From long habit, he kept a tight rein on his escalating temper. It would be rude and pointless to vent his frustration in so public a venue. No, this discussion needed to be held in private, for it was a matter to be settled between him and his father.

Though he was loath to acknowledge it, even at this distance Carter could see that Lady Audrey’s hips were indeed unusually broad beneath the skirt of her silk gown. And her face, while passably pretty, had a most decidedly vacant look. Damn his father’s interfering ways.

The pair ceased their conversation and once again started moving directly toward him. Suddenly, all of Carter’s self-protective instincts kicked into high gear.

His father was being solicitous, almost conciliatory toward Lady Audrey. This was dangerous. Previously, the duke had allowed Carter to dismiss the women he presented after a single argument between the men, even as the duke balked at his son’s attitude.

With the celebration of Carter’s thirtieth birthday looming a few months away, the duke had become more adamant. The marquess worried that this time he would be unable to so easily dismiss his father’s choice.

The subtle scent of lavender assaulted his senses. Carter turned. Marvelous! A young woman stood on his left, mere steps away. He wiped his annoyance from his face and offered her a smile. “Good evening.” He bowed. “I am the Marquess of Atwood.”

“Yes, I know.” The young woman seemed taken aback by his forward manner, but she nodded cordially. “We met at Lord Willingford’s ball a few weeks ago. How are you, my lord?”

“Longing to dance. Won’t you please indulge me, fair lady?”

Without waiting for her to answer, Carter swept her into his arms. Mercifully, a section of the ballroom had been cleared for the dancing couples. He took immediate advantage and hastened toward the center, as far away from his father and Lady Audrey as he could get.