The Duke of Morewether’s Secret by Amylynn Bright Page B

in a determined line. How she managed to avoid his toes, she had no idea. They were nearly out of the turn before she stumbled. They had been traveling quickly, and Thea thought maybe she would finally get the hang of dancing, but then her heel caught. She swallowed a shriek and grabbed at Christian’s jacket with both hands. Miraculously he caught her before they both tumbled to the floor. She met his eyes only to find him wearing the same expression of wide-eyed surprise. Giggles burbled in her throat.
    “Oh dear Lord.” Christian made an effort to suppress his own laughter. “You’re an absolutely awful dancer.” He yanked them both upright and managed to get back in line with the other swirling couples.
    “I told you.”
    “I know, but I thought you were teasing. You’re really dreadful.”
    Thea couldn’t defend herself. She was too busy laughing and counting her steps in order to avoid another disaster.
    “Let’s get out of here before someone is maimed.” He pulled her off the dance floor and out the terrace door.

Chapter Six
    She was still laughing even as Christian guided her from the safety of the balcony out into the treacherous, scandal-infested sculptured lawn.
    She said she couldn’t dance. Christ, that was an understatement.
    Less a tactical retreat and more a bid for self preservation, he’d seen the terrace door as salvation. His moment of triumph in getting the stubborn and elusive Greek to dance had turned into a circus, and her humiliation was entirely his fault. By rights, she should be furious with him. He would understand if she was livid, but, surprisingly, she wasn’t and he couldn’t begin to understand why not.
    Her laughter was infectious, though. The full, throaty sound rolled over him, and he found himself joining in with her, regardless of the humiliation of only minutes before. In his mind, he was already thinking of ways to stop a hemorrhage of gossip. He may be a good-natured scamp or, as more of the ton probably thought of him, a wolfish rogue, but he was a sheep in wolf’s clothing. He was rigid in protecting his family from gossip, and this incident would be handled with his usual proficiency.
    But Thea didn’t seem to be allowing any of this to bother her. Perhaps, she didn’t understand the full magnitude of what she was up against?
    Christian made a serious effort to stop laughing. “I don’t think you understand how bad that was in there.”
    That only made her laugh harder. “Surely you’re jesting, Your Grace. I begged you not to make me go through with it. I knew exactly what would happen.”
    Even understanding the depth of the situation, Christian couldn’t suppress his smile. “I thought you were exaggerating.”
    “Maybe you did.” Thea shook her head and looked to the heavens. “But what I really think is you thought you could be the one to make me dance like a ballerina.”
    Christian ducked his head, sheepish. “Perhaps.”
    “I had you figured from the beginning. How much did you win?”
    “Win? What do you mean?”
    Thea ran her hand along a low hedge and ruffled the leaves with her gloved palm. “You don’t recall the wager that set your plan in motion?” Her voice was filled with skepticism.
    “Oh right, the wager.” How could he have forgotten the wager?
    “Mmmmm.” She nodded clearly not believing he’d forgotten. “You’ll be giving your ill-gotten gains to Lady Dalton’s charity, won’t you?”
    “If that will make you happy, then most certainly.”
    Thea smiled at him, apparently forgiven.
    “I can’t believe you’re laughing.”
    “It’s either that or cry. Make no mistake — I’m mortified, but I’ll get over it. I imagine the crowd will chalk it all up to the uncultured interloper.” Thea shook her head and grimaced. “I’ll wager my problem of coming up with excuses for why I can’t dance is over.” Unbelievably, she chuckled again.
    “You’re not angry with me then?”
    Thea turned her head towards him,