Lily and the Duke (Sex and the Season #1)(8)



Amelia chuckled, shaking her head. “You are daft. He was a second son. Not even a lowly viscount. I was married to an earl. Why would I want to lower my station?”

“How charming.” Lily rolled her eyes. “Look, Amanda—”

“It’s Amelia. But I prefer to be addressed as Lady Gregory.”

“I would certainly address you as such if you were a lady.”

Lady Gregory’s face reddened. “Who do you think you are?”

“No one of any consequence.” Lily waved her hands in front of Amelia’s face. “I have no designs on the duke. You may certainly have him. Now if you’ll excuse me—”

“Just one minute.” Lady Gregory stood up in front of Lily, blocking her exit. “I can be very nasty when I don’t get what I want.”

“So can I. And right now, I want to leave this room.”

Lily pushed Lady Gregory aside and walked briskly out into the hallway. The nerve of her. She headed toward the staircase, but Lady Gregory grabbed her arm.

“You know, if I can’t have the duke, I might look around at other prospects. Your charming brother, for instance.”

“A lowly viscount?” Lily said, mocking. “Why on earth would you bother?”

“Darling, your brother is a first son, heir to one of England’s wealthiest earldoms, and he is a delectable specimen.”

Rage boiled beneath Lily’s skin. “You stay away from him.”

“Just something for you to keep in mind. I’d love to be able to call you sissy.”

Lily broke free and headed toward the ballroom. One more second and she was likely to claw Amelia’s eyes out, and over what? A case of mistaken identity and a kiss? At least she didn’t have to worry about Amelia spreading the news of her passionate embrace with Lybrook. If it ever got back to Thomas and her father, they would force Lybrook to offer for Lily, and that would ruin Amelia’s plan.

Lily took a deep breath and descended the stairs into the ornate ballroom. Her parents were on the dance floor, as was Aunt Iris. Rose was dancing with Xavier again, while Alexandra and Sophie were seated at a table with Wentworth. Thomas sat at another table with Miss Smythe. Lily ambled toward them.



* * *



Daniel entered the ballroom after having taken a brief respite in his bedchamber. He made a quick detour to the table where his mother and aunt sat and bowed to them, murmuring an apology for his tardiness. Then he walked to the refreshment table and grabbed a glass of champagne. He had never been a heavy drinker, but damned if he hadn’t imbibed more than usual in the past few days. He looked up as Victor Polk approached him.

“Lybrook, where have you been?”

“Here and there.” Daniel drained the champagne and reached for another glass.

“Steady, old boy, the night is still young.”

Daniel ignored Polk and glanced around the room. There she was, sitting with Jameson and an attractive blond girl. She was laughing heartily, moving her hands as she talked, having a good time. Had she forgotten their interlude already?

“Lybrook, aren’t you listening to me?” Polk asked.

“I’m sorry. What did you say?”

“I said Lady Gregory is in quite a dither. She’s been searching for you for the past half hour.”

“Lord.” He had forgotten about Amelia. He had no desire to see her now. Odd how one kiss could change so much. “Help me evade her, will you?”

Polk shook his head. “Count me out. I always thought you were a fool to get involved with her in the first place. She’s bad news.”

“She had her use at the time, but I can truthfully say I’m finished with her.” To his astonishment, he meant every word. “Polk, do you see that dark-haired girl sitting with Jameson?”

“Yes, that’s his sister, Lady Lily.”

“Of course, Ashford’s daughter.” The lovely young girl in the alcove. “I knew she looked familiar. I met her years ago. She was just a child.”

“She’s no longer a child, Lybrook.”

“I can see that. She’s attractive, don’t you think?”

“Attractive?” Polk chuckled. “The woman’s a goddess. Quite a little spitfire, too.”

“Spitfire? Why do you say that?”

“I sat next to her at dinner. We had some interesting conversation. She’s very opinionated.”

“Do me a favor, will you? Ask her to dance.”

“No problem. I was going to anyway.”

“No, you don’t understand,” Daniel said. “I want you to ask her to dance, and I’m going to cut in.”

“Why don’t you ask her yourself, then?”

“Because I have reason to believe she will decline my invitation. But if I cut in on you, she’ll have no choice but to dance with me.”

“Why would she turn you down? You’re a duke.”

“Let’s just say she might and leave it at that.”

“What the devil did you do to her?” Polk’s ears reddened a bit.

Damn, did his friend carry a torch for this woman?

“Nothing, nothing. Just do as I ask. Or do I have to bring up that old debt about saving your life back at Weston?”

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