Read Online A Good Debutante's Guide to Ruin by Sophie Jordan - Free Book Online Page A

She wouldn’t meet his stare, instead training her attention somewhere just beyond his shoulder. Her disregard of him was blatant . . . and not a little annoying.
    â€œIndeed, my lord. I shall have to see that for myself, then.”
    Her gaze snapped to his face as if shocked by his words, treating him to the full blast of her topaz eyes. If possible, those twin red flags on her cheeks burned brighter.
    â€œOh, quite right. You must, you must,” Lord Strickland agreed effusively, stepping back with a wave.
    Dec squared off in front of her and reached for her gloved hand, so small and slender. His bigger hand swallowed it. Her fingertips curled over the edge of his hand, and the corners of his mouth tugged upward as he gripped her waist. He tugged her closer. She came forward grudgingly. “I would almost think you didn’t want to dance with me, Carrots.”
    â€œDon’t call me that,” she snapped.
    He grinned then. Couldn’t help himself. They danced for several moments. Strickland was right. She danced very well. It was more like she floated, skimming the floor, the only thing keeping her anchored was his hands.
    â€œYou might not want to appear so averse when someone calls me your sister.”
    His smile slipped. “You’re not my sister.”
    Her gaze clashed with his. “And must you appear so vehement on that point? You’re acting as my guardian and ushering me through the Season. You might not want your distaste to appear so obvious.”
    He stared down at her but said nothing. To be fair, he was not sure how he felt about her other than that he wanted her gone from his life. All his thoughts of her were tied too closely with his ill opinion of her mother. It was a tangled knot and he didn’t see any way to separate the strands.
    The music came to an end and she dropped his hand, stepping back hastily. “I think that served to adequately give me your endorsement. In case the dowry was not sufficient enough. My thanks, Your Grace.” At those stiff words, she gave a hasty curtsy before weaving her way through the crowd, disappearing in the crush of bodies.
    He slowly turned, glancing over his shoulder several times as if he would catch a glimpse of her.
    â€œThere now. Ready to go?” Max asked.
    He nodded absently, trying to shake her from his thoughts and how she was nothing like he had imagined. Nothing like her cloying mother. Rosalie appeared almost as eager to be rid of him as he was of her.
    â€œYes. I’m finished here.”

 
    Chapter 8
    R osalie flopped back on the bed with a heavy sigh. Her feet ached from another night of dancing. It had been much the same for close to a week now with no reprieve. Tonight was especially unpleasant, as she’d danced with a portly baronet with very little grace who trod all over her slippers.
    She kicked off both slippers and rubbed her aching, stocking-­clad toes. “Can we not have one night where we are not rushing off to some ball or party?” Releasing her foot, she speared her fingers through her hair, tugging the thick mass back from her head.
    â€œYou mean you’re weary of it already?” Aurelia clucked. “Oh, dear. You are in trouble, then, for there is no foreseeable end to it. At least not this Season.”
    Rosalie propped herself up on her elbows and scowled down at her friend, reclining at the bottom of the bed. “You needn’t sound so satisfied. You don’t appear to be enjoying yourself either.”
    Aurelia grinned and shrugged. “I’m accustomed to it. You are not.” She shook her head. She’d already unpinned her head, and the dark, rich waves tumbled around her shoulders. “I simply didn’t think you would be quite so . . .”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œWell . . . quite so much like me, honestly.”
    Rosalie cocked her head and started to pull the pins from her own hair, not bothering to wait