I stepped off the last stair and glided straight to the Duke. I didn't wait for an invitation and simply hooked my arm firmly into his, the nine-tailed fox fur brushing against his dark coat.
"It would be a scandal to keep the Master of the House waiting for the first dance, wouldn't it, Your Grace?" I purred, my voice laced with silk, and it cut through the silence with just the right melody.
The Duke let out a low, resonant laugh that vibrated through my arm. He looked down at me, his eyes sparking with a rare, predatory glint as he felt the eyes of his sons—and his wives—burning into his back.
"A scandal indeed, Lady Lyssa," he whispered, his hand coming to rest over mine on his arm, pinning me to him. "But then again... you were born to burn down traditions."
"You know me too well, Your Grace," I purred, resting against him.
