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Amy?" he breathed. Two dancers, caught up in the dance, didn't see him standing there and collided with him, nearly knocking him down. "Lord Charles! I beg your pardon!" But he never heard them. He never saw them. He had eyes only for the stunning beauty who was being swept around the dance floor by Gareth's friend Perry. She was a ravishing young woman in shimmering peacock and royal blue whose beauty commanded the eye, the attention, the heart — and made every other woman in the room pale to insignificance. Charles's mouth went dry. His heartbeat cracked his chest and he forgot to breathe. Another set of dancers collided with him, knocking him to his senses. Angrily, he stared into the amused eyes of Gareth's friend Neil Chilcot, another Den of Debauchery member who was partnering a grinning Nerissa. "Gorgeous young woman, isn't she?" quipped Chilcot, sweeping Nerissa past. "You should've stuck around to see her announced, Charles. Not that you'll ever have a chance of claiming a dance with her now, what with all the young bucks before you already waiting . . ." Charles had heard enough. But as he stalked across the dance floor, he heard even more. "Well, His Grace told me she's an heiress . . ." "Not just an heiress, but a princess from some vast Indian nation in America . . ." ". . . came here to offer her tribe's help in the war against the Americans . . ." Charles clenched his fists. Lucien. No one else could have, would have, started and circulated such a preposterously crazy rumor! What the hell was his brother trying to do, get Amy married off to some handsome young swain and out of Charles's life forever? This was no training for a lady's maid, that was for damned sure! His jaw tight, he stormed across the dance floor toward Amy. He saw her hooped petticoats swirling about her legs and exposing a tantalizing bit of ankle with every step she took, the laughter in her face even though she kept glancing over Perry's shoulder in search of someone, the studied grace in her movements that, a week ago, he would've sworn she didn't have. She had not seen him yet, and as Perry, a handsome man who had something of a reputation with the ladies, led her through the steps, Charles felt a surge of jealousy so fierce, so violent, that it made him think of doing something totally irrational. Such as calling Perry out for dancing with his woman. Such as killing Lucien for whatever little game he was playing. Such
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