How to Fool a Duke (The Husband Dilemma #1) - Lancaster, Mary Page 0,18
adulation from the people very real for the fine woman standing at his side. Once the noise settled, she stepped forward.
“Thank you all for attending the art exhibition. I am proud to say that every piece sold. As you know, Whitmore is sui generis, there is no other place like it in England. We welcome all, great and small, accomplished or not, in hope that everyone can find happiness in an era of turbulence and war.”
The crowd broke into applause again.
Lady Whitmore raised her hand to silence them.
“We certainly welcome new friends.” She turned to the duke. “I believe His Grace, the Duke of Vexen, will have a substantial role in the future of Whitmore.”
Leonard smiled, only a bit uncomfortable with the attention. If it were London, he would have walked off the stage. He truly disliked attention of any kind, but for some reason, this felt right.
“And now, Sir Roger will happily announce our winners. Please join us for dinner, after.”
Once his prizes were announced, including the sculpture that reminded him of Sarah when he first met her and three paintings, he joined Lady Whitmore, her companion, and Mr. James again.
“You see,” Lady Whitmore said, “it was well worth coming here, was it not?” She moved aside, giving Leonard a clear view of the entrance to the assembly rooms.
Dressed in a gown the shimmering color of moonlight, her hair swept up, revealing lovely shoulders and a neck meant for kissing, Sarah, elegant and almost understated, stepped into the room. A diamond and gold necklace adorned her throat, and Leonard’s heart thundered with desire—perilous and uncontainable. His hand actually shook with need as he let his arms fall to his sides, his penetrating gaze undressing her layer by layer.
Mr. James tapped him on the back and whispered, “Your intentions are showing, sir.”
Perhaps he should just rip his heart out now and offer it to her. For no matter what he did at this point, he wanted her.
***
Unfortunately, Sarah did not have the pleasure of being seated next to the Duke of Vexen at dinner. However, he was within sight and did not hide his interest in her, nor look away whenever their gazes met.
She had been placed between a young lord, the Earl of Trenton, and an elderly widow, Lady Billows. The conversation, just as the food, was pleasant and diverting.
“Your singing capabilities have been praised by many here this evening, Miss Sarah,” the earl said to her, not hiding his attraction but doing so within the boundaries of respectability. “If your voice is as lovely as you are, I am sure you will be a marvelous success.”
Sarah smiled and sipped her wine, already nervous. Her performance was only two hours away, and the butterflies in her stomach only increased. “I could not say, my lord, but hope my devotion to training with Signor Arcadi will be rewarded with his approval tonight.”
“What a charming young woman you are,” Lady Billows said. “Showing confidence in your accomplishments is not considered vanity, my dear.”
Sarah turned to her with a smile. “Thank you, Lady Billows. Are you fond of music?”
“I am a patron of the arts, much like our esteemed guest of honor, the Duke of Vexen. Not to mention Lady Whitmore’s dedication to charitable events is unmatched from here to London.”
“You are close friends with our hostess, then?” Sarah asked.
“I am indeed. We are old friends, used to spend summers together…” She suddenly stopped herself. “You must excuse me. I have said too much already.”
“Too much?”
“Of course the rules would be unknown to you, this is your first event at Whitmore, is it not?”
“Yes, it is.”
“Those invited to the events are permitted to use their full names,” the earl said, drawing her attention back to him. “But Lady Whitmore’s students, whether highborn or not, are to remain anonymous. That is why we haven’t questioned you about your name or family.”
“I knew this, but did not think it extended to the guests quite so severely.”
“How else would our hostess reach such levels of respectability and success?” Lady Billows asked. “All of the ton are not welcome here, as some would never be able to keep quiet about what goes on. Even the gossip sheets have failed to infiltrate Whitmore.”
Sarah swallowed down her building concern that her family, the duke, or possibly even one of the guests present would deduce who she was and why she had come here. Reaching for a dessert fork, she tasted the lemon tart, which melted in her mouth.