Lady Be Reckless (Duke's Daughters #2)(36)

“Yes.” He started, only to realize she’d responded to what he’d said, not what he’d been thinking.

He held his arm out and she took it, placing her fingertips on his sleeve. Were they trembling?

No, his sparkling warrior queen, his Boadicea, didn’t tremble. If anything, he would hope, they were twitching with the urge to touch him again.

They walked to the dance floor, Edward praying he didn’t end up placing his substantial weight on her toes. She glanced up at him, and he stumbled, making him smother an oath and clasp the hand that was holding on to him.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I haven’t had much practice dancing.”

He straightened and kept walking, only to pause as he heard a sound coming from his right.

“Are you—are you laughing at me?” he asked in disbelief. He turned to look down into her face, noting the smiling eyes, the wide grin, and the unmistakable sound emerging from her mouth. “You are!”

She nodded, putting her hand over her mouth, her eyes still sparkling.

If only they were alone, and he could draw her into his arms and lower his mouth to hers, taking her laughter as he kissed her lips.

But they weren’t; in fact, they were at a Society party, one where nearly everyone probably looked down on him—including her—for the circumstances of his birth.

“It’s just that you are, well, you and yet there you go, fretting about your dancing ability.”

“What do you mean I am me?” How did she see him? Was he the intimidator duck, or something else entirely?

She tilted her head and placed her other hand on his sleeve so her hands were folded over one another. It felt inappropriately welcome.

“You stride about as though you know you own the world. Even though, things being what they are . . .” She bit her lip as she stopped speaking, and pink flowed into her cheeks. “That is, the circumstances of your birth might make it seem that you would behave a certain way, and yet you do not. You make certain everyone has to engage with you, no matter what, or you will dismiss them as being beneath you. Rightly, I would add.” She nodded firmly to emphasize her words.

He felt his mouth drop open as a flood of emotions flowed through him. That she hadn’t hesitated to speak the truth, even though it was awkward; well, that he already knew, but he never failed to be impressed that she was so bold, so persevering. That she recognized how he approached the world, facing it head-on rather than cowering; only Bennett had ever seen that before. And that she admired him for being who he was, even though he wasn’t someone to be admired, at least according to the rules of Society.

God, he wanted to kiss her even more now.

“And then you are so adorable to admit that you cannot dance, or at least dance well, and it is so endearing for someone like you to admit to foibles.”

Well, now he did not want to kiss her at all. “Adorable?” he said in a growl. “You think I’m adorable?” Of all the things he wished to be seen as—a formidable athlete, a fine judge of horseflesh, an excellent businessman, a gentleman whose birth did not impede his life—he had never wished to be seen as adorable. “And endearing?” he added in an incredulous tone.

“Yes,” she replied, smiling as though she knew just how outraged he was. She probably did.

“Let me show you how adorable I am,” he muttered, taking her arm and leading her to the dance floor, trying to ignore her laughter as they walked.



Olivia preened to herself as they walked onto the dance floor, Edward’s ire positively reverberating through his entire body. In complimenting him, she had inadvertently made him forget—for a moment—who Society thought he was, which was why he was at this party. She had made him remember, she thought, who he truly was. An intelligent, thoughtful, proud man who apparently did not like being called adorable.

His face when she’d said the word! She would cherish the memory of that shocked expression for a long time.

And now they were on the dance floor, and it was a waltz, because of course it was, and his hand was in hers, his other hand at the small of her back, and the music had started, and she forgot everything but the music and him.

“You’re not that bad a dancer,” she said after a few moments of silence.

“Shh, I’m counting,” he replied in a quick tone. “And now I’ve—”

At which point he trod on her foot.

It didn’t hurt that much, just stung a little, since he’d really just stepped on her smallest toe, and had quickly leapt off before she could even register the pain. They weren’t dancing any longer, but he still held her in the waltz position, which was not as close as they had been the night before.

Much to her chagrin.

“Are you all right?” He sounded genuinely concerned, and she felt herself melt a little inside. Adorable, indeed.

“I am fine, you barely touched it.” To prove her point, she gave a nod and started to move again, squeezing his hand to get him to continue the dance.

“One, two, three, one, two, three,” she counted as he followed her lead.

“No talking,” he ordered. “I can’t concentrate if you talk.”

She pressed her lips together to show her acquiescence and shot a glance at him that she knew spoke louder than whatever words she could say now: You truly are adorable, and of course I’ll stop speaking, you silly man, only I won’t stop wanting to laugh.