Page 38 of The Duke's Vice

She took a breath to calm her racing heart. This was not where she thought the evening was going to go.

Realization was settling in. “What are you talking about, Graham?”

After Graham deemed himself put back together he walked back to Beatrice and extended his hand to help her stand. She almost refused but she heard a moan from the outside, reminding her she was in his world and she did not know her way out.

She slid her hand into his, trying ignore the rush of heat that skated up her arm and straight to her core.

“You disobeyed me.” He said simply.

Beatrice blinked in confusion. “What? When?”

Graham tilted his head. “I said no touching. You touched yourself.”

Anger and frustration bubbled in her blood. “You weren’t specific! It’s not my fault I outsmarted you.”

Graham’s laugh startled her. “You’re right. I need to remember you’re more intelligent than most women I encounter. However, it does not matter, I said no touching, you touched yourself. Your punishment is no reward.”

Beatrice scrunched her forehead. “My punishment is no reward? What does that mean? What’s the reward?”

Graham shrugged. “Me.”

Now it was Beatrice’s laugh that echoed throughout the room. “Think highly of ourselves, don’t we?”

Graham offered another shrug. “I know my worth, mouse. Do you?”

His words stopped her retort. “What does… of course, I… what do you-”

“Come now. It is late. And while we didn’t get to cross two items off your list we did get to cross the one about attending the “wildside of London.” Of course, if you’d like to return we can. Now that you’ve been here, you no longer need an actual invitation, just me on your arm.”

Once again a cocky wink crinkled his green eyes. She was still trying to decipher what he meant about knowing her worth. The whole reason why she didn’t want to marry was because she knew her worth. She wanted more than a married life could give her. She was worth more than that.

She eyed him as he took her hand and guided her back down the hallway toward the front door.

She decided to let his comment rest for now. She pictured her list in her head and smiled when she mentally checked offNumber 3: See the Wild Side of London.

CHAPTER 11

Lady Joynor swept along the side of the ballroom, side-eyeing anyone who would dare look bored at her ball. It was utmost importance that everyone not only enjoy themselves at her soirees but do so in such a manner that her ball would be the highlight of the season.

Beatrice could feel Lady Joynor’s eyes on her as she fiddled with the lace that lined her neckline. She cringed when she saw her maid lay out this particular dress. The lace was itchy and the fabric was stiff but her mother swore it was her most flattering dress. So, here she was, scratching at herself with Lady Joynor staring daggers at her. After all, if you’re scratching, you’re not dancing.

“Oh, look Beatrice.” Charlotte leaned into her daughter. “Lord Devlin’s son is here again.” She brought her fan up to hide her face. “We never did figure out his name, did we?”

Beatrice sighed and sank on her heels. “Nor do I care to, Mama.”

Charlotte huffed while she fanned herself. “You promised me, my sweet.”

Beatrice bristled under the reminder.

“Besides, what harm can it do? We’re at a ball, a Joynor ball at that. If you don’t dance until your feet hurt you haven’t done enough.” Charlotte whispered with a giggle. “Why don’t you go wander over in his direction. Perhaps you’ll catch his eye and he’ll ask for a dance. After all you look positively stunning tonight and with Cecilia out of the picture you are the season’s newest diamond.” Charlotte said with a sly smile.

Beatrice wrinkled her nose. No one bestowed the title of the season’s newest diamond on her but her mother. Yes, she’s heard her name circulating around the marriage mart more than she cared to but it was nowhere near the fanfare Cecilia had at the beginning of the season.

“Very well, Mama. If anything, it’ll get Lady Joynor to stalk someone else. I swear she’s passed us four times and each time her sneer gets larger.”

Charlotte smiled as she dipped her head and moved to the outer wall.

Beatrice walked toward a group of young men huddled in the corner. Luckily for her they were by an open door, where a nice breeze entered. It was becoming too hot in the ballroom and having the excuse of standing near an open doorway was a good way to strike up a conversation with Lord Devlin’s son.

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