The Duke's Quandary by Callie Hutton Page B

Ellis, Viscount Dunbar.”
    Penelope gave a slight curtsy and smiled at the young man.
    “Dunbar, this is Miss Penelope Clayton. She’s staying with my family for the Season.” Drake clapped the viscount on his shoulder, almost knocking him off his feet.
    “How do you do, Miss Clayton.” Dunbar bowed and peered into her eyes in a rather disconcerting way. “May I hope there is room for me on your dance card?”
    Her hands fumbled with the little piece of paper dangling from her wrist. “I believe so.”
    Continuing to stare, he waited patiently until she had turned the dance card the correct way. Then he wrote his name, and again bowed. “I will see you after the next four numbers. Now I must seek out Miss Pendelton for our dance.”
    …
    Drake watched the viscount make his way through the couples returning from the last dance. He mentally brushed his hands together and was now done with Miss Clayton. Over the past hour, he’d introduced so many potential suitors to the chit that he’d lost count. Each time he brought another man over she grew paler.
    The few times he’d observed her on the dance floor, she’d seemed to acquit herself well. A few missteps and stumbles here and there, but nothing too horrible. As he’d presented the last man, he’d noticed Lady Daphne arrive with her parents. Fashionably late, as always.
    “Are you having a good time?” Perhaps a bit of conversation would calm Penelope so he could be on his way.
    “Yes. It’s lovely.”
    “You seem to be in favor with the gentlemen.”
    “Perhaps you dragging them over here by the scruff of the neck may have something to do with that, Your Grace?” Her eyes sparkled with mirth.
    Drake flushed. Despite her shortcomings, the girl did have a sense of humor, having no problem poking fun at herself. “Yes, well then, if you will excuse me, it appears Lord Grave is on his way to claim his dance.”
    After nodding to Grave, and watching him guide Penelope to the dance floor, he turned his attention to where Lady Daphne stood with her mother. He’d never cared for Lady Sirey. The woman always struck him as very snobbish, even for a member of the ton. It was as if she approved of no one below a duke. Since Drake had his eye on her daughter, it was a good thing he fell into her circle of acceptable personage. He oftentimes wondered why she had consented to marry Sirey. As a viscount, he certainly qualified as a peer, but it did not seem high enough in the instep for his wife.
    No better time than the present to put his plan into action. Pulling on the cuffs of his jacket, he headed toward Lady Daphne and the gentlemen already surrounding her, begging for dances.
    “Why, Your Grace, how nice of you to join us.” Lady Daphne’s cool, controlled voice rose above the chatter of the gentlemen vying for her attention.
    “My lady. You are looking splendid this evening, as always.” Drake bowed and kissed her extended glove-covered fingers. “May I be so bold as to ask for a dance? A waltz perhaps?”
    “It seems the supper waltz is available, Your Grace.” She eyed him under her thick lashes, a welcoming smile teasing her ruby lips.
    Several men groaned, apparently having already planned to ask for the coveted supper waltz.
    Drake wrote his name on the card and took his leave. He had no intention of hanging around her, panting like a puppy, as the others did. No need to join the group acting like schoolboys.
    He spent the next two hours observing his sisters, and writing his name on a few other suitable ladies’ cards. No need to restrict himself until he’d made a definite decision. He smiled as he watched his sister, Mary, surrounded by a gaggle of men, apparently in her glory, her fan waving furiously as she laughed at something one of the young pups said.
    More than once his gaze skimmed the ballroom seeking Penelope. He’d considered dancing with her, but something held him back. He knew his mother expected him to, but he’d done his