Time for a Duke (7 page)

****

Charles kept his hand over Isabella's, which rested on his forearm. He felt her trembling. As he angled his head down in the vicinity of her ear, he whispered, "Fear not, Isabella, things will be fine. Remember, I am a duke. Dukes garner respect from the
ton
."

Isabella's lips curved upward, making Charles shiver, but for quite different reasons. Yes, he loved showing her off to the
ton
, but would rather be alone with her, as in the carriage on their way to the ball.

"Let's introduce you to Lord and Lady Kringle, as they are our hosts for the ball."

"All right, Charles — I mean, your grace."

Charles felt his own lips curve. "Well done, Lady Isabella." He gave her fingers a squeeze as they approached Lord and Lady Kringle. While he kept a steadying hold on Isabella's hand, he guided her toward the couple.

"Lord and Lady Kringle, may I present Lady Isabella Hodgkin."

Lady Kringle tilted her head. "How lovely to meet you, Lady Isabella."

Isabella performed a shallow curtsy. "The pleasure is mine, Lady Kringle."

Lord Kringle raised his bushy eyebrows. "You are most welcome in our home, Lady Isabella." Switching his gaze from Isabella to Charles, he lowered his voice. "Your grace, do I detect a certain…" The lord seemed to think better of his words and cast his gaze somewhere in the vicinity of Charles left ear.

"My lord, you do indeed detect an accent far from our own. Lady Isabella is from America." He held up a finger before the other man could react. "She is visiting relatives. Surely you're familiar with Lord Edward Hodgkin, Viscount of Stonebrooke Manor?" Charles held his breath. He knew the lord would not contradict him in public. How he chose to speculate in private was another matter. Would he pass along Charles' version of the truth?

Lord Kringle blinked and then nodded. "Of course, your grace, of course. I've had the pleasure of making Lord Edward Hodgkin's acquaintance on many occasions. Fine fellow. Good family."

Charles bit his lip to hold in a snort. Being a duke did have its advantages. He could say the sky was purple and lord and ladies would flock to admire it.

Lady Kringle nodded at Charles and Isabella. "Please enjoy your evening at the ball."

Isabella let out a deep breath after politely thanking Lady Kringle.

As they walked away, Charles leaned close to Isabella. "You were wonderful. I knew you could do it."

She whispered back, "Thank you. But it looks as if we have a ways to go." She tilted her head, indicating the direction of the far wall. Charles glanced in that direction and noticed everyone staring at them.

He chuckled. "It's just as I expected. The
ton
are nosier than Henrietta."

Isabella giggled. "Is that so?"

"It is." He inclined his head toward the curious crowd. "Shall we?"

Isabella raised her chin. "If we must."

Charles gave her a grin, hoping to encourage her. This was the moment they'd both been anticipating. The
ton
could be cruel. He just hoped they took mercy on Isabella, or at least kept their venom to themselves until later. They approached the first group, who resembled cats staring through the window of a fish market.

"Lady Cordelia Coltrane, may I introduce Lady Isabella Hodgkin."

Lady Cordelia tilted her head as if she were royalty. Her lips formed a barely-disguised smirk. "A pleasure to meet you, Lady Isabella."

Isabella took a step closer. "And you as well, Lady Cordelia."

A collective gasp rushed through the crowd. Charles knew it was because of Isabella's accent. He forced a smile he didn't feel. "Lady Isabella is from America. She's visiting relatives here in England."

Several whispers floated upon the air.

"
Did he say America?
"

"
Americans are scoundrels.
"

"
They
'
ve infiltrated our war with France.
"

Charles angled his head toward Isabella, knowing she heard the rude whispers as well. She cast her glance at the floor briefly before raising it back to the members of the
ton
. Isabella straightened her back. How proud he was of her at that moment. Most he had known would have crumbled or taken a step back at least. But not his Isabella.
His? Was she?
If only it were so.

Charles took a slight step to the left, guiding Isabella to follow. "Lord Harmon Stratton, may I present Lady Isabella Hodgkin."

Isabella held out her hand. "Lord Stratton, I'm pleased to make your acquaintance."

"And I you, Lady Isabella." He leaned forward, took her hand, and placed a light kiss on the back of her glove. When he straightened, he darted a gaze to his left. Charles noticed Lord Stratton's wife squeeze her husband's arm none too gently.
What have we here?

Charles then pivoted toward her. "Lady Theodora Stratton, may I present Lady Isabella Hodgkin." He watched the woman carefully to see her reaction to Isabella. She narrowed her eyes, pursing her lips as if chewing a lemon. Envy? Of Isabella?

Lady Stratton tilted her head. "Lady Isabella, what a pleasure to meet you."

"And you as well, Lady Stratton."

Charles and Isabella continued down the line until she'd been introduced to them all. He glanced at Isabella, making sure she was holding up under the pressure. Her eyes appeared glazed and her hands trembled. She'd had enough for the moment. Charles took her hand and leaned close. "Isabella, how about some refreshment?"

