Regency Surrender: Powerful Dukes: An Unsuitable Duchess / An Uncommon Duke

He had known she was up to something! He took a long drink. ‘To whom are you referring?’

‘Oh, I think you know.’

‘What exactly are you plotting?’

‘Why do you believe I am plotting anything?’ she asked, arching an inquisitive brow.

‘I am not dim-witted,’ replied Julian, and he arched his brow in return.

‘No, you are not.’

‘That was not an answer.’

‘What was the question?’

He momentarily closed his eyes. When he looked back at her the glass in her hand was empty. ‘I’m trying to decide if it is wise to give you more lemonade.’

She reached behind him and took another glass. ‘You do not need to attend to me all evening. You should look around. You might find someone of interest.’

Julian eyed his grandmother in annoyance. Why did the women in his life seem to have this need to meddle in his affairs? He stood near her, refusing to give any indication that he was in search of a wife. However, this time when his gaze travelled across the room he easily spotted Miss Vandenberg amid the whirl of white. He was transfixed as he watched her attempt to move gracefully through a quadrille with that idiot Lord Boreham.

‘Are you going to dance with her?’ the pest at his side whispered.

He glanced down at her. ‘I have no desire to dance this evening.’

‘Forgive me. I thought you had found something that held your attention. I must have been mistaken.’

‘You most certainly were,’ he replied, his eyes inexplicably drawn back to the dancing couple.

She lowered her voice even further. ‘If that is Miss Vandenberg, Madame de Lieven will know if she has been given permission to waltz.’

Julian stared at his grandmother, aghast. ‘I have never waltzed here, and I do not intend to do so now.’

However, if they did waltz together he would have her undivided attention. She would not be able to leave the conversation when it was convenient for her, as she had each time they’d spoken in the past.

A smile tugged at his lips as he watched her walk off the dance floor.

* * *

When the quadrille ended Katrina returned to Mrs Forrester and Sarah, who were standing near one of the white gilded columns. She was grateful for the reprieve.

‘You appear to have both feet intact,’ Sarah teased. ‘Perhaps Lord Boreham has taken dancing lessons.’

Fanning herself to cool her heated body, Katrina smirked. ‘No, I have simply become adept at hiding my pain.’

‘Did you hear about the caricature that was printed of him recently?’ Sarah asked, staring questioningly into her glass of lemonade.

Most of these satires mocked political figures and the Prince Regent. Katrina knew there were others that were drawn of certain members of the ton, but since she was fairly new to London, and not well acquainted with too many people, she never paid much attention to them. However, now she was intrigued. ‘What does it look like?’

Sarah glanced over at Lord Boreham, who was standing a few feet away with a group of young bucks. ‘In it he is sprawled on the ground at the entrance to the Palace of Westminster. I do not recall the caption, but the image was memorable. A number of the dandies standing with him now were having a good laugh over it last evening.’

Although she was not fond of the marquess, Katrina felt sorry for him. It must be mortifying to have someone you didn’t know make a mockery of your life.

‘Katrina, if you persist in moving your fan so rapidly I fear the lady behind you will discover her peacock-feathered cap flying away!’ advised Mrs Forrester.

Katrina slowed her hand. ‘Pardon me, but it is so warm in here. I’m looking forward to stepping through the next dance just to create a breeze.’

‘A waltz would do nicely,’ Sarah said.

Katrina leaned in closer. ‘I cannot believe we need permission to waltz here. I have been waltzing all over Europe, and now someone of no relation to me must give their consent.’

‘Well, I find it unusual that men cannot wear trousers here,’ Sarah said, scanning the stocking-clad calves of the men around them. ‘What an odd rule.’

‘Perhaps the patronesses are using their influence as an excuse to admire finely formed legs,’ replied Katrina. ‘What I don’t—’

‘Madame de Lieven, how wonderful to see you,’ said Mrs Forrester, a bit too enthusiastically.

Katrina raised her fan to hide her laugh and turned. Her eyes widened when she saw the Russian Ambassador’s wife on the arm of the Duke of Lyonsdale.

