To Capture a Duke's Heart (8 page)

A moment later his dark eyebrows drew together in a dramatic fashion, his expression reflecting a growing sense of unease. 

Stifling a giggle, Penny widened her eyes as if struck with an epiphany.  “I’ve got it.”

Lord Ashcroft eyed her expectantly, his features brightening instantly.

Penny gazed up at him with another simpering smile, fluttering her eyelashes profusely.   “My lord, please forgive me for speaking so boldly, but I simply must tell you that you have the most beautifully shaped ears that I have ever seen.”

Lord Ashcroft stared at her in silence for one seemingly endless moment and then promptly burst out laughing.   “Ah, Lady Penelope, you are an absolute delight,” he proclaimed, once he’d contained his mirth.

“I assure you, my lord, that the feeling is most definitely mutual,” she replied with a grin.

Watching from across the room as his brother twirled Penelope Houghton across the dance floor, the pair smiling and laughing as if they were utterly enamored with one another, Gabriel experienced a sharp stab of emotion that was becoming entirely too familiar.  For a man who could have well-nigh any woman he wanted, and bloody well had for that matter, he struggled to make sense of it.  For considering that he had never felt more than a moderate degree of interest in a woman romantically speaking, it was damnably disconcerting.  What was it about her, he wondered in growing consternation that had him acting so completely out of character? 

Following her with his eyes as the music faded, he continued to watch her as Rafael escorted her from the floor.  She was beautiful,
yes
, but so were a lot of women.  She was intelligent,
certainly
and decidedly unique; but none of those things seemed reason enough for her to have piqued his interest to such an extraordinary degree nor to have incited something so utterly foreign to his nature as jealousy. So what was it then? 

He had scarce little time to ponder it further, however, as his brother, having left Penelope at her father’s side, joined him where he stood just a short while later.

“You and Lady Penelope appeared to be enjoying yourselves,” he commented as Rafael approached, striving to keep his tone indifferent.

“Don’t worry yourself, old man,” Rafael stated with a wink, “she’s only interested in my ears.” 

Giving his head a slight shake, Gabriel knew that he couldn’t possibly have heard his brother correctly.  “Excuse me?” 

Puffing out his chest with exaggerated pride, Rafael’s mouth split into a wide grin.  “Told me I have the most beautifully shaped ears she’s ever seen.”

Gabriel stared at his brother in utter bewilderment. 

“Now that I think about it they are rather nice-looking, especially my lobes.”  Rafael raised his hand and rubbed his left earlobe between his thumb and forefinger.

Gabriel regarded his brother incomprehensibly for several more seconds before finally asking, “Have you gone completely daft?”

“Perhaps that’s why so many women like to nibble on them,” he mused, ignoring his brother’s question.

“Nibble on what?” Michael asked as he came up behind them.

“My earlobes.”

Gabriel emitted a wearied sigh and rolled his eyes upward to the host of cherubs frolicking upon the painted ceiling.

“I’ve recently learned that my ears are quite appealing to the fairer sex,” Rafael informed his twin.

Michael nary missed a beat as his eyes went directly to his brother’s ears, angling his head first to the left and then to the right as if he were giving serious consideration to the ridiculous notion.  “I never noticed it before, but I have to admit they are rather nice,” he ultimately agreed, his expression deadpan, “and ideally proportioned in relation to the size of your head.”

“Oh for God’s sake,” Gabriel muttered in exasperation, eyeing both Michael and Rafael in disgust.  And with that he turned and walked away, mumbling to himself about the injustice of having been saddled with a pair of imbeciles for brothers.

“So, would you mind telling me what that was all about?” Michael inquired with an amused grin, once Gabriel was no longer within earshot.

Rafael chuckled.  “Just giving His Grace a little nudge.”

“In any particular direction?” he asked.  “And
what
, pray tell, do your
ears
have to do with it?”

Smiling, Rafael clapped his brother on the shoulder.  “Come along Michael, let’s have a drink and I’ll tell you all about it.”

