To Marry The Duke Read Online Free PDF Page B

wondered the same of her now. If so, how many? Did she have sisters or brothers? Was she the oldest? Did they look alike? Where did she get her confidence and her beauty? She certainly didn’t get her height from her mother. Perhaps her father was a tall man.
    “You dance very well,” he said at last, when she finally looked him in the eye.
    “Only because you are a strong lead, Your Grace. It’s easy to follow you.” She said nothing more, and he found it strange that she was not talking. He’d seen her converse with every other partner this evening. She had always been talking and smiling and laughing.
    “Why won’t you look at me?” he asked, eager to dispense with the gentlemanly courtesies—for he was hardly a gentleman at heart—and get straight to the point.
    Her astonished gaze darted up at him. “Most of the other ladies aren’t looking at their partners.”
    “But you’ve been looking at your partners all evening. Why not me? Do you dislike me? If so, I should at least like to know the reason—even if it is completely warranted.” He spun her around to avoid bumping into another couple.
    “I don’t dislike you. I barely know you. You simply strike me as a man who doesn’t enjoy light conversation. Beautiful turn, Your Grace.”
    “Why would you think such a thing? Do you believe yourself clever enough to judge a man by taking one look at him?”
    “You’re very direct, aren’t you?”
    “Why bother with niceties when plain speaking is so much more efficient.”
    She gave him a brief glance that told him he had surprised and challenged her, then she took a moment to consider his question. “Well, Your Grace, since we are being forthright, I will acquaint you with the fact that I have heard the London gossip—that you are called the Dangerous Duke—and I therefore feel compelled to exercise some caution with you. On the other hand, I do possess a mind of my own, and I have always been reluctant to believe every piece of idle chatter that lands before me. I wanted to decide for myself what kind of man you were, so I watched you this evening. I ascertained that you haven’t smiled once all night, except at that lovely dark-haired woman a few minutes ago—the one in the cream-and-gold dress. You don’t seem to enjoy socializing, and from what I understand, you rarely come to balls and assemblies. From that, I gather you don’t have much to talk about, or much interest in what others have to say.”
    Good God, what an answer.
    But there was more.
    “And as far as being clever enough to judge a man by taking one look at him,” she said, “let it be known, Your Grace, that I took more than one look at you. Both tonight and last night.”
    More than one look. Was she flirting, or just trying to support her superbly categorical rebuttal? Probably the latter, he thought, remembering all that she had said. Still, there was a fine line between candor and seduction, once the barriers of polite behavior were breached.
    James pulled her a little closer. “All gossip about me aside, haven’t you ever heard the old adage that still waters run deep?”
    She considered that. She seemed to always think before she spoke. “And do you believe you are like those deep, still waters, Your Grace? Hidden and unexplored?” She narrowed her eyes playfully. “Or perhaps dark and
abysmal?”
    They whirled past a statue of Cupid spouting water into a little pool. James couldn’t help smiling. He wanted to laugh! No woman had ever entertained him quite like this. “That depends. Which do you prefer?”
    For a long moment she was silent, then she laughed. An infectious, bright, American laugh. He’d managed that, at least. He spun her around again, and she followed him flawlessly.
    Sophia, trying to catch her breath, gazed up at the handsome man leading her around the floor. She felt like she was flying. Her heart rate was accelerating, and she wasn’t sure if it was the exercise—dancing and swirling