‘It is lovely to see you, ladies,’ Madame de Lieven said, inclining her head. She introduced Mrs Forrester and Sarah to the Duke, and then turned to Katrina. ‘I understand you are already acquainted with His Grace?’

Katrina could feel the weight of his attention as she lowered herself into a curtsy. ‘I am,’ she muttered.

‘Ladies,’ he said, in that deep voice that reverberated through her body. ‘I hope you are enjoying yourselves this evening.’

Mrs Forrester replied rather quickly—perhaps because she was wary of what Katrina or Sarah might say. ‘Thank you, we are. I believe Almack’s is an experience one must have in order to fully appreciate it.’

That was vague enough. Katrina bit her lip to keep from laughing.

‘And what do you appreciate the most?’ he asked them, with a knowing look in his eye.

‘We’ve been discussing the fine dancing,’ replied Mrs Forrester.

‘And the fashionable attendees,’ said Sarah as she glanced down at the Duke’s muscular calves, encased in white stockings.

When Katrina coughed to cover her laugh, he narrowed his eyes at her. ‘And, Miss Vandenberg, what have you come to appreciate this evening?’

Don’t say finely formed legs!

Katrina knew he suspected their discussion had not been innocuous. Could she ignore a duke in the middle of Almack’s and not lose her voucher? Probably not. She lowered her hand and stared directly into his green eyes.

He arched his brow.

She glared momentarily.

His lips twitched.

‘I have been enjoying honest discussions with my friends.’ She saw in his eyes that he understood what she implied.

Madame de Lieven cleared her throat and they both turned her way. ‘Miss Vandenberg, His Grace has requested a waltz with you, and I have happily granted his request.’

Katrina stared at her and prayed she had remembered to close her mouth. ‘How kind of you,’ she managed to utter. Who was she to speak for Katrina? And that insufferable man knew she could not turn him down now.

‘I believe the waltz is next,’ Madame de Lieven noted, appearing pleased with herself.

Lyonsdale held out his arm and sent Katrina a challenging look. ‘Then it is wise for us to proceed to the dance floor,’ he said.

She glared at him while politely resting her hand on his sleeve. They excused themselves and strolled through the crowd of people who parted for them. Watchful eyes followed their every step.

‘I assure you I do not bite,’ he whispered into her hair.

She chewed her lip to stop herself from telling him to go to the devil. Stepping on to the dance floor, he spun her around elegantly and placed his gloved hand on her back. Heat ran from his hand through her entire body. It was becoming difficult to breathe normally. A momentary sense of panic made her wonder how quickly the waltz would end. Maybe she could fake an illness in the middle of it?

He pulled her closer. She pushed her body further away.

‘I have the distinct impression that you would rather be elsewhere,’ he said. ‘May I ask why?’

‘No, you may not. I am still angry with you, lest you had not noticed.’

‘I thought you might be. Does your anger preclude us from speaking?’

‘It does. Angry people should not converse. It leads to further ill will.’

‘Is that an American rule of conduct? What is the case when only one of the party is angry?’

‘Then that person should remain silent. Usually the harshest statements are made in anger.’

He leaned his head closer. ‘And you are angry with me because you feel I have deliberately deceived you?’

‘Yes.’ She would not give him the satisfaction of knowing she was also angry because he had previously ignored her.

‘You say angry people should not converse, and yet here you are speaking to me. I really am becoming puzzled with your logic.’ He inhaled slowly.

Katrina jerked her head away from his.

He had the nerve to grin at her. ‘I am simply stating the inconsistency of our situation.’

‘Do not patronise me,’ she chided. ‘And stop sniffing my hair. It is disconcerting.’

‘For you or for me?’

‘For me,’ she replied in a low, forceful voice. ‘If sniffing my hair leaves you disconcerted that is another reason you should stop doing it.’

‘But there lies the rub. You see, where you are concerned I cannot help myself. I have become quite fond of lemons, by the way.’

‘They can be sour and leave a bitter taste in your mouth.’

His gaze dropped to her lips. ‘Yes, that is true. But they can also be refreshing, as well as tart.’

‘Perhaps you would do better to seek out something bland, like lavender or orange blossom. I’ve noticed a great many women in London favour those scents. I am certain if you try you can find an alternative place for your nose,’ she suggested with false sweetness.

