A Dance to Tempt the Duke - Chapter 5

Felicity doubted any man could be more insensitive, more heartless or more cruel.

Not only had he broken her heart, but now he had the audacity to torment her by drawing attention to her single status, then accusing her of being a flirt.

Well, yes, she was being a flirt, but that was no concern of his. She had every right to flirt with any man she chose and he had absolutely no right to criticise her.

And as for her single status, if it hadn’t been for him leading her on, she might now be happily married to one of the other men who had been available last season. Instead, because of him, she had found herself once again back on the marriage market.

Despite her admonition to laugh, smile and have as much fun as possible, she sent him a scowl of disapproval. One he returned with a look of equal disdain before turning to Lady Margaret and chatting to her as if he were merely another man in pursuit of a wife, and not a cad who was hell-bent on destroying a young lady’s happiness.

‘Lady Felicity, is everything all right?’ Baron Grenville asked as he led her off the dance floor, his expression solicitous.

‘Oh, yes, perfectly,’ she said, sending him her brightest smile. Why could she not fall in love with a man such as the baron? He was, perhaps, a little dull, and of course he was not as handsome as the Duke of Greystone, but then, what man was?

She looked back across the room, and her heart did that annoying skip, just as it had when he had taken her hand during the quadrille. How she had once loved those dark good looks. She had fancifully seen him as having the romantic countenance of a pirate or a highwayman and had even written in her diary that he hadn’t stolen her possessions, but had taken something so much more valuable, her heart.

‘Lady Felicity,’ the man standing beside her said, once again interrupting her thoughts and once again reminding her she was not only being rude but she was letting that man distract her from her true goal, to have fun, to dance, laugh and be the one to capture a few hearts of her own.

‘I’m so sorry. What were you saying?’

‘I said, you promised me the next dance.’

‘Yes, I did, didn’t I?’ she said absent-mindedly, then smiled at Lord Thornton.

Still smiling, she looked back in the duke’s direction. The tension gripping her chest tightened up a few more notches as she watched him lead pretty Miss Simpson onto the dance floor.

‘I believe I might have to sit this dance out,’ she told the disappointed Lord Thornton. ‘Please excuse me.’

Before he could respond, she did exactly what she had promised herself she would not do when she had first seen the duke standing at the top of the stairs.

She fled, across the ballroom, out the French doors, through to the terrace and down the stairs to the garden.

Once the cool air hit her, she breathed in deeply. Hopefully, it would soon soothe her bruised pride and aching heart and she would be able to return to the ballroom, and once and for all show that man that he meant nothing to her.