Page 13 of To Dare a Duke

“There you are,” said the baron, his cheerful booming voice heard clearly over the sound of the orchestra. “My favourite young lady.”

Prue stammered something in reply, she wasn’t entirely sure what, too focused on the glowering figure standing a few paces behind the baron.

Looming.

Well, naturally he loomed. That’s what villains did. The only question was, why was he looming at her? Her stomach twisted.

“My nephew desired my company,” said the baron, forcing her to turn her attention from the looming duke and back to him. “And it’s so long since we had any time together. Oh, but where are my manners? Bedwin, please may I present, Miss Chuffington-Smythe.”

Oh, good heavens. He was introducing them!

Prue froze. It was one thing writing about a villain, a despicable man you’d never met and felt no desire to meet. Quite another to stare him in the face. Her breath was coming hard and fast now, and she felt a little light-headed. Belatedly, she realised she was staring. Pull yourself together, she commanded herself.

She’d done this. She’d known the risks and she’d taken them. This duke had made his own decisions too, and here they both stood.

Prue doubted he was as black as he was painted, but he’d never tried to refute the gossip, so she could only assume he enjoyed his notoriety. Well, he might not be entirely black, and she might not be entirely white. That seemed fair. Stiffening her spine, Prue ducked an awkward curtsey. At least she hadn’t fainted.

“Your grace.”

He murmured a polite, if unenthusiastic greeting, and Prue wondered once more what on earth was going on. Then the baron began making his excuses to leave them alone and Prue was thrown into a panic. Going on the undisguised horror in the duke’s eyes, he was of the same mind.

Before Prue could figure a way of making the man stay, he’d leaned in and whispered in her ear.

“Give him a chance, my dear. For an old man’s sake.”

Prue stared at the baron, thinking she must have misheard him, but there was nothing she could do or say to protest. She was alone with the Damned Duke, and she had to make the best of it.

The two of them stared at each other, and she knew he was just as aware as she was of the hundreds of eyes upon them, glassy with fascination, watching to see what happened next.

The duke’s jaw tightened, his severe features growing harder. He hated this, she realised. That was a surprise; she’d always believed he revelled in his infamy.

Wait.

This was a stroke of luck. If he’d meant to expose her, he would have done so, which meant he didn’t know.

He didn’t know!

Prue’s heart skipped a little as she wondered if she were brave enough, but… what better way to get into the head of her own Damned Duke, to understand him, to draw his character, flesh out his motivations, than via the man himself?

It was a golden opportunity.

She could explore the character of this dark, complex man. This was first-hand research of the kind that did not come along every day. She would not waste the chance by being too shy to converse with him.

“I hope you didn’t make a mistake?” she ventured, daring to speak to the glowering figure opposite her.

“A mistake?” he repeated, his frown deepening as his angular, dark brows drew together.

Lord, but he looked sinister when he did that. Prue suppressed an odd prickling shiver which was not entirely fear.

“Well, I can’t help supposing it was my cousin to whom you wished for an introduction. She’s the beauty in the family.”

Those green eyes watched her, and she felt a little like a specimen in a jar. Prue cleared her throat.

“Miss Minerva Butler,” she ploughed on, gesturing to the other side of the room, where Minerva was dancing with a besotted looking young man and staring daggers at Prue.

The duke’s gaze followed her direction, settling on the vivacious blonde, whose expression instantly settled into something shy and appealing, which was somehow subtly flirtatious at the same time. Goodness, Minerva was good at that. Prue couldn’t have pulled off such a look if she practised it in the mirror daily for a decade.

She turned back to look at Bedwin, who gave an almost imperceptible shudder and turned away. Prue blinked in astonishment.