Time for a Duke



"All right, Isabella, we shall try again." Charles held in a sigh, trying his best to not roll his eyes. He knew she wasn't being difficult, that her desire was to help him by accompanying him to the ball, but she didn't seem to be getting the dance steps. They didn't have much time for her to learn and perfect them. As much as he loved having her dance close to him, it threw off the steps of the dance. If they danced at the ball as they were now, tongues would surely wag. He gently moved her away from him. Again.

Isabella peered up at him. "I'm sorry, Charles. I told you I was inept."

"Not inept, just…" He widened his eyes. What in the world was he thinking? Had he just uttered those words out loud? To her?

She opened her brown eyes wide. "Just what?"

He felt his face heat up. Surely it was red by now. "I, you see…"

She took a half step closer to him. "Clumsy?"

"I…"

"Awkward?" She nudged the side of his boot with hers.

"You…" He glanced at the ceiling, hoping for some helpful words to materialize on his tongue.

"Ungraceful? Hmm? What do you say to that, Charles?"

"Well…" Charles glanced down, relieved to see Isabella's smirk. His breath whooshed out all at once, as he willed his heartbeat back to its normal rhythm.

Isabella tapped her fingers on his shirtfront, causing an electric current to race down toward his stomach. "Don't worry, Charles. I'm only teasing. I know I'm not graceful."

Charles wrapped her fingers with his. "I'm so relieved. I thought—"

"What? That I'd be upset?"

"Yes, well, you see most women I've met—"

Her eyes sparkled in the pale light from the candle sitting on a side table. "I'm not 'most women'."

"I'm beginning to understand that." Yes, indeed. There had never been another woman who had caused such emotions in him, whom he could converse with on an intellectual level. Why could she not have been from his town? His time?

Charles pulled one arm around her waist and kept a respectable distance while his other hand held hers. He kept the steps slow and measured, trying to help her get the rhythm first before quickening the pace.

While Isabella gazed at their boots, she bumped into Charles. Again. He stopped to rub yet another sore spot on his chin. The woman had a hard head in more ways than one. He sighed. "Let's try this."

She glanced up. "What?"

"Keep looking into my eyes."

"But then I can't look at my—"

He nodded. "Exactly. You're thinking too much. Just feel."

Isabella shrugged her shoulders and nodded. "I guess I can't do any worse than I already am, right?"

Charles wasn't so sure about that. In his mind's eye, he pictured them tangling arms and legs, losing their balance and falling in a heap to the floor. Not that it would be all bad. There were a few activities he could think of if it happened. Nodding again in answer to her question, he peered into her eyes. He didn't know how she considered him, but he could stare at her face for a century.

"Um, Charles?"

"Yes?" Her nearness was intoxicating. He tightened his grip on her as his thoughts drifted to ravishing her lips with his.

"We aren't moving."

What? Oh… He raised his eyebrows. "Yes, well… keep looking at me, right in my eyes, and follow my lead. Lean when I lean. Step back when I step forward and let me lead you. All right?"

She nodded. "I'll try."

Isabella kept her eyes on his. Dark, long lashes surrounded her lovely brown eyes. A small nose begged to be touched. Sensuous, pink lips, slightly parted, beckoned for his attention. Charles leaned his head closer.

"We're doing it!" she shrieked.

He gasped. "I beg your pardon?"

"Dancing. We're dancing."

Charles glanced down at their steps. They were dancing. He laughed. "There. I knew you could do it."

"Well, I wasn't sure. But, isn't this fun?" In her excitement, she stepped closer, brushing against him.

Charles' breath caught in his throat. A warm sensation in his stomach caused tightness in his trousers. Good heavens, what am I doing? He stepped away. "I think we've accomplished quite a lot today. With the dance."

"You don't want to dance anymore?"

More than you know, Isabella. "For now, let's take a rest from dancing. How about some refreshment? I need to learn more about you."

She touched the area right above her collarbone. "About me?"

"For the ton. They'll have many probing questions, and you and I will need to—"

"Be on the same page?"

Charles raised his eyebrows. "Page? I—"

She laughed. "It means, be thinking and doing the same thing."

He grinned. "Yes. On the same page, then."

"Okay."

He took her hand, leading her toward the couch. Once Isabella was seated, he opened the door and softly called down the hall for Sarah. After giving the maid instructions for food and drink, he returned to Isabella and sat next to her.

She angled toward him, fanning herself with her hand. "What should we talk about?"

He pointed toward her hand. "One item would be that."

She glanced down and frowned. "What?"

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