Hardly a Husband (Free Fellows League 3)

She opened her mouth to speak, but he stopped her with his next words. "Let's not argue anymore, Miranda."

"We always argue," she told him. "Not tonight."

"What shall we do instead?"

"I'm here," he said, reaching for her hand. "You're here. And the orchestra's here. Why not do me the honor of a dance?" He nudged her onto the edge of the dance floor.

Miranda blinked up at him, not certain she'd heard him correctly. "You're asking me to dance?"

"It would seem so." Lifting the dance card and tiny pencil dangling from her wrist, he penciled in his name for the current dance and all the others that followed, blithely crossing out the names already listed and adding his own. "And it seems I've done so in the nick of time before your card was full."

"You want to dance to this?" She frowned. The orchestra was playing a quadrille and in all the years she had known him, Miranda had never seen Daniel Sussex partner anyone to the music of a quadrille.

"You know better than that." He gave her his most devastating smile. "I despise quadrilles." Turning in the direction of the orchestra, Daniel held up three fingers, then four, designating the three-quarter time of the waltz.

"Daniel, you can't!" Miranda protested as soon as she realized his intention. "You know your mother doesn't allow waltzing at her galas."

"She'll allow it at this one." Daniel ignored Miranda's protest and signaled for the waltz once again. The orchestra leader glanced at the dowager duchess before giving Daniel an emphatic shake of his head.

Miranda turned to Daniel with a smug I-told-you-so look on her face.

But the Duke of Sussex was undaunted. He lifted his right hand, indicated the signet ring bearing the ducal crest and signaled, once again, for a waltz in three-quarter time. "There, now." Daniel smiled at Miranda as the orchestra leader acquiesced. "See, Miranda, with the right incentives, one can accomplish the impossible."

"As soon as she hears the music, your mother is sure to put a stop to it," Miranda warned.

"Then it's our only chance."

"Chance for what?"

"To escape in each other's arms."

The thought of being held in his arms while they circled the room at a romantically breathtaking pace filled Miranda with pleasure until she caught a whiff of his breath. "Daniel, you're foxed!"

"I am," he confirmed.

"But why?"

"Because I've been drinking."

"Yes, you have." Miranda struggled to keep from smiling, but lost the battle. "My guess is whisky. Quite a bit of it."

"Quite." Daniel nodded, swaying on his feet once again, leaning on her more heavily.

Miranda put out a hand to steady him and felt dampness against his waistcoat. He groaned in obvious pain. "Daniel?"

Daniel glanced down. "Bloody hell," he cursed beneath his breath. "Mistress Beekins won't be pleased."

Miranda's ears pricked up at the sound of an unfamiliar female name. "Who is Mistress Beekins?"

"The lady who sewed me up," Daniel replied, matter-of-factly.

"Sewed you up?" Miranda parroted.

Daniel nodded. "In nice, neat stitches." He frowned. "But it appears to be for naught because I seem to be bleeding again." He fought to keep his feet, leaning heavily on Miranda for balance. "There's the end of the quadrille. Come, Miranda, I want to waltz with you. Now."

"Daniel, you're in no condition to waltz." Miranda looked closely and saw that he was flushed with fever. "You ought to be in bed."

Daniel stared down at her. "I'm doing my damnedest to get there."