Loved by a Duke (The Heart of a Duke #4)(13)

She stitched her eyebrows together into a single line “I beg your pardon?”

“A curtsy, my lady.” He motioned to her legs. That impolite gesture one more freedom permitted him as duke. “A general expression practiced upon a polite greeting.” He paused, drawing out the moment. “And you’re forgiven.”

Daisy opened her mouth to likely deliver a stinging rebuke to singe his ears and he blinked once, confounding her into silence. She scratched at her furrowed brow. Had she truly believed he’d forgotten the secret, unspoken language only they had shared? His was an unwillingness to use it, but he remembered everything and anything where Daisy was concerned. She’d been the sister he’d never had.

Then she gave a flounce of her brown curls, that familiar twinkle lighting her eyes. “Ah, yes, the curtsy.” She tapped her fingers against the front of her forehead. “How could I ever forget, the ever important curtsy usually preceded by a polite bow.” He’d have to be without hearing to fail to note the heavy sarcasm underscoring her subtle admonishment. She’d always possessed an indomitable spirit, his Daisy. He remembered her earlier claim to being a wallflower. How odd that not a single English gentleman had the good sense to appreciate the lady. Fools, all of them.

Which reminded him of his own purpose in being here this evening. With no little reluctance, he set aside the easy exchange with her and redirected his attention back to the ballroom floor, renewing his quest for a duchess.

Daisy cleared her throat.

Surely it was not such a difficult task to find an adequate duchess.

She coughed.

There certainly was no shortage of woman clamoring for the revered role.

Daisy coughed again.

With the exception of Lady Stanhope, who’d thrown him over for the Earl of—

“I said, ‘ahem’.”

For the love of all that was holy. “Is there something in your throat, madam?” From the corner of his eye he detected the slight tilt of her head. “Perhaps you should have punch, or champagne, or a bit of wine to clear whatever affliction bothers you.”

“I was not apologizing.”

He stared unblinking at her.

“Earlier,” she went on to explain. “For the lack of curtsy. That wasn’t an apology. I just thought you should know that, Your Grace.”

Ah, she was “Your Gracing” him. She always did that when she was displeased with him. Even when he’d been a mere marquess. Had she always been this vexing? The chords of the waltz drew to a close and the collection of dancers upon the floor politely clapped. Then, arm in arm, the couples filed off the dance floor. Yes, yes he remembered now that she had been. And mischievous. And prone to prattling on which she’d since managed to cease. Auric took a sip of champagne.

“I gather you’re looking for your duchess.”

He choked.

The gold flecks in Daisy’s eyes danced with amusement and she made to pat him on the back.

“Do not,” he squeezed out.

She sighed. “Oh, you used to be so much more fun than this cold, curt, and crusty duke.” Daisy waggled her eyebrows. “Well, then?”

Do not indulge her. “Well, what?” he gritted out, because he’d never been able to not indulge her. Not since she’d been a small girl with too many freckles and not since she’d grown into this woman with…well, still too many freckles.

“Who is she?”

Auric stole a glance about to gather whether or not some hopeful miss had heard those dangerous words uttered by the hoyden at his side. “Remember yourself, Daisy.” He gave her a quelling look. This was a dangerous game that really was no game at all, she played in public. His interest in the now wedded Lady Stanhope had only encouraged the matchmaking mamas and scheming title-hunters.

Daisy pointed her eyes to the ceiling. “Bah, you sound like my mother.”

And because he’d known the marchioness since he’d been a squalling babe in the nursery, he knew precisely what she meant by that, and it was in no way a compliment.

Only the lady forgot he knew her as well as she knew him. “And I gather you’re in the market for a husband.” Her cheeks pinkened and she immediately clamped her full lips closed. Hmm. So this is all it would have taken to silence her. Except now, he eyed her with a renewed interest. This was interesting. The Daisy he did know, however, never did something as telling as blush. “Ah, come now, Daisy, are you shy all of a sudden? I would wager there is a certain gentleman who has captured your notice.” Her color deepened a ripe red, swallowing up her freckles.

“Er, if you’ll excuse me. My mama is motioning to me.”

Auric stepped into her path, blocking her escape. “You can’t know that.”

“Of course I should know that.” She bristled her shoulders with indignation. “She is, after all, my mother.”

“Yes,” He leaned down and murmured close to her ear. “But she also happens to be positioned behind you.”

Daisy whipped around and found the marchioness and then swung her attention back to him. “Oh.” If her cheeks turned any redder, they would catch fire.

“Yes. Oh.” In spite of himself, Auric grinned. He’d forgotten what it was to tease and be teased. Granted this teasing business was a good deal more enjoyable when it was he that was doing the teasing and not being teased.