The Duke's Quandary by Callie Hutton Page A

spectacles into her reticule and took a deep breath.
    “For heaven’s sake, Drake, what were you doing? You almost shoved me into the wall.” Abigail tugged on her gloves and threw him a sharp look.
    “Sorry. I, ah, well, it doesn’t matter. I do apologize.” He straightened his cravat, and looked around. “Well, then. I guess we’re ready to depart.”
    The duchess herded the girls toward the door. Drake extended his arm to his mother, where she placed her fingers, and moved forward.
    Thankfully, without assistance, Penelope made it to the carriage with no further mishaps and settled next to Abigail, across from Sarah and Sybil. The duchess and Mary rode in another carriage with Drake. Only too glad to be away from his disturbing presence, Penelope settled back into the soft leather and contemplated the evening ahead.
    If she couldn’t even get down the stairs without a misstep, how would she get through an entire night where she would be expected to dance? Although, once she replayed the scene in her mind, it seemed Drake was the one who had caused the entire episode. Odd, that. She probably wouldn’t have stumbled if he hadn’t grabbed for her.
    She laid her delicately painted ivory fan on her lap and thought of the evening ahead. The familiar knot of fear took up residence in her stomach. Oh, to be on her way back from this cursed ball, instead of heading to it. The other girls were chatty and excited, and Penelope felt as if she would likely toss up her accounts.
    “You’ll do fine, Penelope. Don’t be concerned. Just relax and enjoy yourself.” Sybil reached across the distance, and patted Penelope’s hand.
    Penelope attempted a smile. “I’ll try.”
    “Good. We know you can do it. You look lovely, and the gentlemen will be anxious to make your acquaintance.”
    If that was supposed to calm her, Sybil could not have chosen anything worse to say. Visions of tripping her way around the ballroom while everyone looked askance heightened her terror to the point where she had to fight the desire to beg them to let her out of the carriage.
    Once they arrived at the Mayfair section of London, it took their carriage more than twenty minutes to move slowly up the queue until they finally rolled to a stop in front of Yardley House. A footman opened the door, and helped the ladies out. Penelope stepped down, thankfully not tripping, and then stared in wonder at the brightly lit home rising in front of her.
    Hundreds of candles must have been burning to create such a wealth of brilliance. Ladies and gentlemen, dressed in silks, satins, and the finest lace, strolled toward the front entrance, where two footmen stood. Feathers decorating ladies’ coiffures waved in the slight breeze, mixed in with jeweled turbans, and men’s elegant top hats.
    I don’t belong here. These people are the upper crust of society, peers of the realm. Lord, how will I get through this night?
    “Surely you’re not thinking of fleeing?” Drake’s deep rich voice murmured in her ear, startling her from her reverie.
    She stiffened her spine. “Not at all. I am looking forward to this.” Hopefully God would not strike her dead for such a blatant lie.
    “Good.” He turned to his mother and extended his arm. “It appears we are all ready.”

    After two long hours of preferring to melt into the wall, Penelope spotted Drake as he maneuvered his way through the crowded ballroom to drag yet another gentleman to her. He’d been presenting men all evening. This one looked like he wasn’t even old enough to shave. He kept licking his lips and taking deep breaths, apparently as nervous as she was.
    Having had her feet stomped on a number of times, she was no longer afraid of the dance floor. What she wanted more than anything was a stroll outside to avail herself of fresh air. The scent of candlewax, ladies’ perfumes, and so many overdressed bodies pressed together had given her the headache.
    “Miss Clayton, may I make known to you