His lips twitched. ‘Oh, I can think of a few places my nose would care to be.’

The insufferable man! She was not as naïve as he might think.

‘I am not speaking with you.’ She raised her chin, annoyed that he had taken the upper hand in their discussion.

‘So you said. You dance very well, by the way.’

‘Do you always ignore other people’s wishes?’

‘Usually. They never seem to mind.’ He gave a small shrug as he guided her gracefully into a turn. ‘In any event, I was not ignoring your wishes. You stated quite clearly that you were not speaking with me. I, on the other hand, have never said I am not speaking with you. In fact I believe you are the one ignoring your own wishes. You are continuing to speak with me.’

She shifted her attention to the dancers behind him and let out an exasperated breath.

He leaned down slightly. ‘That still might constitute speaking. It is a confirmation of your annoyance with me.’

Sliding her gaze back to him, she wondered how many more minutes she would have to be in his company. He sent her an amused look. Could she kick him during the dance without anyone seeing?

‘Now, Miss Vandenberg, you do not want the entire assembly to know that you are cross with me. It might reflect poorly on you. I suggest you pretend to enjoy being in my arms.’

That was the problem. Being in his arms was distracting, and it was making her feel all...fluttery. She forced herself to appear bored.

He appeared smug.

Blast it all!

‘Do you think every unmarried woman in this room wants you?’

‘Well, since I am one of only two eligible dukes in England who are able to eat with their own teeth, yes, I believe that to be true.’

‘I suppose that would matter were I English, but, you see, to me your title has little appeal. In fact, to me, your title is inconsequential.’

‘How so?’ he asked, tilting his head to the side.

‘The other ladies in this room are shopping for a title and prestige, but I am not. I intend to return to America when my father is finished with his business here and I have no intention to marry you or any other Englishman. So, you see, your title holds no interest for me.’

* * *

Julian almost stumbled on the wooden floor. He didn’t know how to respond. His title was impressive! There wasn’t an available woman in the room who didn’t want to be married to him. Except, it seemed, the woman in his arms.

Over the years there had been times when he’d wished he could find someone who would see him for the man he was and not his title. Now that he had his wish, he wasn’t certain he liked the result.

Annoyed with the turn in their conversation, he knew he needed to regain the upper hand. He leaned forward and took a deep breath. Miss Vandenberg shot him a frustrated glare.

It was much too easy to get a reaction from her, and Julian wasn’t ready to think about why that pleased him. Any reservations he’d had about asking her to waltz had gone the minute he held her in his arms and she began to speak. He wondered if she smelled like lemons everywhere...

‘Please stop,’ she whispered.

‘The dance? I think people would notice, don’t you?’

‘Sniffing me.’

‘Oh, that. If it truly bothers you I will find it within me to stop.’

‘I would appreciate the effort.’

There was a brief silence. ‘I do need to thank you, though.’

‘For rinsing my hair with lemon juice? I assure you it has nothing to do with you.’

‘No, not that. I want to thank you for sending my grandmother your father’s book. It was quite kind of you.’

‘It was no bother.’

‘All the same, you made an old woman very happy.’

‘Then, for her, I am pleased I arranged it.’

He thought he saw the faintest hint of a smile. ‘Tell me how you knew it was the Dowager Duchess of Lyonsdale I was referring to in our conversation. It might have been my maternal grandmother.’

‘Do you realise how commanding you are? Phrasing requests as questions is much more polite.’ She lifted her brows expectantly.

He, the Duke of Lyonsdale, had just been schooled in manners again by this American. It was absurd.

‘It’s a habit born of my title. In any event, I will heed your well-meaning lesson and try again. Would you please explain your exceptional deductive skills to me?’

This time a smile definitely tugged at her lips, and Julian found his question well worth the effort.

‘I enquired about you and discovered the Dowager lived in your home. I assumed she was the lady in question and had the book sent there.’

‘And how did you explain the request to your father?’

‘I’ve been handling my father’s correspondence while we have been abroad. I told him we had encountered each other at Hatchards, and that you told me your grandmother’s tale of woe.’