The expression she gave him was that of a shipwrecked sailor having been rescued on the day he'd eaten his final morsel. "Thank you, Ch-your grace. That would be lovely."

Murmurs followed them as they moved toward the refreshment tables.

"
She
'
s American, did you hear?
"

"
He referred to her as Lady.

"
Have you met her family?
"

Charles handed her a drink and found them places to sit. "Are you all right?"

She nodded. "Yes. It was brutal, though. You weren't kidding about the… well, you know."

"Yes, I do know. You were wonderful."

"Thank you, your grace."

Charles saw something out of the corner of his eye. After looking up to see what it was, he angled his head toward Isabella and lowered his voice to a whisper.

"Lady Caulfield is fast approaching. She's a busybody of the first order and will stop at nothing to find out who you are and where you—"

"Your grace!"

Charles stood and bowed, taking the older woman's hand. "Lady Caulfield, how delightful to see you." He placed a light kiss on her glove.

"Why thank you, your grace. But enough about us, who is this beautiful creature with you?"

Charles pivoted toward Isabella, making sure she alone could see him. Rolling his eyes, he reached for her hand and helped her stand. Isabella bit her lip, seemingly holding back a grin.

"Lady Caufield, may I introduce Lady Isabella Hodgkin?"

"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lady Isabella. And might I add, you are a beautiful young woman."

Charles glanced at Isabella, who was blushing. She glanced back toward Charles before answering.

"Thank you, Lady Caufield, it's a pleasure to meet you as well."

The older woman held out her hand to Isabella, who, after a slight hesitation held hers out, too.

"Lady Isabella, I must steal you away for a while. I'm sure his grace won't mind."

Charles watched, mouth agape, as Lady Caufield pulled Isabella across the room. Isabella's eyes were round, pleading with him to save her. He took a step to follow them just as a strong hand wrapped around his arm. He pivoted around to find the culprit. Lady Wiling.

"Your grace, I must insist you have a turn around the floor with my lovely Alberta."

Charles held in a sigh. Alberta Wiling was not lovely in any remote way of thinking. However, the rules of the
ton
did not give an innocent duke a good excuse to refuse.

"Of course, Lady Wiling. It would be my great pleasure." Charles followed Lady Wiling, willing his feet to not turn the other direction and flee. As they skirted the edge of the ballroom floor, Charles briefly closed his eyes. This was precisely the reason he avoided social functions. The last thing he wanted was to dance with another woman. All he wanted was Isabella.

"Here's my lovely daughter. Isn't she stunning?"

Charles squelched a gasp. The poor girl was positively hideous, from her unfortunate choice of mustard-yellow dress to her severe overbite. Her crossed eyes were just an unpleasant bonus. "Yes, indeed. Quite… stunning."

Being a gentleman of the first order, he bowed and extended his hand. Lady Alberta jumped up, obviously ecstatic to have someone of the male species ask her to dance. In her exuberance, she hopped toward Charles, flapping her arms about, resembling a cross-eyed goldfinch in flight. It was all Charles could do to hold his ground, even when both feet were crushed simultaneously by said goldfinch.

Charles tried to ignore his throbbing toes and once again extended his hand. This time Lady Alberta, slightly calmer now, took his hand. She glanced at him, then away. When other young women would have giggled coquettishly, what emerged from Alberta was more of a cackle.

The hair on the back of Charles' neck stood on end, sending a current of surprise and embarrassment running down his back. He darted a glance around them and saw several people covering their mouths politely with their gloved hands, trying to ward off ill-timed laugher. Sighing, Charles led Alberta out on the ballroom dance floor just as the music began to play. He'd observed her dancing with other partners at previous balls and knew of her abilities. She danced as Charles imagined one of his horses might if given the opportunity. However, the horses would be much more graceful.

Charles spotted Isabella by peering over his dance partner's head, made difficult because of the huge orange feather in her hair. Isabella appeared to be smiling, yet Charles noticed she gritted her teeth. Then he saw the reason. Lord Stanchbach, Lady Caufield's nephew, was bowing before Isabella, trying to take her hand for a kiss. The man was known for his whistle, and not from his mouth. As far as Charles knew, Lord Stanchbach was the only man in the
ton
with that particular nostril talent.

As Charles circled around the floor with Alberta, who dragged two dance steps behind, he watched Isabella. She was being led onto the ballroom floor. Charles inwardly cursed. The fact her first public dance would not be with him was a crime against his heart. Just then, Isabella lifted her gaze, which found his. She gave a small shrug, tilted her head slightly toward her dance partner, and took a deep breath. Charles had practiced with her as much as possible for tonight, but they had only had so much time in which to do it.

He watched closely. Her feet performed the correct dance steps at the correct time.
Good girl
. Her hands were in the proper position in reference to her partner. Although it galled Charles to not be the one holding her, he was quite proud of her. She was doing beautifully. And as far as who her partner happened to be at the moment, Charles planned to take the man's place as soon as politely possible.