“I mean, that I am still the son of a maid from Edinburgh,” he said simply with a shrug. “I may be a duke, but it’s nae enough to earn the good opinion of many men here. They ken, well enough, that ye are high above and beyond what I could hope for in a wife.”
She blinked, certain for a minute she had heard him wrong.
“You said you didn’t want to marry.”
“I dinnae, but the point still stands. So, shall we dance?” He tried to lead her onto the floor once again, but she stopped him, pulling back and anchoring her feet into the ground. “What is wrong, lass? I thought ye said ye did want to marry.”
“I do, so explain to me how dancing with a man who has no wish to marry will help me?”
“I may nae ken a lot about theton, but I ken somethin’ of men.” He lowered his voice and leaned toward her, whispering in her ear. “Men covet what other men have. It ignites a feelin’ within them, a want to feel more worthy. Dancin’ with me will certainlymake men look at ye more.” He smiled as he moved back a little, connecting their gazes again.
“Are men so simple to make jealous?” she scoffed.
“Aye.” He nodded. “Believe me. Besides, willnae the fact ye are dancin’ with a duke help? From what I can see, thetonis a competition. Many men will go a long way to prove they are better than the ruffian duke.”
Charlotte stared at him in wonder, her lips parting. He must have noticed, for he turned back to face her, scowling.
“What?” he asked, shifting his weight from foot to foot.
“It seems you have learned the ways of thetonafter all,” she pointed out. “You have been paying attention in our lessons.”
“I am payin’ ye for those lessons. Ye think I would ignore everythin’ ye have told me?”
“No, it’s just…” She chewed her lip, uncertain what to say. She knew deep down that soon their lessons would come to an end when he returned to Scotland. If he did choose to come back, he may not ask her for more lessons if he had learned everything he needed to know.
She felt strangely cold and small once again, looking out at the dancers.
“Ye nae goin’ to finish yer sentence, lass?”
“No.” She shook her head. “Let me give you another lesson.”
“I was hopin’ ye would.”
“Do not do this again,” she pleaded, meeting his gaze. “You are toying with things in thetonthat should not be toyed with.” She didn’t tell him that the thing he was actually toying with was her heart.
“As ye wish. Ye daenae have to dance with me now if ye daenae wish to.”
“I beg your pardon?” she spluttered. “If you are not actually bothered to dance with me, then why did you ask? No, why did you quite demand it by crossing out Mr. Withers’ name and replacing it with your own?”
“Ye dinnae turn me down,” he reminded her. There was something in that iciness of his glare now that reminded her of the look he had given Mr. Withers, one so cold that it had sent Mr. Withers scurrying away. “Ye let me take yer dance card and ye let me write me name with ease. Daenae think I dinnae notice that.”
“It would have been rude for me to stop you.”
“As rude as lettin’ me do it?” he countered, that iciness stronger than before.
She had nothing to say. She fidgeted restlessly, aware that his hand still rested over hers on the crook of his arm. They stood far too intimately and close together. How could she possibly dance with him now when he was putting her in such a state?
“I saw nay great affection in yer expression for that man,” the duke added coolly.
“Ah, and you think I wear my emotions on my face, do you?”
“Ye do.”
“What? I do not.” She countered, standing tall. “No lady should do. I remain impassive.”
“Ye try to.” He smiled a little now, mischievously, but that smirk just made her gut squirm all the more in anger. “Maybe ye put up walls, Charlotte. Ye try to stop people from seein’ yer true emotions, but any man who kens ye well enough will see what ye truly feel. Ye cannae help showin’ it on yer face.”
“You do not know me anywhere near as well as you seem to think you do.”
