Charles watched, mouth agape, as Lady Caufield pulled Isabella across the room. Isabella's eyes were round, pleading with him to save her. He took a step to follow them just as a strong hand wrapped around his arm. He pivoted around to find the culprit. Lady Wiling.
"Your grace, I must insist you have a turn around the floor with my lovely Alberta."
Charles held in a sigh. Alberta Wiling was not lovely in any remote way of thinking. However, the rules of the ton did not give an innocent duke a good excuse to refuse.
"Of course, Lady Wiling. It would be my great pleasure." Charles followed Lady Wiling, willing his feet to not turn the other direction and flee. As they skirted the edge of the ballroom floor, Charles briefly closed his eyes. This was precisely the reason he avoided social functions. The last thing he wanted was to dance with another woman. All he wanted was Isabella.
"Here's my lovely daughter. Isn't she stunning?"
Charles squelched a gasp. The poor girl was positively hideous, from her unfortunate choice of mustard-yellow dress to her severe overbite. Her crossed eyes were just an unpleasant bonus. "Yes, indeed. Quite… stunning."
Being a gentleman of the first order, he bowed and extended his hand. Lady Alberta jumped up, obviously ecstatic to have someone of the male species ask her to dance. In her exuberance, she hopped toward Charles, flapping her arms about, resembling a cross-eyed goldfinch in flight. It was all Charles could do to hold his ground, even when both feet were crushed simultaneously by said goldfinch.
Charles tried to ignore his throbbing toes and once again extended his hand. This time Lady Alberta, slightly calmer now, took his hand. She glanced at him, then away. When other young women would have giggled coquettishly, what emerged from Alberta was more of a cackle.
The hair on the back of Charles' neck stood on end, sending a current of surprise and embarrassment running down his back. He darted a glance around them and saw several people covering their mouths politely with their gloved hands, trying to ward off ill-timed laugher. Sighing, Charles led Alberta out on the ballroom dance floor just as the music began to play. He'd observed her dancing with other partners at previous balls and knew of her abilities. She danced as Charles imagined one of his horses might if given the opportunity. However, the horses would be much more graceful.
Charles spotted Isabella by peering over his dance partner's head, made difficult because of the huge orange feather in her hair. Isabella appeared to be smiling, yet Charles noticed she gritted her teeth. Then he saw the reason. Lord Stanchbach, Lady Caufield's nephew, was bowing before Isabella, trying to take her hand for a kiss. The man was known for his whistle, and not from his mouth. As far as Charles knew, Lord Stanchbach was the only man in the ton with that particular nostril talent.
As Charles circled around the floor with Alberta, who dragged two dance steps behind, he watched Isabella. She was being led onto the ballroom floor. Charles inwardly cursed. The fact her first public dance would not be with him was a crime against his heart. Just then, Isabella lifted her gaze, which found his. She gave a small shrug, tilted her head slightly toward her dance partner, and took a deep breath. Charles had practiced with her as much as possible for tonight, but they had only had so much time in which to do it.
He watched closely. Her feet performed the correct dance steps at the correct time. Good girl. Her hands were in the proper position in reference to her partner. Although it galled Charles to not be the one holding her, he was quite proud of her. She was doing beautifully. And as far as who her partner happened to be at the moment, Charles planned to take the man's place as soon as politely possible.
Chapter Seven
Isabella counted the dance steps in her head, trying not to trip, while nodding at the appropriate times to her dance partner's boring conversation. On top of his tediousness, the man had a whistle. And not from his mouth! If Izzy hadn't been trying so hard to concentrate on not falling, it might have been funny. Lord Stanchbach laughed, which, unfortunately, Izzy already knew preceded a nose whistle. She held her breath. Wait for it…
Whrr.
Izzy inwardly groaned. How was she supposed to act interested in a boring, nose-whistling dance partner when all she wanted to do was be with Charles? She'd imagined their first dance together here at the ball, him holding her in his strong arms as they glided around the polished floor. Others would nod and smile at them, admiring how perfectly paired they were. It would have been her first actual dance outside of Charles' den.
Whrr.
She held back a pout at her dilemma and focused again on counting dance steps. No use making a further spectacle of herself than she already had. Her appearance here with Charles and her accent accomplished it by themselves. She had no wish to embarrass him further.