a flicker of disappointment. It was truly an excuse he could not undermine, lest he was considered aggressive, and that was the last thing he wanted to be. What he couldn't understand was her reluctance to be in his company.

Neither of them could deny the chemistry that blossomed between them during the dance. It ignited like fire in pitch darkness, and Dominic could find no way to extinguish it other than to have her by his side. Yet, she kept stubbornly refusing him that privilege.

"Of course," he nodded politely, bowing before her, with his arm bent at the elbow.

With a polite, but reserved smile, she moved away from him, disappearing into the vibrant crowd, away from him. Dominic still couldn't wrap his mind around what had just happened. No woman had ever refused a dance with him. In fact, it was he who had to hide away in other rooms, so he would have a moment of peace.

Now the tables had turned. Lady Catherine wanted to hide away from him. And it drove him insane.