Undercover Duke

here, too.”
Her uncle started to laugh until Sheridan glared at him, and Sir Noah sobered at once.
“If you’re worried about my lack of a chaperone,” Vanessa went on, “I can assure you Uncle Noah is prepared to perform that service.” She smiled up at the man. “Aren’t you, Uncle?”
“Certainly.” He surreptitiously surveyed the grandeur of Thorn’s ballroom. “As long as you don’t get lost in this cavernous place.”
“She won’t,” Sheridan said smoothly. “I’ll make sure of it.”
Now her uncle fixed a baleful gaze on Sheridan. “Forgive me, Duke, but I’ll make sure of it.”
Wonderful. Just what Sheridan needed—a suspicious baronet on his arse, no Lady Eustace to question, and Vanessa up in arms. This was precisely why Sheridan had wanted someone else to do the questioning—because he could never be easy around Vanessa. It was either keep his distance or kiss her senseless.
“I don’t understand why a woman of my advanced years needs a chaperone, anyway,” Vanessa said.
“Advanced years?” Sheridan snorted. “You’re twenty-five, Vanessa, not fifty.”
She pointed her chin at him in that odd way she had of examining people. Like a raven. Or a magpie who enjoyed stealing away whatever glittered. “I’m surprised you noticed. You treat me as if I’m twelve.”
“If you wouldn’t act as if you’re twelve, I wouldn’t treat you that way.”
Sir Noah muttered something about needing punch and hurried off, but Sheridan was already regretting his too-swift response. He could swear the temperature around him had dropped ten degrees.
Her eyes certainly resembled ice. “If you wouldn’t act as if you’re fifty, I’d refrain from pointing out that even my aged uncle knows how to enjoy himself at a party, especially one with good music, excellent food, and plenty of punch.”
The lady did know how to wield her tongue, didn’t she? “Pax,” he said with a rueful smile. “I admit my remark was uncalled for.”
“And rude, too.” She gazed across the ballroom as if looking for any companion but him.
That goaded him into saying, “Now it’s your turn to apologize.”
“For what? I only spoke the truth.”
He groaned. His plan to cozy up to Vanessa in order to get to her mother wasn’t exactly going swimmingly. “So I take it your mother is not in attendance then?” he asked, just to be sure.
“No. She was feeling poorly after the play.” Vanessa searched his face. “But that’s all for the best, don’t you think? It makes matters easier with your family, since I dare say none of them like her.”
“Did you ask her not to come?”
“No, indeed. She decided that all by herself once she heard it was to be an ‘informal’ affair with ‘only a few close friends and family.’ How could she possibly know that your ‘close friends’ number in the hundreds?”
He chuckled. “I’m afraid I was a bit misinformed myself about the nature of the event.”
“Clearly.” She relaxed a bit. “But it’s of no matter. I always enjoy myself better when Mama is not around.”
Before he could comment on that, Thorn called out to the orchestra, “Play music, sirs! ‘Come, come . . . Let’s have a dance ere we are married, that we may lighten our own hearts and our wives’ heels.’”
The quote from Shakespeare startled a laugh out of Sheridan. All this time, he’d been attributing Thorn’s theatrical flourishes to their family’s general love of the theater. How strange Sheridan had never guessed before that Thorn was a playwright.
Sheridan scanned the room for his sister-in-law, to see her reaction to Thorn’s quote, but although some other newly minted duchess might be embarrassed at such lavish language, Olivia beamed at the man she obviously adored.
Vanessa leaned up to whisper, “You have to admit they’re perfect for each other.”
“Only time will tell.” Sheridan knew she was alluding to their earlier conversation about marriage. “They’re still in the honeymoon stage.”
“I swear, for a man who’s only ever been a bachelor, you certainly seem to think you know a great deal about marriage.”
Despite never having entered the wedded state, he knew enough about it to be cautious, though few realized it. He wasn’t the sort to blather his personal affairs to all and sundry.
The musicians had taken Thorn at his word and had already struck up a lively reel. The guests were moving aside to allow room for dancing couples to take the floor. So Sheridan laid his hand in the small of Vanessa’s back and murmured, “We’d best get out of the way.”
She tipped her head up at him. “You’re not going to ask me to dance? And here I thought you were my suitor.”
Damn, she was right. But before he could respond, Juncker approached them. “Miss Pryde, would you do me the honor of dancing this set with me?”
Sheridan answered for her. “She can’t. She has already promised it to me.”
Vanessa looked startled by his response but didn’t gainsay it. “As His Grace said, I am otherwise engaged.”
“Then I shall request the next,” Juncker said.
“In that case, thank you.” She flashed him a broad smile. “I’d be delighted.”
She didn’t have to be quite so delighted, blast it. As Juncker walked away, Sheridan scowled after him. What was the fellow up to now? Sheridan didn’t trust him one whit.
At least Sheridan had Vanessa for the present. And he meant to take advantage of it. His hand still lay in the curve of her back, and he marveled at how supple it felt, even through her gown.
“Well, our plan seems to be working,” Vanessa said, obviously oblivious to the intimate position of his hand. “And better than I hoped, too. Did you know Mr. Juncker has never before asked me to dance?”
“Then he’s more fool than I realized,” Sheridan said, and took her to the floor. When he caught Vanessa eyeing him as if he’d made a damning admission, he added, “You’re an excellent dancer. You make it easy for a partner to lead you, which is more than I can say for most of the ladies in society.”
“Why, Your Grace, I do believe you paid me