Chapter 5

"Felicity, are you paying attention?" Felicity"s father huffed at her. "Felicity?!"

"Hmm?" Felicity said vaguely, turning back to see her father glaring at her.

"You weren't, were you?"

"Weren't what?"

"Paying attention!" He crossed his arms. "Honestly, I don't know why I bother."

Felicity smirked. "I don't know why you do either."

"Do not start again..." He narrowed his eyes in warning. "You promised me that you would at least keep an open mind and as far as I am concerned, that means two things. One, no more arguing with me – I won't have it. Not tonight."

"And two?" she asked dryly, taking some pleasure in how frustrated her father was becoming; a common theme for tonight, it seemed.

"That you pay attention!"

He had been correct in his assessment. Felicity was most certainly not paying him any attention. Oh, she had meant to. And until a few moments ago, she had been doing her best not to upset him more than she already had tonight – the fact that she was still here! But then she had glanced across the Ball Room, caught sight of something she hadn't expected to see, and become distracted.

It was His Grace dancing that had done it. And not just the fact that he was dancing, but who he was dancing with. Lady Beatrice Selkirk, a contemporary of Felicity's who she wasn't surprised to see dancing with the Duke, even if she was a little wary of it. The woman was a tempest in a teacup, a true agent of chaos known to move mountains to get her way. And the fact that she was dancing with His Grace...

Not that Felicity cared who the Duke danced with. She didn't! But as she watched them waltz, she couldn't help but wonder who had asked to dance with whom. Was Beatrice trying to seduce the Duke, or was it the other way around? Logic told her the Duke, the rake, was the one making those moves but she also knew Beatrice well enough to know that the woman wouldn't have said yes unless she had good reason. What was she playing at?

"Felicity!" her father snapped and grabbed her arm. "Honestly, where is your head tonight?"

"Sorry, father," she grimaced at herself. "Maybe I am just tired."

"Have you heard anything I have been saying?"

"About?" she asked. His face fell and she grinned. "I am joking, Father. Of course, I have."

"Well?" he pressed. "What do you think? I have given you three viable options but, as promised, you get to have the final say."

"Lucky me..." she added dryly, enough acid in her tone so her father would know how little she appreciated the offer.

They had come to an agreement of sorts. Rather than outright refusing his proposal to see her courted, Felicity had promised him that she would keep an open mind and entertain the notion. Her father would suggest some candidates, but she was to be given the final say on whom she spoke with and, ultimately, if it came to it, who she said yes to.

Not that she planned on saying yes to anyone. But for tonight, she figured this was the best way to get him off her back.

"Good." Her father stepped beside her, placing a hand on the small of her back as he guided her attention over the ball. "Now, which one did you like the sound of? Lord Branzen is young but a little brash. Lord Chesworth is a nice sort but perhaps a little old? Lord Malbrow, you know how close I am with him? A nicer man you could not hope to find."

Felicity forced a smile as she searched with her father, pretending to consider the options... only to then notice a most alarming sight.

His Grace was making a beeline for her. At first, she thought she was imagining things, for surely he should know better than that. With the way she had spoken to him earlier, she would have thought the last thing he would want to do was speak with her again. But sure enough, a quick glance in his direction and there could be no doubt.

"Lord Drowshire!" His Grace said as he reached them. "And Lady Felicity, a pleasure." He took a step back and bowed deeply, and then he reached for Felicity's hand.

She had no choice but to give it, and he seemed to delight in accepting and giving the back a wet kiss, all while looking into her eyes in a way that made her stomach turn... or flutter. She couldn't quite tell which.

"Your Grace," her father greeted stiffly; his hand moved to Felicity's waist as if to pull her closer as a form of protection. He was not a fan of the Duke's, furious with his interruption of the luncheon last week. But he was a bastion of the ton and proper decorum and knew better than to show any rudeness to a duke. "It is a pleasure to see you again."

"The pleasure is all mine," His Grace said with a charming smile. "And of course, your lovely daughter. I was walking past just now and for a moment, I thought someone was shining a light in my eyes but then I realized it was simply the radiant glow that she embodies."

"Oh please..." Felicity said.

"Why, that is very kind of you to say," her father frowned, not sure how to take the compliment.

"Think nothing of it. In fact, may I be so bold as to ask her for a dance? I would not think to do so without your permission."

Felicity's eyes widened in shock. "Father..." She turned quickly to look at her father. "Were you not just saying that we were about to leave?"

