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duke’s side. He painfully
watched as the cad’s hand slid down from the small of her back to caress her
bottom. Her eyes widened with shock, and Charles observed her polite smile as
she swatted Downsbury’s hand away.
    Fury
rushed through his veins. The duke did not deserve her.
    Then,
Downsbury leaned in and whispered something that must have revolted her.
    Emily’s
lips pursed, and she shivered. Avonlea was about to rescue the chit and ask her
for a dance, but the duke cleared his throat and raised a glass that he took
from a servant. “If I may have everyone’s attention, I would like to make a
toast.”
    The
guests surrounding him sighed and shushed the other attendees.
    “To Lady
Emily Thompson.”
    Emily
delivered a shaky smile and curtsied. Yet once everyone finished cheering, her smile
curved into frown. She slipped her hands into the folds of her gown, he
imagined to conceal their trembling.
    Time to rescue the poor girl. Hopefully, she’s had some dancing
lessons.
    Avonlea
crossed the floor and stopped before the newly engaged couple. “Your grace, my
lady.” He bowed. “I was wondering if you would mind if I stole your lovely companion
for a dance, your grace? ”
    The
duke simply slipped Emily’s hand into his. “She could use the practice, Lord
Avonlea. Go ahead, my dear, I have some plans to discuss anyway.”
    Charles
led the way to the dance floor and bowed as the musicians commenced the waltz. Her
hand rested on his upper arm, and her gaze never left his. His heart
momentarily stopped, giving him pause. Something in the air around him ignited
a passion and desire for the young woman. And to think, their dance would be short
lived.
    “Do
you want to talk about what the duke said that had you so offended?” he asked.
    “Aren’t
you the bold one this evening, my lord. Why ever do you think I was offended?
He simply made promises—albeit shocking ones—I do not think I have ever heard
spoken so publicly.”
    He
must have said something lewd, for her response left more questions than
answers. “And just what exactly did he say that was so shocking?”
    She
snorted. “My lord, you’ll forgive my impertinence when I say, that it would be
improper for me to repeat such things, let alone reveal the intimate discussion
I had with my betrothed.”
    Intimate my arse . Why, if I had to
guess, he probably scandalized her by telling her what he was going to do to
her. And now, he is surely off shagging another guest while we are dancing. Everything about the man was detestable. One could not trust a snake while it
slithered about London, much less at his own party.
    “Emily…My
lady—forgive my manners—but I am a man in every way and maybe more so than the duke
will ever be. I know the signs and the physical reactions when a person—a
woman—is repulsed at the suggestion of doing something beyond her comfort
level. What did he say?”
    Her
eyes widened, and she turned away to gaze upon others dancing around them. Some
of the guests chuckled, their attentions focused on the pair.
    “You
know, you do not have to marry him. Nathaniel will ensure you are well provided
for, until you are ready.”
    She halted
and released him the moment the music stopped. He waited for her to scold him
over his presumptions. She would not make a scene here of all places, but if
she admitted her feelings for the duke, he would let her go on about her
business and not dare to interfere. But something about this situation did not
smell right. Avonlea was a man who followed his instincts, and his skin crawled
with a sensation indicating danger was close.
    In a
time when the country’s finances were uncertain, as war had taken its toll, he trusted
his sixth sense. Emily was in danger, to put it plainly, and if she thought for
one moment the duke meant well, she was wrong. Were Charles a betting man, he would
wager his estate that Downsbury was up to something sinister.
    As
soon as Wycliffe sobered up, he had to speak