‘He did not question our introduction?’

She leaned closer to him. He could feel her breath on his ear, and he wanted to close his eyes to savour the sensation.

‘I have a secret, Your Grace. In America, formal introductions are not an absolute necessity. Americans frequently meet each other in similar fashion.’

Leaning back, she met his gaze with a good-humoured twinkle in her eyes. Her voice had been low and husky. The heat from her breath had travelled through every part of him.

He lowered his lips towards her ear, wanting to prolong this playful turn in their conversation. ‘What else do Americans do?’

The music of the waltz ended, and Julian was forced to let her go.

‘I suppose you will have to continue to wonder,’ she replied with an impish grin.

He held in a smile, wishing he could spend the remainder of the evening in her company.

Chapter Nine

Many a quizzing glass was raised as Katrina and the Duke walked through the parting attendants. Katrina could hear the whispers following them. Their sparring had been much too entertaining. She needed to remind herself that he was an arrogant man who had avoided her until their accidental encounter at Hatchards. Now, instead of leaving her when the dance was over, he was escorting her off the floor. Spending more time in his company would not be wise.

She began to slide her hand from his arm. ‘I see my father is waiting for me. Thank you.’

The Duke held her hand in place, keeping her at his side. ‘Would you be so kind as to introduce me?’

Would he act like an arrogant aristocrat towards her father? She slowed her steps before leading him to where her father was standing, not far from the dance floor. After introducing them, she waited for Lyonsdale’s next move.

He gave a polite nod of his head to her father. ‘I’d like to thank you for sending your book to my grandmother. Your kind gesture made her quite happy.’

‘It was my pleasure. I am always delighted to hear someone has enjoyed my efforts.’

‘I hear all of London is enjoying your efforts. I understand you are here in preparation for the Anglo-American Conference? I imagine your days are filled with information-gathering. Hopefully you will also have opportunities to explore more of London. I fear evenings such as this do not show us in our best light.’

The inconsistency in his behaviour was baffling, and it was difficult to form a clear picture of his character.

‘And what would you recommend to the worldly traveller?’ she asked.

He turned his head towards her. ‘Vauxhall Gardens and Drury Lane for entertainment, Tattersalls for quality horses, Hyde Park for beauty and fresh air, and Gunter’s for ice.’

He really did have lovely hair. It appeared thick and had some wave to it. And she realised she had memorised every detail of his chiselled features and square jaw.

Her father cleared his throat, drawing Lyonsdale’s attention away from her. ‘I believe you could easily write a guide to London and earn a few pounds, Your Grace.’

‘I fear spending most of my life here has given me a skewed perspective on what others would find entertaining. Perhaps I presume too much?’

‘I do not think you presume too much at all,’ her father continued. ‘Your very thorough list has intrigued me.’

Katrina tilted her head, taking in Lyonsdale’s comfortable yet elegant stance. ‘What would you recommend above all else? If you had only one day in Town, where would you go?’

There was a substantial pause, as if he was trying to recall what he found enjoyable. ‘I would go to the British Museum and see the Elgin Marbles.’

She tried to recall ever hearing the name. ‘I’m not familiar with them.’

‘They are a collection of artefacts from Ancient Greece. You should try to see them before you leave.’

She found it a surprising answer, coming from a man so consumed by his work. ‘And that is what you enjoy in London above all else?’

His lips rose into a hint of a smile. ‘At the moment they are my preferred attraction.’

Her father cleared his throat again. ‘I believe I was correct in my initial assessment, Your Grace. You could compose an admirable travel guide.’

Lyonsdale shifted his intense focus from her. ‘Thank you, sir. I will keep that in mind in the event that I find I am a bit light in the pockets. However, I doubt it would be as entertaining as I hear your book is.’ He smiled pleasantly. ‘Please excuse me. I shall take my leave. It has been a pleasure.’ He tipped his head to both of them and turned away.

She sensed her father’s weighted stare.

‘Let us find you some lemonade,’ he suggested when Lyonsdale was far enough away. As they began walking towards the refreshment table he lowered his voice. ‘This will not end well, my girl.’

‘There is no story here, Papa. Do not look to write one.’

