Duke of Disrepute (Dukes of Distinction #3) - Alexa Aston Page 0,66

anticipation anytime he came near. He wasn’t her first love. He would be her only love, a man she worshipped from afar. Still, he’d proven to be right. She hadn’t lacked for dance partners tonight. Everyone had been very kind and pleasant to her. Elise knew without a doubt that she would be able to find a husband. She would throw herself into her new marriage and try never to think of the Duke of Treadwell.

“My lady, I believe I am your next partner.”

She turned and saw a man just under six feet. Fair-haired with pale blue eyes. Attractive. Oozing self-confidence.

She consulted her card. “Lord Ivy?”

He laughed. “If I weren’t Ivy, I would claim to be. All to have a dance with you, Lady Ruthersby.”

Elise smiled. “Are you merely charming or are you flirting with me, Lord Ivy?’

He cocked his head. “Perhaps a little of both. Shall we?”

His offered his arm and she took it as they went to the center of the dance floor. The orchestra struck up the next song and their dance began. He was very smooth on his feet.

“What do you wish to know about me?” he asked. “I already know about you.”

She sensed her cheeks heating. “How do you know about me? We were only introduced this evening.”

“I make it my business. Especially when a beautiful woman who hasn’t been involved in the past few Seasons turns up on the arm of the Duke of Disrepute.”

“I am helping His Grace,” she said. “He seeks a wife and hasn’t always been a good judge of character. I suppose it’s hard for a duke to know if people like him for himself or merely like his title.”

“And your role in this?” Lord Ivy asked.

“Since I am a widow, His Grace believes I am more mature and I know what a good marriage should entail. I have worked on drawing up a list of eligible ladies for him to consider. He plans to be engaged by Season’s end.”

Lord Ivy frowned. “And what do you get out of this, my lady?”

“I am also considering marriage again, my lord. I lost Lord Ruthersby three years ago. My daughter needs a father. I would also like to have more children. Attending the Season is a way of meeting prospective mates, wouldn’t you say?”

“It can be.”

“Have you ever been wed, my lord?”

His eyes darkened. “No.”

Elise read people well and knew this man was hurting. “Did you lose someone you loved?” she asked.

“I did.” His jaw tightened. “It’s in my past, however.” He smiled down at her. “I am open to the prospect of finding a wife of my own. I’ve recently come into my title. My father passed away last October. It was his fondest wish that I settle down and begin a family.”

“I am sorry. I lost my own father last year.”

A light came into eyes. “Then we have sorrow in common. Might I call upon you tomorrow, Lady Ruthersby? I won’t hide the fact that I would like to get to know you better.”

She smiled. “I would very much like that, Lord Ivy.”

The music came to a halt and he escorted her from the floor. Weston waited for her, a dark scowl on his face. George stood next to him, looking tense. Samantha shrugged, indicating she hadn’t a clue what went on.

Lord Ivy released her and bowed. “Until tomorrow, Lady Ruthersby.” He glanced at Weston and then walked away.

Elise looked at Weston. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re not to see or speak to that man,” he said in his most haughty ducal tone. “Ever again.”

“Why not?” she asked.

Without answering, he took her hand and placed it on his arm. “Dance now. We’ll talk later.”

Frustration built within her. She wanted answers now, not silence.

Then the strains of a waltz began and Weston took her hand in his. His arm came about her, pulling her close. Much closer than she thought appropriate but she didn’t complain. He swept her away, their steps perfectly matched. Elise didn’t think she’d ever danced so gracefully or felt so alive. Warmth flooded her as the colors swirled by. Without her spectacles, anything beyond Weston was a blur. It almost made it seem as if only the two of them danced, in a world of their own making. Her blood rushed through her veins, pounding loudly in her ears, almost blocking the music. She felt her breasts brush against his hard, muscled chest and began to grow hot and faint.

She wanted this man. She wanted to kiss him and hold

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