As the night progressed Penny was growing increasingly anxious, for as she returned from a brief visit to the lady’s retiring room she could see that the orchestra was preparing for the next set and first waltz of the evening and the Duke of Ainsworth had yet to approach her for the dance he’d requested.  Only slightly comforting was the knowledge that he hadn’t danced with any of the other young ladies in attendance either, only stepping onto the dance floor once in fact, with their hostess, Lady Gilchrist.   Hesitating then just beyond the threshold, she scanned the room, searching for the duke’s commanding figure.

She took a few more steps into the room, her eyes still searching when she spotted one of Eleanor’s cousins, Mr. Fitzgerald, moving purposefully in her direction.  Oh drat, she thought in dismay, for while Mr. Fitzgerald was a pleasant enough fellow he seemed to have only two interests in life, sheep and sheep farming.  As such, during their last conversation she had been subjected to a rather lengthy account of the North Country Cheviot’s most notable characteristics, as well as the breed’s superiority in comparison to the Devon Longwolled variety of wool-producing sheep.  Even so, she resisted the urge to turn and flee back to the safety of the retiring room and instead affixed a polite smile upon her face as she prepared herself to receive another lesson in sheep rearing.

Thus it came as quite a surprise when Mr. Fitzgerald suddenly halted his forward progress in seeming midstride.  Surprising her even further, he politely tipped his head and then promptly turned away, hastening in the opposite direction.  How very odd, she thought, watching curiously as he disappeared back into the milling crowd.

“If I’m not mistaken, I believe the orchestra is cuing up for a waltz.”

Hearing the quietly spoken statement over her shoulder, Penny spun around and came face to face with the very person she had been searching for just moments ago.  “Your Grace,” she uttered, her stomach doing a crazy little flip flop at the sight of him.  Goodness, wherever had he come from, she wondered?

“Lady Penelope,” he greeted with an engaging smile.  “You’re enjoying the night’s entertainment, I hope?”

“Indeed,” she replied a tad breathlessly.  “It’s been a wonderful evening thus far.”

“I’m delighted to hear it,” he responded warmly.   “If you are amenable, I was hoping you might honor the promise you made at breakfast, though I suppose I probably should ascertain if all of your toes are still intact before I officially request the next dance.”

Penny blinked.  “My toes?”

“I saw you dancing with the Marquess of Farleigh before the intermission,” he clarified.  “The man’s a jolly good fellow,” he continued in a hushed tone, “but notorious for having two left feet.”

“Ah.”  Penny nodded as understanding dawned.  “It was thoughtful of you to inquire, Your Grace, but you needn’t worry,” she assured him with a lighthearted expression, “for my toes are as yet unscathed.”

“Well that’s a relief,” he replied with a surprisingly earnest expression, “as I would have been exceedingly disappointed to have lost my opportunity to partner you on the dance floor.”

“As would I, Your Grace,” Penny professed, offering him a shy smile in return.

Would you do me the honor then?” He raised his hand, motioning toward the dance floor.

“Yes, of course.”  To Penny it felt as if a kaleidoscope of butterflies had suddenly taken flight within her stomach, for this was the moment she’d been waiting for all evening.  Her very first waltz and ‘twas to be with the Duke of Ainsworth of all people, she mused in silent wonder, scarcely able to believe her good fortune.  Placing her fingers within the crook of his elbow, she followed him onto the dance floor, her heart beating wildly within her chest.

“I must confess that this is to be my first official waltz,” she informed him with another shy smile.

“Well I shall consider myself the most fortunate of gentlemen then, for it is said that a lady never forgets her first waltz
or
the gentleman who partnered her.”

“In that case, Your Grace, I can assure you that I consider myself most fortunate as well,” she replied softly, knowing with absolute certainty that each and every second of the next several minutes would be emblazoned upon her memory for all of eternity. 

The unexpected artlessness of her reply, combined with the subtle hint of desire he saw reflected in the depths of her eyes as she gazed up at him, caused the breath to catch momentarily within Gabriel’s throat.   He recovered himself quickly, however, as they took their place amongst the other couples gathered on the dance floor and within seconds the air within his chest was moving freely once again.  Even so, he could hardly discount the singularity of his reaction, for whilst he had garnered literally hundreds of similar, desirous gazes throughout his lifetime, none had ever affected him quite like that.

