I Was Mocked For Being Single At Forty — Then The Most Desired Duke Asked Me To Waltz
Part 2
I felt the crushing weight of a hundred stunned gazes burning into my skin.
My breath hitched in my throat as I stared at the outstretched hand of the Duke of Ravenswood.
“Your Grace,” I managed to whisper, my voice barely audible above the swelling music.
I took a tiny step backward, my spine pressing against the cold marble pillar.
“I fear you have mistaken me for someone else.”
He did not lower his hand or break my gaze.
“I am not in the habit of making mistakes, Miss Pendleton,” he replied.
The faintest suggestion of a smile played at the corners of his mouth.
“The waltz awaits us.”
He took a deliberate step closer, closing the distance between my shadowed corner and the glaring light.
“Will you do me the honor?”
Twenty years of ingrained social conditioning urged me to immediately decline.
I knew I had to spare us both the inevitable, vicious whispers that would follow.
Yet something in his unwavering, intense gaze completely dismantled my resolve.
I slowly placed my gloved hand into his waiting palm.
“The honor is mine, Your Grace,” I replied.
As he led me out onto the polished floor, the whispers erupted around us like a swarm of agitated bees.
The Duke of Ravenswood, who had ruthlessly declined to dance with the season’s most celebrated beauties, was leading me into a waltz.
“You realize, of course, that you have just scandalized this entire assembly,” I murmured as we took our positions.
“Have I?” he replied, seeming genuinely unconcerned as his large hand settled firmly at my waist.
“I was under the distinct impression I was merely dancing with the most interesting woman in the room.”
The music swelled, and I found myself swept into the sweeping dance with a grace I had not experienced in years.
He led with confident, dominant precision, his steps perfectly matched to my own.
He created the breathtaking illusion that we had danced together countless times before.
“You dance beautifully, Miss Pendleton,” he observed softly.
“Practice, Your Grace,” I replied, keeping my eyes focused on his broad shoulder.
“Though I confess it has been quite some time since I was last invited to waltz.”
He tightened his hold on my waist just a fraction.
“Then the gentlemen of the ton have demonstrated a remarkable lack of basic judgment.”
I could not help but let out a soft, genuine laugh.
The sound drew even more shocked stares from the swirling couples around us.
“You are either exceedingly kind or deliberately provocative, Your Grace.”
I finally met his gray eyes.
“I have yet to determine which.”
“Perhaps both,” he conceded smoothly, guiding me through a complex turn with effortless skill.
He studied my face, ignoring the glittering spectacle of the ballroom entirely.
“Tell me, Miss Pendleton, do you actually enjoy these tedious affairs?”
“They serve their required purpose,” I answered diplomatically.
“That is not what I asked.”
The directness of his gaze completely unsettled me.
It had been years since anyone had looked at me with such focused, undivided attention.
“No,” I admitted finally, the truth slipping out before I could stop it.
“I find them rather exhausting, but one must always maintain appearances.”
“Indeed,” he murmured.
For a fleeting moment, I glimpsed a profound shadow of understanding in his expression.
It suggested he too wore a heavy mask strictly for society’s benefit.
As the final notes of the waltz faded into the cavernous ceiling, the Duke formally escorted me back to the edge of the floor.
Before taking his formal leave, he bent slightly, his lips brushing near my ear.
“Thank you for the dance, Miss Pendleton.”
He straightened his posture, his eyes locking onto mine one last time.
“It was without question the highlight of an otherwise unbearable evening.”
Then he was gone, moving through the parting crowd with that peculiar combination of absolute authority and cold detachment.
He left me entirely alone to face the approaching tide of desperate, curious acquaintances.
Could this simply be a cruel, calculated game to amuse a bored aristocrat, or did the most powerful man in England truly see something in me that the rest of the world had ignored?
