The Duke’s Darling Debutante by Maggie Dallen

13

Luke watched Tabetha from the other side of the room.

He noted the moment she realized what he’d done, and he chuckled to himself. Tabetha was nothing if not resourceful and so he’d needed a drastic plan in order to ensure he and Tabetha were able to speak this evening.

After all, he’d witnessed firsthand how she’d feigned an injury to throw off their last dance. Granted that one had been for his benefit but tonight she had entirely different reasons. She’d been running scared when she’d hidden behind that fern and she was likely to do it again.

Luke had no intention of allowing that.

Tabetha’s heart was lovely and wonderful, the exact kind he’d been missing. But after he’d spoken to Clarissa, several points had become clear.

Part of the reason she’d been able to so easily throw him off with her rejection was that—aside from being a duke— he’d wondered what he might bring to her.

He didn’t ride, at least not currently. He’d never had a loving family to teach him of such emotions. He didn’t even participate much in society so he could hardly help her learn how to operate amongst them. But yesterday, he’d realized what he contributed.

Tabetha led life with her heart. A fact that he loved.

But he used his head. And together, they were in perfect balance.

The last strains of the music were dying out and he knew who had claimed the next dance on Tabetha’s dance card. And the dance after that. And the dance after that.

He grinned again to think of it.

Oh, it was going to cause quite the scene.

And by the time he was done, everyone at this ball would understand what a lovesick fool he was, and Luke was all right with that. In fact, he was delighted. Because Tabetha would understand too.

And she’d know that he’d sacrificed his own pride to express his feelings. A fact he couldn’t be more delighted with considering what the reward would be. Tabetha’s hand, and with any luck, her heart.

Luke started across the ballroom, never taking his gaze off Tabetha.

Claremont joined her, two cups in his hand. He shoved one at Tabetha, who barely looked at the beverage, her gaze still cast down as she worried her lip.

His smile spread wider.

The drone of Claremont’s voice rose over the din as he neared Tabetha and her sister. “And the captain said, the only thing that rivals my skill on the field is my horsemanship. Do you ride?”

Tabetha’s gaze flitted to the other man and Luke experienced a moment of air-stealing jealousy. It rose in his throat hot and thick.

What if Clarissa was wrong and she didn’t bear an affection for him? What if Claremont was just a better choice for Tabetha?

If that were true…

He sucked in a breath. If that were true, he’d step aside and leave her be. His own feelings not withstanding, he wished for Tabetha to be happy.

Her gaze lifted to Claremont. “What?”

Claremont’s gaze narrowed. “Do you ride?”

“Ride? Oh. Yes. I ride.” And then her gaze cast down to the card on her wrist again.

Luke stopped for a moment. That was it? No story? No declaration about how she preferred riding astride? No story about stealing her brother’s breeches?

He drew in a deep cleansing breath, every muscle relaxing. Because he and Clarissa had been right after all. A giddy joy bubbled inside him, and his feet felt light as he closed the distance between them. “My lady,” he murmured low. Everyone heard him anyway. “I believe this dance is mine.”

“Yours?” Claremont asked, his breath coming out in a whiny huff. “When did you have an opportunity to claim—”

But Claremont suddenly lurched forward, his words ending abruptly as he struggled to keep his feet under him.

Luke’s gaze flicked just behind Claremont where Clarissa stood, her lips pressed together and her chin notched innocently at the ceiling. “I beg your pardon,” she said as she clasped her hands.

Luke didn’t wait for a better moment. Holding out his elbow, he ignored Mrs. Claremont’s glare as Tabetha slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow.

And then he whisked her away toward the dance floor.

The first strains of the waltz began, and he took her in his arms, not saying a word. They had all night to talk. This dance was just about holding her close.

For the first minute, her movements were stiff, and her face lined with tension. But after a short while, she relaxed into him, and they glided across the floor.

He wished he could pull her outside for a private conversation. Tell her everything in his heart. But that wouldn’t do. Not tonight.

So instead, they danced. And though neither spoke, Luke tried to tell her without words, everything that was in his heart.

He didn’t know if she understood. At least not until the first song ended. A sea of dancers began to leave the floor. She started to follow, but he held firm.

Her eyes widened. “Luke,” she whispered, leaning closer. “What are you doing?”

