Kenneth’s lips curled into a reassuring smile. “I am glad to hear it, Your Grace,” he said, his voice warm and sincere. “Despite his recent mood, the Duke is quite fond of you.”
“Is he?” she inquired.
Kenneth nodded, his eyes filled with conviction. “He is,” he confirmed. “He may not always show it, but he cares for you deeply.”
Genevieve’s heart fluttered again.
I need to keep telling myself that I have not lost him yet. Is there still a chance for us to recapture the happiness we have created?
Genevieve looked up at Kenneth, her heart a little lighter at his words. His easy smile and warm demeanor were a balm against the sharp barbs of the other women.
“I thank you for saying so, Lord Gaverton,” she replied softly. “It… it means more to me than you know.”
Kenneth’s brow lifted playfully. “Well, we can’t have you looking so downcast, Your Grace, not when there is a perfectly good orchestra playing.”
Before she could respond, Kenneth extended his hand, his voice light and teasing.
“Come now, Duchess. If His Grace is not here to dance with you, then it falls upon me to step in. Let us scandalize the ton, shall we?”
Chapter Twenty-Two
“You wish to dance with me?” Genevieve asked hesitantly.
She blinked in surprise, glancing nervously around at the clusters of onlookers who still seemed to follow her every move.
Kenneth’s grin widened, his tone turning mock-serious. “Oh no,youhave mistaken me, Your Grace. I am asking you to save me. You see, if I stand here any longer, I am liable to fall prey to one of those ladies.”
He tilted his head meaningfully toward the gaggle of women who had just tormented Genevieve, and she couldn’t help the quiet laugh that escaped her lips.
“Very well,” she replied, placing her hand delicately in his. “But I warn you, my dancing skills are not nearly as scandalous as my reputation.”
“Ah, a pity,” Kenneth said with exaggerated disappointment, leading her toward the dance floor. “I was hoping for something truly shocking—perhaps a spin that defies all propriety.”
Genevieve smiled, a genuine one this time, as the orchestra struck up the opening notes of a waltz. Kenneth’s confidence and wit seemed to sweep away her earlier humiliation, and she let herself be guided into position.
The moment Kenneth’s hand settled at her waist, his other clasping hers, she felt the steady strength in his movements.
“Calm, Your Grace,” he murmured, guiding her effortlessly into the first turn. “I have yet to drop a partner, and I have no intention of starting with you.”
Genevieve’s laughter bubbled up again, quiet but real, as Kenneth steered her expertly across the floor.
He was an excellent dancer, confident and fluid in his movements, which allowed her to focus on nothing but the music and the steps.
“You are far too charming for your own good, Lord Gaverton,” she teased lightly. “I imagine you leave a trail of broken hearts wherever you go.”
Kenneth’s grin turned self-deprecating. “I do try, though hearts are far easier to manage than vengeful dukes.”
Genevieve tilted her head, curiosity piqued. “Vengeful dukes?”
He twirled her effortlessly, his smile softening just slightly as his voice dropped to a murmur.
“You know, of course, to whom I am referring?” he arched an eyebrow.
Genevieve merely nodded.
“Well, I know His Grace has not been himself lately, no?”
Genevieve faltered slightly in her step, though Kenneth’s firm hand steadied her. “You have noticed, then?”