‘That dance said differently. The man is a duke.’

‘I am well aware of that.’

‘Then you know you can have no future with him. He is destined to choose one of his own to marry.’

‘His choice of a bride does not concern me. You know I do not wish to find a husband here. I will not be attached to a man who will commit himself to me in the eyes of God, only to cast me aside when it’s convenient for him to do so. I know all about how Jerome Bonaparte deserted his wife because she was American. I have no desire to have that done to me.’

‘Those might be your feelings at the moment, but feelings can alter when attraction comes into play. I have seen it happen before.’

‘There is no attraction here. There is no game to be had.’

‘You fool yourself if you think so. This room witnessed quite a display of mutual attraction this evening. I would not be surprised if you find yourself in the papers tomorrow. I am only saying this to caution you. Guard your heart, my dear.’

‘It was a waltz. Two people have to grant each other their undivided attention. What you witnessed was a dance.’

‘What the entire room witnessed were two people so absorbed with one another they did not notice when the music ended,’ he said, handing her a glass of lemonade.

‘Of course we did. We stopped dancing.’

She could not deny that she was attracted to Lyonsdale, but it wasn’t as if he was irresistible. Ignoring the pull, she refused to scan the crowd to see who was receiving his attention now.

* * *

As Julian reached his grandmother’s side he followed her gaze to the couples who were assembling on the dance floor.

‘You were waltzing,’ she commented, sipping her lemonade.

He lowered his head to keep their conversation private. ‘We are not discussing this.’

‘I am simply making an observation.’

‘Well, please do not.’

‘She is rather a pretty thing.’

‘I said we are not talking about this.’

‘Talking about what?’ his mother interjected as she joined them.

‘We were discussing the headache Julian has suddenly acquired,’ replied his grandmother as she smiled into the rim of her glass.

Julian straightened and pressed his lips together to keep from laughing.

‘But you never get headaches. How long have you had this one?’ his mother asked anxiously.

‘Only a short while, I assure you,’ he replied, locking his fingers behind his back.

‘Is it severe?’

‘Not at the moment, but that could change.’

‘Do you require a physician?’ she asked in a panicked voice, studying his face.

‘A physician is not necessary.’

‘Very well. I know I need not remind you that you must dance with someone else this evening. We cannot have people believing you have designs on your one partner.’

Julian knew his mother was right. He had only danced once this evening, and he was certain people were speculating about his attendance. If he singled out Miss Vandenberg as his only partner, people would assume he was courting her.

Studying the room, he finally spotted Lady Mary, moving elegantly through a quadrille. He would ask her to dance. It was time he put some effort into conversing with her.

Moving his gaze from Lady Mary, Julian momentarily caught the eye of the amusing Miss Vandenberg...

An hour later he collected Lady Mary for their dance. When he took her hand in his there was no consuming need to pull her into his arms. Was this what bedding her would feel like? Putting on his usual bored expression, he began to dance. He studied her small features, her round youthful face and thick auburn hair. Nothing inside him stirred.

‘Is there something wrong, Your Grace?’

‘No. Why do you ask?’

‘You appear perplexed.’

‘Not at all,’ he replied, blinking away his thoughts.

They danced in silence for quite some time, and Julian tried to think of something they could discuss.

‘Your family—are they well?’

‘Yes, thank you. And yours?’

‘Very well.’

The minutes ticked by.

He tried again, ‘I expect your ride here was pleasant?’

‘Yes. The roads were very smooth. We encountered very few delays.’

‘Excellent.’ Julian clenched his jaw.

Again, there was silence.

‘Have you been enjoying your time here this evening?’ Lady Mary finally attempted to keep the conversation moving.

‘Yes, thank you. And you?’

‘Yes, very much. I always enjoy a ball or an assembly. It is agreeable, seeing so many friends in one place.’

How was it possible that she could speak of enjoyment without really smiling? And why did her eyes appear so lifeless?

‘What other things do you find enjoyable?’

‘Well, I enjoy needlework, playing the pianoforte, helping my mother entertain, and riding through Hyde Park.’

Not once did he see a spark of excitement in her. ‘But what is it that makes you truly happy?’