Page 18 of A Bargain with the Rakish Duke
The air between them crackled with tension. He leaned in just a fraction closer, the scent of her perfume intoxicating him.
“You, on the other hand,” he said softly, “are refreshingly genuine.”
Beatrice’s cheeks flushed, and for a moment, neither of them moved. The world seemed to narrow down to just the two of them, the space between them charged with unspoken possibilities.
Just as Beatrice parted her lips to respond, the sound of footsteps echoed in the hallway.
They sprang apart, Kenneth’s hands falling to his sides as a servant rounded the corner.
The servant bowed. “Dinner is about to be served in the dining room.”
Kenneth nodded, composing himself. “Thank you. We’ll be right there.”
As the servant disappeared, Kenneth turned back to Beatrice, who was smoothing her skirts with shaky hands.
“Until dinner, Lady Beatrice,” he said, his voice still rough with desire.
She met his gaze. “Until dinner, Your Grace.”
With a final, heated glance, Kenneth turned and walked away, his body humming with the promise of what was to come.
Chapter Six
Kenneth knew that the Dowager Duchess had a penchant for scheming, and tonight was no exception.
As he took his seat in the grand dining room, he could not help but notice that Lady Beatrice was positioned directly across from him. He also noticed that Lady Featherwell, seated a few places down, wore a look of clear displeasure, her thin lips pressed into a tight line.
He smirked inwardly. The Dowager Duchess was undoubtedly eager for another debate, perhaps hoping to spark the same spirited exchange about art that had occurred earlier in the gallery. Lady Bernmere sat nearby, her eyes twinkling with mischief. Kenneth suspected that the Dowager Duchess had already told her about his interaction with Beatrice.
As the first course was served, Lady Bernmere leaned forward, addressing the table with a smile.
“I heard there was a fascinating discussion about art earlier today. Kenneth, Lady Beatrice, would you care to share some of your insights with us?”
Kenneth remained aloof, unwilling to fall for the Dowager Duchess’s scheme. He was determined not to be drawn into another debate, especially one orchestrated for the amusement of others.
Beatrice, however, did not share his reticence.
“Your Grace,” she began, her tone polite but firm, “I was merely expressing that light, as used by artists like Westback, can convey hope and beauty, even without the presence of shadows.”
Kenneth responded laconically, “A valid point, Lady Beatrice.” He then leaned back slightly, seeming to concede.
Beatrice took this as a victory, a small smile playing on her lips.
Feeling a twinge of irritation, Kenneth couldn’t help but add, “However, I find it intriguing that one would argue so vehemently for an approach thatavoidsthe complexities of life.”
Beatrice’s smile faded. “Are you implying that those who focus on the light are avoiding reality, Your Grace?”
Kenneth leaned in, his gaze intense. “Not precisely, Lady Beatrice. But it does make one wonder if they are perhaps shielding themselves from the harsher truths.”
Beatrice countered, “Or perhaps they are choosing to see the good amidst the bad. Not everyone has the luxury of dwelling on the shadows.”
“Embracing the darkness can also be a sign of strength, a way to face adversity.”
Beatrice met his gaze steadily. “And focusing on the light can be a way to inspire others, to show that there is always a glimmer of hope, no matter how dire the situation.”
Kenneth’s irritation grew, but so did his admiration. “You speak as if from experience, Lady Beatrice. One might almost think you have faced such adversities yourself.”
Beatrice’s cheeks flushed. “I think it is clear that I have, Your Grace. Does that make my perspective any less valid?”