Her father frowned. "No, I don't think so --"

"Perfect!" His Grace took Felicity by the hand. "Do not worry, Lord Drowshire, I will have her back in one piece, I promise you."

"Oh... well... yes..." her father blustered, not sure what to say.

"And you, Lady Felicity," His Grace held that charming smile as he pulled her toward him. "I hope you brought your dancing shoes."

Felicity was stunned. Truly, shocked to silence. If she hadn't been, she might have simply denied the Duke, for clearly, she did not care what he thought of her. She'd made that very well clear! But in the moment, caught completely off guard, all she could do was allow herself to be led by him to the dance floor.

There was a spring to his step as he led her. And once they reached the floor, that same smile held while he took her hand and placed his other on her waist – a tight grip, one which had her flinching. He held her close, and she realized that she'd had no idea of how big he was. Broad shoulders. A thick chest. He towered over her in a way that wasn't at all unpleasant --

No! She gave a shake of her head. Yes, she found him attractive. That had been well established. But that was where it ended, and despite this sudden desire to dance with her, surely the Duke was aware of her feelings for him?

"Surprised?" he asked with a coy smile as the music began. "You look as if you have seen a ghost."

"I --" She opened her mouth to respond, something scathing as had become her way when speaking with the Duke. But she stopped herself as a sudden sense of guilt swept through her.

She had been unnecessarily rude to His Grace. Ever since their first meeting, she had been downright nasty. At the time, she had felt it justified simply because of who he was and what he was known for. But the more Felicity thought of it, the more she was forced to accept that rumors weren't always true. In fact, usually, they were complete fabrications. She knew this from experience and that she had been so willing to write the Duke off based on heresy and conjecture... well, truth be told, she was slightly embarrassed.

"I think I should apologize," she sighed.

"Oh?"

"For how I behaved earlier." She could feel the Duke relax as he held her, and she allowed herself to be led rather than dancing stiffly and awkwardly. "It was uncalled for and for that I apologize."

"No apology necessary," he assured her, although she could sense the relief in his voice. "And believe me when I say, I have been spoken to a lot worse than that."

"Oh, I do not doubt that for a minute," she chuckled.

"The good news is, now most people just avoid me instead. So in a way, maybe I should be thanking you? Sure, you abused me to within an inch of my life, but at least you spoke with me."

She rolled her eyes but couldn't stop herself from grinning. "Funny."

"I am also charming, you know?"

Her expression dropped. "Careful. I only agreed to this dance because you ambushed me. Any of that nonsense that you are well known for, and I will not hesitate to walk away." She cocked a warning eyebrow at him.

He laughed. "Fair enough. I promise to be on my best behavior."

"See that you are."

They danced together in silence for a moment, which wasn't nearly as awkward as it might have been. If anything, it was a little too comfortable. The Duke was a good dancer, he knew how to lead without dragging her about the dance floor, and the grip he held on her waist was firm and commanding without being too suggestive.

So, relaxing now, Felicity fell into step. As she did, she studied the Duke closely while also being careful that he wouldn't see her doing so. He hadn't been exaggerating about his charm, and Felicity wondered if it was a natural thing or if this was some sort of ploy. Had he asked her to dance because he wanted to try and seduce her? Or was he simply being friendly? But if he was that, why?

"Might I ask you a question?" she ventured.

"I was hoping you would," he chuckled.

"Why me?"

"Excuse me?"

"Why did you ask to dance with me – and don't feed me some line. I want the truth, if you are capable of such a thing?" She raised both eyebrows at him.

The Duke considered this, his brow furrowing tightly. "Truthfully? And this is going to sound a little sad, so try not to feel sorry for me." She snorted and he smiled. "I felt that you were a safe bet."

"And that means?"

"It means that people around here talk. A little too freely. They talk and they judge and they make assumptions. You know what they say of me and you know as well as they do that anyone whom I choose to dance with will be judged accordingly – another woman the Duke is trying to seduce. But you, Lady Felicity..." He grinned. "I sense that they will not think the same of you."

"And why is that?" she asked, wondering if she should feel offended.

"Allow me to speak frankly for a moment, but from what I have heard of you, you hate men with such a passion that you would never dream of being taken advantage of by --"

"That is not true!"

He chuckled. "I am aware that you only hate them a little bit."

"I do not hate men," she hissed.

"But they think you do." He flicked his head toward the crowd that was watching them. "So when they see us together, they will hopefully just think it a casual dance and nothing more. Believe me, I do not need the headache that more rumor is going to cause."

