An Unsuitable Duchess (10 page)

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

M
any 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.’