Page 3 of In Scandal with the Duke
“I am rather appalled they see a young lady in want of a partner, and so many gentlemen remain discourteous,” her aunt said, casting an accusatory stare at Elizabeth. “Most men need an enticement to approach a lady. We must let thetonknow—”
“No,” she said, knowing where her aunt wanted to go. “No one needs to know I am an heiress. I will never like a man whose admiration is generated by self-interest and little else.”
“When I met my husband, only the betterment of my family drove me to accept an offer from a viscount; now I love that man with my entire heart,” her aunt said. “The importance does not lie in how attachments start, but in how they end.”
“I will not change my thoughts on this matter; you need to respect this.”
Her aunt narrowed her eyes. “Bette! You are being too stubborn about—”
“I shall leave, given that my wishes cannot be respected.” Elizabeth softened it with a small smile. “This is important to my happiness, or else I would not ask this of you both.”
Her aunt sighed and grudgingly said, “Very well.”
Elizabeth’s belly unknotted, and as she watched the swirl of colors and movement before her, she felt an aching sense of detachment. She understood her aunt’s worries. Despite their hostess’s gracious introductions to several eligible gentlemen, none had asked her to dance. Elizabeth was not the delicate, blonde beauty her brother claimed was celebrated as diamonds and roses of each season. Still, she was pretty, owning dark brown hair with streaks of red that flattered her fair complexion. More than one admiring gaze lingered on her, but no one approached her.
Am I to always be liked first for my wealth?
“I need a breath of fresh air. I will return shortly.”
After giving her a sympathetic glance, her mother nodded. As Elizabeth hastened away, she could feel her aunt and mother’s concerned stares prickling at her back. She plucked a glass of champagne from a footman moving deftly through the crowd with a serving tray. Pushing through the throng, she reached the doors leading to the terrace balcony and slipped outside, a sigh of relief escaping her lips as she found it deserted, most of it bathed in the soft glow of moonlight.
The cool night air was a balm, and just as Elizabeth contemplated the prospect of leaving the ball early, a sudden stir from inside snagged her attention. The murmur of whispers floated out to the balcony like autumn leaves caught in a gust.
“It is the Duke of Basil,” a lady gasped, her tone infused with shock and a hint of thrill.
“Why, I haven’t seen him at one of these events in ages. Not since you know … thescandal,” another responded in a dramatic whisper, her voice conveying disapproval and delight.
Elizabeth softly scoffed, her lips curling in amusement. It seemed that ladies in England possessed the same penchant for gossip as those in New York.
“Good heavens, is Lady Clara in town?” one queried in a hushed tone.
“Oh, Mary, do not speak of it. We do not wish for that dreadful gossip to be reignited. Clara was so devastated when he did not make her his duchess,” the first lady replied, her voice a whisper of sympathy.
Hidden behind the door and a large palm frond, three ladies engaged in fervent gossip. Elizabeth’s curiosity piqued, and she craned her neck to catch a glimpse of the infamous duke. A few gentlemen milled about, but none bore the distinct aura of nobility she imagined a duke would possess.
“It was very ungentlemanly of him; they were caught together. How could he have been so callous to her? Poor Clara has been in the country for the last two years. I was hoping she would put it all behind her by now,” one lady lamented.
“Mary, one does not simply dust off a ruined reputation and put it behind them!” another countered sharply.
“I, for one, could never admire such a man, even if he is as handsome as Lucifer himself,” declared another with a snort. “With a devilish wit and charm to match!”
“A rather macabre comparison!” was the quick retort.
As handsome as Lucifer?
Elizabeth rolled her eyes in an unladylike fashion. The idle tongues of gossiping ladies always amazed her—oh!Her thoughts scattered as a tall figure emerged through the throng, his posture regal yet distinctly aloof.
Goodness, he is handsome.Is he these ladies’ Lucifer?
CHAPTER2
The gentleman’s midnight black hair curled over his forehead and behind his ears, suggesting a need for a trim that somehow did not detract from his elegance but rather enhanced his rakish appeal. His cheekbones were pronounced, carved with an almost savage grace, and his lips held a cynical edge that did nothing to diminish their sensuality.
His attire was impeccable: dark trousers paired with a jacket, a crisp white cravat, and a striking blue waistcoat that clung to his lithe frame with flawless elegance. Elizabeth felt a flutter of surprise—almost mortification—as her heart quickened. It was not like her to be swayed by mere physical attractiveness; she had always hoped to appreciate and be appreciated for thought and charm rather than appearance.
Perhaps he is a beast in fine clothing, or perhaps he is not the duke.
The unknown gentleman disappeared through the crowd, and Elizabeth chuckled lightly at herself, realizing how tense she had been. Leaning back against the cool marble of the balcony, she gazed up at the night sky, grateful for the clarity that revealed the stars twinkling like diamonds strewn across black velvet. Knowing she couldn’t hide forever before her mother or aunt came looking, she reluctantly pushed off from the balustrade to return inside.