"And Lady Beatrice?" she parried. "What of her?"

His lip curled. "As I ambushed you, she ambushed me. She is a lovely woman, very friendly but..." He sucked through his teeth. "She is also very forward, aggressive in getting the things that she wants, and is not the type to take no for an answer."

"And are you? The type to take no for an answer."

"I wouldn't dream of asking the question in the first place," he shot back quickly. "I have no designs on Lady Beatrice. Believe me when I say that."

Was it strange that Felicity felt relieved when she heard him say that? It should be because she shouldn't have cared. For some reason, she did, as if she had needed to hear him confirm it so that she would know that all of this wasn't one big lie – again, the idea that he was playing her. But as they continued to dance, and as she continued to study him, Felicity got the sense that for once he was being honest...

"Your turn," His Grace started. The music picked up in pace and he pulled her closer, that hand of his sliding down just a little. She could feel his breathing in his chest; she could feel his heart beating. It suddenly occurred to Felicity that she hadn't been this close to another man in... well, ever! So why did it feel so natural? "Lady Felicity?"

"Hmm?" She gave her head a shake, cheeks flushing as if worried he could read her mind.

"I said your turn."

"Co -- concerning?" she stammered as she straightened up and fixed her expression.

"Why are you here? From the little I know of you, this is the last place I would think to find you. And yet here you are, clearly not enjoying yourself but doing your best to pretend otherwise."

"And how do you know I am not enjoying myself?" she fired back defensively.

"Because you are dancing with me," he chuckled.

She laughed before she could stop herself. "Do you really want to know?"

"Only if you wish to tell me," he answered as he lifted her suddenly from the ground, spun her about, placed her back on her feet and then continued to lead.

"The truth of it – seeing as we are being truthful. My father is the reason."

"Oh?"

"He wishes for me to wed. The most obvious of reasons, the most expected also. But he forced me to come tonight in the vein hope that I might meet the love of my life and live happily ever after."

"You sound awfully pleased with the notion," he chuckled.

She eyed him warningly and he grinned. "Marriage is not for me. My sisters, maybe, but I have never seen the point."

"Is that so?" he asked, sounding intrigued.

"I mean... do not get me wrong. It is not that I am against the notion. I see the point. But the idea of marrying a man simply because I must is absurd. That doing so will fulfill me in some way that could not be achieved were I to remain single..." She scoffed.

"So, you are not entirely against marriage then?" he probed. "But only if the condition suits."

She laughed. "I suppose so."

"And your father? I take it he does not agree with this philosophy."

Her lips curled. "He thinks I am idealistic and wasting my life. Oh, he means well. I know he does. But I just wish he would drop it. Although as I know him as well as I do, I also know now that he has this idea planted in his head, he will stop at nothing to see it through."

"May I ask what brought about this disdain for marriage?"

"I never said I disdained it."

"Still. Such a view would not be borne from nothing."

She considered saying more. The way the two were getting along, how natural it felt, she nearly ran off on a tangent that few knew about. But she held her tongue, because the reasons for her choice of lifestyle were indeed caused by personal matters, ones that she did not feel the need to share with the Duke.

"You may ask but that does not mean I will tell you," she said simply.

"Fair enough." The Duke couldn't have looked more pleased. "It sounds like you will be getting married soon then. If your father gets his way."

She leveled a glare at him. "Do not look so happy about it."

Suddenly, the music began to slow down and as soon as it did, His Grace fell back, releasing her hand and waist so he might bow his thanks to her. "It was a pleasure," he said, that charming smile of his returning.

"As it was mine," she said with a curtsey.

"Good luck with everything," he then offered. "Sincerely, I hope that you find an arrangement that is agreeable."

"Thank you..." she said, not sure how to respond.

And with that said, the Duke left her. A final smile and he turned on his heel and ducked through the crowd, gone as if he was never there. And Felicity was left standing on the dance floor, staring after him. She had no idea what to make of their little encounter, where it had come from, why, and what happened next. Maybe the Duke was telling her the truth, and this could be seen as a peace offering? Maybe she would never hear from him again, which once she might have countered as a good thing.?

Although, as she wandered back to find her father, Felicity was forced to admit that if she did run into His Grace again, whatever the circumstance, it would not be the worst thing to ever happen. She could still feel the warmth of his breath on her neck, the feel of his large chest pressed against her own, and his hand holding her waist with a sense of command and strength that she wasn't at all used to.

Yes… seeing him again would not be the worst of circumstances. And that in itself was as big of a surprise as she could imagine.