As Penny and the duke assumed their positions, she felt another one of those exhilarating little tremors run along her spine as she placed her hand upon his broad shoulder, just as he settled his at her waist.  Good gracious, but the man sent her senses reeling in the most delightful way, she thought in silent wonder. 

With scant inches now separating them, Gabriel took Penelope’s other hand within his; and as the musicians took up their instruments and the beginning strains of Josef Lanner’s
Mille Fleurs
filled the room, he guided her into the steps of the lilting Viennese waltz.

To Penny it felt as if she were floating on air, the soles of her satin dancing slippers nary touching the parquet flooring beneath her feet. For while it was true that the marquess hadn’t been the most graceful of partners, in comparison to the sheer effortlessness of the duke’s movements as he spun her about the floor, one would think she had been dancing with a lumbering ox just a short time before.  Even her dancing master hadn’t moved with such inherent grace, nor had he evoked anything even remotely similar to the wild, dizzying pleasure she experienced as the duke held her in his arms, her eyes riveted upon his handsome countenance.

She knew that she was staring, but Heaven help her she couldn’t seem to tear her gaze from the beautifully sculpted planes of his face or the captivating depths of his extraordinary green eyes, eyes that seemed to beckon her like the lure of a siren’s song.

Looking upon Penelope’s upturned face as she gazed at him through wide, adoring eyes, Gabriel felt an unmistakable rush of desire course throughout his body, much as he’d experienced the night before; and without conscious thought his fingers tightened just a fraction upon her waist, drawing her another inch closer as they moved in seamless harmony to the music’s languid tempo.  Holding her thus, with his fingers curved around her narrow waistline and her long, slender neck, smooth, rounded shoulders and lush, milky-white bosom mere inches from his pressed white shirtfront, he drew in a slow, deep breath as the fragrance he’d noted during the recital swirled around him, the delicious scent even more intoxicating than he remembered. And irrational as the notion was, he wanted nothing more in that moment than to sweep the beguiling miss up into his arms, carry her from the ballroom, deposit her into his bed and strip that pretty lavender gown from her delectable body. 

Unfortunately, however, carting the Earl of Beckford’s innocent young daughter off to his bed in the midst of the Cunningham’s affair was hardly an option.  Thus, with a determined effort he did his best to redirect his nefarious thoughts.  “I hope, Lady Penelope,” he began, breaking the silence between them, “that you are enjoying your first waltz?”

Willing herself to stop staring at the duke like a silly, besotted peagoose, Penny forced herself to blink as he awaited her reply.  “Indeed, Your Grace, I am enjoying it immensely,” she declared with a gracious smile; though in all honesty to say that she was enjoying it immensely
was nothing short of a gross understatement.  In fact,
immeasurably, infinitely or incalculably
would serve as a far more accurate assessment, for truly it felt as if she were in the midst of a dream.

“I’m glad,” Gabriel responded, returning her smile with one of his own.   

“It’s such a beautiful dance; it’s a shame it took so long to gain acceptance in Society.”

Gabriel nodded.  “I couldn’t agree more.  Although, despite its now favorable reception, you might be surprised to know that there are still a handful of Society matrons who consider the waltz to be quite decadent and staunchly refuse to allow it to be performed within their ballrooms.”

“Truly?”  Considering the effect the duke’s proximity was having upon her already heightened senses, she supposed it
was
rather decadent, albeit delightfully so. 

“Oh yes,” he assured her. “You needn’t fear, however,” he continued with an encouraging smile, “as I am entirely certain that for you this will be only the first of many waltzes to come as there are far more ballrooms in London that allow it than not; and once you make your debut the gentlemen are sure to keep your dance card filled.” Hell, he mused, with the combination of Penelope Houghton’s extraordinary beauty, youthful innocence and budding sensuality, the Town’s eligible young bucks would likely be bowling one another over to secure a spot on her card.