The Black Duke's Prize Read Online Free PDF

convince him to assist
you?"
    Katherine
shrugged, her eyes on the last name on the card. The bold lettering read only
"N. Varon."

 
     
     
    4

     
     
    T he Duke of Sommesby spent only a short time up-stairs,
for the games were woefully tame, and the company even more so. Aside from
that, by filling her dance card he had in a manner put himself in the role of
Miss Ralston's host, and he wished to see how she was enjoying her evening. He
entered the ballroom again and lounged against the back wall to watch.
    At that moment
she was engaged in a country dance with the Viscount of Sheresford. Thomas
appeared to be pleased, for he smiled as he spoke. She laughed in response,
and Nicholas noted again that despite her rather haphazard manners she was
quite attractive. The silver ribbons in her long black hair glowed in the
candlelight, and the simple blue gown showed off her slim figure admirably.
    "Nick?"
    Neville Hampton
approached from the chairs lining one side of the room, and Nicholas pushed
himself upright away from the wall. "Neville," he said, shaking the
older "man's hand and wondering if he was about to be warned away from the
baron's goddaughter. Clarey had little to worry about, however, for schoolroom
misses held little interest for Nicholas.
    Instead Neville
mimed a punch. "Congratulations on the flusher you handed Francis DuPres.
Anyone knows anything about you, they know you're no cheat." Nicholas inclined
his head but said nothing, preferring to forget the entire incident and Francis
DuPres. Clarey seemed to realize this, for he nodded and stepped closer.
"Will you call on me tomorrow morning? There is something I wish to
discuss with you."
    Nicholas
nodded, somewhat surprised that the baron would seek his counsel. "I'll be
there, Neville."
    A country dance
was followed by a quadrille; he was not particularly fond of either. He watched
as Captain Reg Hillary was introduced to Miss Ralston and led her out onto the
floor. With a curse that had the women closest to him looking at him warily, he
realized that his heroic efforts to keep Miss Ralston from being the object of
scandal would fail if the Black Duke claimed her for the first and last dance
of the evening and partnered no one else in between. With a put-upon sigh at
what he was   having to go through, all
because she had called him on his actions―the ungrateful chit―he
sought out his mother. The duchess was seated again beside the Marchioness of
Belning, the two of them no doubt deep in conversation about how to trap him
into matrimony.
    "Mama,
dance with me," he said, holding out his hand. With a surprised look she
rose and allowed herself to be led out onto the floor. "A quadrille,
Nicky?" she murmured.
    He ignored her
comment, and instead spent most of the time watching Miss Ralston and Reg. Once
again she was smiling, and he noted that he was not the only one looking her
way. After the quadrille ended he escorted his mother back to her seat. The
orchestra struck up a waltz, and he spied Azalea, no, Althaea Hillary cowering
on the far side of the marchioness. Sighing again, he stopped before her.
"May I have this dance, Miss Hillary?"
    She blanched,
but the marchioness smiled at him and elbowed her daughter in the side. With a
murmured word that he assumed to be an affirmative, the girl rose. When an
opening presented itself he swept her out onto the floor.
    "Are you
having a pleasant evening, Miss Hillary?" he asked after a moment, eyeing
the top of her auburn hair, as her eyes were apparently occupied with staring
at his boots.
    She lifted her
head, nearly knocking him in the chin, and stammered something that he again
assumed to be an affirmative. There was nothing wrong with Althaea Hillary
physically; on the contrary, she was quite attractive, with long, curling
lashes and soft brown doe's eyes that young   men inclined toward such things wrote poetry about. If only she had had
the power of speech, and something to say if she could speak .he