Page 40 of The Duke's Vice

Beatrice lowered her head and tried to look out of the corner of her eyes to see if anyone was looking. So far, no one was watching.

“It’s not like I’m talking about any specific spectacle in particular. Now, if I were to say the word ‘party,’ or ‘mask,’” Graham paused for a moment. “Or I suppose even ‘couch,’ now those words may bring some unwanted interest our way.”

With each word Beatrice’s head sunk lower and lower. If she could she roll into a ball and roll right out of the room she would. She looked up to see Lady Joynor watching with her with interest.

Beatrice straightened up under her watchful eye and offered a small smile in the woman’s direction. Being on Lady Joynor’s bad side did no one any favors.

“Tell me, little mouse, are you ashamed of your actions the other night?” Graham’s question was softer as he leaned into her.

Beatrice bit her bottom lip and shook her head. “No. But just because I’m not doesn’t mean I want others to know what activities I engage in.”

Graham considered her response as he turned her around the outside of the dance floor then back into the middle.

“Well, because of your actions, it’s not like you were engaged in anything too scandalous.” He lifted a shoulder. “If you wouldhave behaved, well, then I guess you would have something to hide from eavesdroppers.”

Beatrice’s body heated at the memory. Her thighs clenched as phantom touches caressed her thighs and stomach. She blocked out the swaying of skirts and the song of the violins so she could remember the feel of his lips felt on her throat. She shuddered within his grasp.

“To think what might have been.” His words tickled her ear.

She looked up to find humor in his eyes and grimaced.

“I still think it was complete rubbish. You said no touching other people, not that I couldn’t touch myself. You made up a rule as we went. That is cheating.” She pouted.

Graham lifted her chin with one finger. “It is either my way, or no way, Lady Beatrice. You knew that going in. Do you wish to renege on our deal?”

Beatrice quickly shook her head. “No… I just wish you laid out all of the rules ahead of time in a clear and concise manner.”

Graham hummed. “I’ll take that under advisement.”

The parting notes of the song ended and Beatrice found herself wanting to continue. Even though they were arguing, she’d rather argue with him than dance with anyone else.

As couples began to leave the dance floor she secretly prayed that the musicians would start again quickly so they could just continue.

While still in his arms, he looked down to her. His eyes searched hers leaving her breathless.

“It is rather warm in here. Would you like a drink, Lady Beatrice?” His voice was rough and sent goosebumps down her arms.

She took his offered arm as he escorted her towards the refreshments. He walked her past the group of young men she was originally walking towards and past her friend Jane with other young women. She noticed a few looks their way but for the most part her attention was directed to the man at her side.

He moved with grace and agility, yet with a sense of power and authority that only came from experience and privilege.

After pouring them each a drink he gestured to the open door. They stood just inside, well in view of others so not to start any untoward rumors.

Graham looked around quickly. “I’ve been meaning to ask you a question about your list.”

At the mention of her list Beatrice’s body stilled. She, too, looked around but thankfully found that most had deserted the refreshment table for the next dance.

She nodded her head. “Go on.”

Nerves raced up her spine. She couldn’t deny the knowledge of knowing he had possession of her list felt too intimate and significant.

Graham leisurely leaned against the door jamb. “The opera scene.”

Giggles bubbled out of Beatrice. “What of it?”

The Duke raised his hands in question. “What is it? Where is it from? How am I supposed to help you recreate that scene if I have never heard of it?”

Beatrice took a breathe as the cool summer breeze wafted past her. In her stiff dress, she welcomed the kiss of the cool summer’s air on her skin. Which was perfect because just thinking of ‘the opera scene’ was enough to shoot white hot heat through her veins.

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