∞∞∞

Jilly could feel the duke’s eyes on her. She had never known such a thing was possible, and yet she could feel the nape of her neck heating beneath the intensity of his gaze. It had been nearly a week since his call, and she had hoped that his interest in her would have waned—but it seemed it had not. He had been present at nearly every event that she had attended, as if by some design. And though he had yet to approach her, she could always be certain that he would be lingering only a handful of steps away.
Unfortunately, his interest in her had been marked. Some openly wore their amusement, some were perplexed—a duke could generally expect his pick of any of the Season’s eligible women, and one who was both young and rich as Croesus would have them all but falling into his lap. Yet he barely spared the ambitious mothers or their pampered little darlings more than half a glance. Instead he saved all of his attention for her, and she bore just as much bewilderment as the rest of them.
She could see it in the face of her hostess, Lady Mayberry, who had two perfectly lovely and accomplished daughters newly out in society, both of whom had been paraded before His Grace, only to be politely but firmly rebuffed. His gaze had flickered over her two girls for only half a second in acknowledgement before it had returned, full force, to Jilly. And she knew that Lady Mayberry had to be wondering why the duke would set his sights on a woman half an inch from being firmly on the shelf when he might instead snap up any of the delectable little debutantes.
“Is he still staring?” Jilly asked, sotto voce.
“Of course he is,” Nora replied, her lips curving in a sly smile. “Do you really need to ask?”
No. No, she didn’t. Because she could still feel it. How his icy blue eyes could produce such heat was a mystery. It didn’t make a lick of sense. “I wish he would stop,” she said, aware of the resentful tone of her voice. “He is making a fool of himself.” And of her—she had once again become an object of much speculation.
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Nora said. “Of course, society will always forgive men their foibles. I only wonder what has kept him from acting on his…fascination.”
Jilly didn’t have to wonder. With her studious efforts at ignoring him, he had to know that she would only refuse him if he approached her. Still, she almost wished he would—simply so she could give him a direct cut and humiliate him as he had mortified her this past week. Perhaps then he would give in and pursue some other lady—some lady who wanted his attentions.
She shifted her feet, turning enough so that he came into her peripheral vision, on the pretext of watching the dancers float by. Thus far she had managed to keep her back to him, giving the impression to all and sundry that she took no notice of the man who had been her constant shadow of late.