Loved by a Duke (The Heart of a Duke #4)(17)

“My, how very formal you are.” He wagged a blond eyebrow. “Should I expect you to begin prattling on about what fine weather we’ve been enjoying?”

She inclined her head and donned her most proper-hostess expression. “Splendid spring weather we’re having, wouldn’t you say, my lord?” Thunder rumbled and shook the foundations of the elegant townhouse, as though in appreciation of her wry attempt at humor.

He chuckled. “Indeed.” Then Marcus did a quick, detached up and down of her person. “You look lovely as usual.”

She snorted. “It seems you’ve grown into one of those compliment spouting, polite gentleman.”

His grin widened, and then a mask of seriousness replaced his earlier mirth. “How are you, Daisy?” He searched her face with his blue gaze.

She pasted a smile to her lips. “I’m well.”

Marcus cleared his throat. “I should have come around.”

She waved a hand. “It is fine.” It hadn’t been for very many years. Eventually, she’d learned to breathe again, and laugh again, on her own without the support of those who’d mattered to Lionel.

He shook his head. “It’s not.”

They seemed to realize as one that he still held her hand. Daisy yanked her fingers back. Not one to attract frequent notice, it still wouldn’t do for her to be seen holding a gentleman’s hand overly long, even if it was just Marcus. The ton didn’t care how long a lady knew a respectable gentleman or the familial connections shared but rather the juicy morsel of gossip they might represent to the haute ton. She smoothed her palms over her skirts and returned her attention to the ballroom floor.

“Did you just dismiss me, Daisy?” he drawled and gone was the somber figure of a man, in his place, the notorious rogue.

“Er…no.” Though she could certainly see how it appeared that way.

Marcus stood shoulder to shoulder beside her, and then with a deliberate slowness, folded his arms across his chest.

She stole a sideways peek up at him. His gaze remained fixed on the crowded dance floor. “What are you doing?”

His lips pulled up at the corners. “Trying to gather just who has earned your attention.”

Heat burned her cheeks and she jerked her attention back to the neat rows of clapping dancers.

“Ah, you won’t tell me, then?”

No, she would not. She clamped her lips into a tight, determined line. She’d sooner pluck each too-curly strand of hair from her head than ever acknowledge to him, Auric, or anyone that the sole gentleman whose attention she longed for was, in fact, the proper Duke of Crawford.

“I take that as a no,” Marcus murmured.

She gave a firm nod. “That is a no.”

He pounced faster than Cook’s cat on the kitchen mice. “Which means there is some certain gentleman who has ensnared your attention.”

She pointed her eyes to the ceiling. “I didn’t say that, Marcus.” He was worse than Lady Jersey with her desire for gossip.

“You didn’t need to.”

The repartee, the teasing, but hard, protective edge underscoring his words seemed so very similar to her brother’s vexing treatment that her heart tugged with the pained reminder and, for a moment, she forgot that she sought to bury the truth from him, forgot she’d gone and fallen in love with a gentleman who seemed to have forgotten she even existed.

Then Marcus pulled her back from her musings. “Who is he, Daisy?”

The orchestra’s tune reached a lively crescendo and the stomping feet and clapping hands threatened to drown out his words. She cupped a hand around her ear. “What was that you said?” Daisy shook her head. “I could not hear you,” she mouthed.

He folded his hands around his mouth. “I said—”

And when it seemed he’d shout his suspicions before a room full of witnesses, she mouthed, “Don’t you dare.”

Marcus blinked in feigned innocence. “But you indicated you were unable to hear…”

She swatted him with her dance card. “Oh, do hush. You know I was being deliberately difficult to match your deliberate difficultness.”

They shared a smile. A companionable silence descended as they stared back out at the ballroom floor. “So you’ll not tell me.” From the corner of her eye, she detected the hard, determined set of his jaw. “Very well. I’ll be forced to guess,” he said, his sudden concern at odds with the indifferent, young boy and then man, she’d known through the years. Even as a friend to her late brother, hers and Marcus’ relationship had never been a close one. Unlike her relationship with the duke, who, if he’d seen her as bothersome had certainly never indicated such sentiments. If he had, mayhap she’d not have thought of him with such fondness through the years “Is he present this evening?”

In spite of herself, she located Auric with her gaze. His large hand intertwined with Lady Leticia, they made quite the striking couple. “Hmm?” She gritted her teeth in annoyance, detesting the image presented to Society. Nothing plump or freckled about Lady Leticia.

“Daisy?”

She started at Marcus’ gentle prodding and gave her head a shake. “No. I’ll not tell you.”

He sighed. “You’ll force me to guess the unworthy blighter’s identity.”