Page 40 of If the Duke Demands

Guilt darkened his brother’s face, and his eyes widened as he realized what he’d done. “Oh Lord,” he admitted in a low voice, “I completely forgot. I’d talked Diana into spending a few minutes out here on the terrace and…” He blew out a harsh breath and rubbed his hand at the nape of his neck. “Is the sprite furious at me?”

“She’s not asprite, Robert,” Sebastian bit out, unleashing the anger that Miranda was too kind to show toward his brother. “She’s a grown woman. And you didn’t make her furious. You hurt her, both her pride and her heart.”

At least Robert had the decency to look ashamed. “I lost track of time. I didn’t—”

“What thehellwere you thinking, to sneak off with another woman when you were supposed to be attending to Miranda this evening?”

Robert stared at him, stunned into silence. Sebastian’s anger was out of character for him, but his younger brother also knew not to argue back, having lost too many fights to him while they were growing up. And tonight, Sebastian knew, Robert wouldn’t stand a chance. Something about this damnable evening had him on edge, wound tight as a coiled spring, and just one wrong word from Robert, just one more unkindness to Miranda—

“If youeverembarrass her like that again,” he threatened, “you’ll answer to me. Understand?”

Robert nodded slowly, bewilderment on his face at Sebastian’s behavior. “My apologies,” he said soberly. “Won’t happen again.”

He unclenched his fists. “Make certain you claim her second waltz.”

Robert’s brows drew together, puzzled. “But it’s already taken.”

“Then take it away from the man!” he growled, spinning on his heel to storm back inside. Good Lord, he needed a drink, and none of that watery Madeira, either. He’d take an ax and chop into St James’s private liquor cabinet himself if he had to—

“It’s you, Seb,” Robert called out after him. “She told me when I asked her for a dance. You’re the man who offered for her second waltz.”

He halted in mid-stride. For a single heartbeat, he hesitated, torn between the irrational desire for a second waltz with Miranda and the prudence of knowing better.Damnation, how much he wanted another dance with her. Another chance to hold her in his arms and laugh with her, another few minutes of precious reprieve from the stiff propriety of being a duke when he could simply be himself.

But Miranda wanted Robert. And he’d promised to help her.

“Take it,” he snapped out and stormed away.

***

Miranda moved across the dance floor with Robert for her second—and last—waltz of the evening.

Knowing Sebastian had already claimed the dance from her, she’d expected him to come for her again, and truly, she’d been looking forward to another dance with him. She’d enjoyed the first waltz, far more than she’d thought possible. And the flirting lesson. That it wasSebastianof all men who had encouraged her to flirt with him—oh, she nearly laughed in astonishment at that! Since the season began, Sebastian had proven to be one surprise after another.

Instead, it was Robert who came for her while Sebastian claimed the waltz with Lady Jane that he had been denied earlier. For a heartbeat, she felt an unfathomable pang of disappointment that Robert wasn’t Sebastian.

“I’m sorry, Miranda,” Robert apologized with a squeeze of her fingers in his as he twirled her around the floor. “Your first waltz should have been with me, and I regret missing it with you.”

Her belly tightened. Robert was apologizing, trulyapologizing, and she should have been ecstatic that he’d cared enough about her feelings to regret the slight. Instead, though, all she felt was vaguely peeved at herself that she’d made such a small impression on him tonight that he’d so easily forget about her. Was Sebastian right—was it time that she considered giving up her hopes for Robert?

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” she whispered, because he expected it, and turned her face away to gaze out across the room.

Dancing with Robert was nothing like she’d imagined. Oh, it was a lovely waltz, and Robert was skilled in his steps, guiding her competently around the floor. But he simply wasn’t as naturally graceful as Sebastian had been, as if they had moved together as one rather than the two separate dancers she and Robert were. There was also none of the casual teasing she’d experienced with Sebastian, nothing to put her at ease.

And certainly none of the flirting.

She didn’t even attempt it with Robert. Because for all the tutoring that Sebastian gave her about how to catch a man’s attention, he’d left unspoken what she knew to be the most important part—that a woman could only successfully flirt with a man who welcomed her flirtations. And during the past few weeks Robert had proven himself most unwelcoming to seeing her as a woman with whom he might flirt.

Miranda’s heart sank. Even as she followed his lead, she blinked back the sting of the unshed tears and kept her smile firmly in place—the same one Sebastian had assured her was so pretty. Her heart was breaking, but she wouldn’t let anyone see, including Robert. Andespeciallynot Sebastian.

Even now as Robert danced with her, his eyes strayed across the room to Diana Morgan, who kept looking back at him without trying to seem as if she were. Which was laughable, because on the other side of the dance floor Lady Jane kept looking at Sebastian, who kept watching Miranda and Robert instead of Lady Jane.

And Miranda simply didn’t know where to look.

CHAPTEREIGHT

Two Frustrating Days Later

Sebastian frowned, unable to concentrate on the opera. Even the opening night performance ofThe Magic Flutecouldn’t hold his attention.