“I’m claiming my dance,” he said as his brows lifted, his voice calm.

“Oh, but…” Her voice tapered off. “But even I know…” She tried again. “We can’t.”

He chuckled. “I assure you, we can. It’s easy enough.”

She shook her head, giving a halfhearted attempt to pull away. “But what will people say?”

He gave an unconcerned shrug. “Likely that I am smitten.”

She squeaked. The sound, both adorable and amusing, caught the notice of the dancers passing by them. Her cheeks grew increasingly pink as she looked about. “Oh, but…”

He knew what her counter arguments might be. Any more than two dances, and he’d be declaring his intentions. And filling her entire dance card? It just wasn’t done. “I had the most enlightening conversation with Clarissa yesterday.”

He hadn’t thought her eyes could grow any wider. “What?”

He nodded. “Yes. And she and I were wondering if perhaps you were volunteering to marry Claremont in order to save me.”

“Your Grace,” she said, her voice trembling. “I’m afraid I don’t feel quite myself.”

His gaze narrowed. “If you truly don’t feel well, I shall escort you to a chair at once. But if you only mean to save me from an awkward conversation, I beg you to allow me to finish.”

“I mean to save you,” she whispered leaning closer. “From embarrassment.”

His heart melted. “In that case, don’t.”

“Don’t?”

He shook his head. “It’s high time I let myself be exposed to it.”

Her lips parted as she stared at him. “But you don’t like to be exposed to it.”

He laughed. “I love that you understand that. But this time, it is my turn to suffer and you, my dear, should bask in the reward of being so completely entrancing that you have turned a duke to jelly in your bowl.”

“Jelly in my bowl?” Her nose wrinkled. “Is that an actual saying?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know.”

But then her face softened again. “Entrancing?”

“Completely.”

“Luke,” she said then, and her chest fluttered as she drew in a breath. “Please don’t tease me. I’m trying so hard to do the right thing and—”

“Tabetha,” he said as the music began again. A leaping waltz. “The right thing is to allow me to literally and figuratively sweep you off your feet.”

He saw it then. A tear glimmering in the corner of her eye. “I want to. So much. It’s just that… well you see… oh drat…”

He spun her about and then, hands on her waist, lifted her high up above him. Exactly where she belonged.

“What?” he asked as he set her lightly on her feet.

“I could never do anything that I thought might hurt you and I’m afraid marrying me isn’t in your best interest.”

There it was. The exact affirmation he’d wished to hear. He’d suspected as much but to hear her say the words made emotion rise up, filling him with a light and airy feeling. “How could marrying the woman I love be anything but what was best for me?”

She coughed then. A choking sound that had his feet slowing, worry creasing his brow. “Tabetha?”

“I want to kiss you,” she whispered. “I want to kiss you so much and I am trying with every fiber of my being to do what is socially acceptable rather than what my heart demands.”

He was certain his grin was lopsided as he stared down at her. “See. You’re already learning the rules. But as it stands, what do you say we adjourn to the garden?”

“Wait,” she tightened her hand in his. “There is something I need to say first.”

He stopped, his brows drawing together. For just a moment, he worried that she might still reject his suit. But then with a beaming smile, she raised up on tiptoe and said close to his ear. “I love you too.”

It was only then that he realized several of the dancers had paused around them, stopping to watch their conversation.

“Does that mean you’ll accept my proposal?”

She notched her chin playfully. “You do know that you haven’t actually asked.”

His mouth fell open for a second as he realized she was correct. “Lady Tabetha Rutland, will you do me the great honor of becoming my wife?”

He knew that at least twenty people stared at them and a hush fell over the crowd as they all waited for her answer.

She only kept him waiting for a second but somehow, it felt like an eternity. Finally, she announced, her voice ringing through the ballroom. “Yes!”

A cheer rose up around them.

He should have been embarrassed but he’d never been happier in his life. As the music swelled, he lifted her again, spinning her about. Then, with his chin high, he announced to the crowd at large. “She said yes.”

Then he lifted and spun her again. He loved this woman with all his heart. The heart that Tabetha had taught him to use. He might be the luckiest man in all of England. Mayhap, the world.

Setting her down on her feet, they began to dance again. She’d stay in his arms the rest of the night and the rest of his life.

Forever.