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Victor turned his head sharply to see a figure of a woman walking past his little darkened nook.

"Why do I have to even wear these things?" she continued, "I am quite sure that if men had to wear it, it would have been a thing of the past by now."

His mouth ticked up at her words because he agreed with her. The bloody things took forever to undo. He had once resorted to cutting one off a lightskirt's body and then had to pay for her to get a new one.

He opened his mouth to announce his presence but the disgruntled sound she made stopped him.

And then she took another step forward till she was standing under the moon light.

Victor's eyes widened. It was the sharp tongued chit he had run into earlier. The silver light washed over her and made her look like something otherworldly.

His fingers twitched at his side, but this time, it wasn't the urge for a cigar. It was with the pressing urge to pull out the pinsholding her hair up and let it Tumble down her back in soft waves.

"I wish I had not let them convince me into coming to this ball," the woman muttered.

When she whirled around, the Duke thought that he had surely been discovered, but her brilliant eyes never settled in his direction.

The brown haired woman grumbled something he couldn't hear and then began to walk back into the ballroom. He shook his head at the way she all but marched towards the French doors.

Two things happened at once. First, Victor stepped forward to reveal himself to her and second, she tripped.

With a squeal, she lost her footing and began to fall, squeezing her eyes shut and bracing for the unavoidable contact with the hard ground.

Victor leaped forward and snatched her from the air, hurling her smaller body into his to save her fall.

She gasped as he pressed her against him, eyes flying wide.

"You!" she shrieked.

CHAPTER 3

"We really must stop running into each other like this, my lady," the Duke said, a trace of amusement in it.

Lavinia opened her mouth to demand what he was doing out there, but the words died on her tongue as soon as she remembered who the man was.

Heat rose high on her cheeks as she recalled how she had insulted a Duke of the peerage, a man who could ruin her and her family with a single sharp glance.

Jenny had so helpfully informed her of his identity after her unfortunate encounter with him.

In her defense, he didn't look like any dukes she knew in theton. The rest were ancient and always had a quizzing glass at hand.

The man before her was not anywhere close to ancient and there was no quizzing glass to be found on his person. He was the very definition of an Adonis, tall and finely built. It was a wonder the ladies hadn't flocked around him. Who wouldn't want to ensnare a young, wealthy duke?

"I apologize, Your Grace," she pulled away from him to curtsy, eager to get as far away from here as possible.

A moment ago, she had wanted to hide out here for the rest of the night, but the man's presence now demanded the opposite. The balcony was far too secluded for a single lady and a gentleman to be out here innocently.

"Ah, I see that you have discovered my secret identity," he sounded annoyed, "I shall now brace myself for the Your Graces."

Her brow hiked up, "if it was truly a secret, then I must say that it is the worst kept secret in history." It immediately struck her that the Duke had been out here before her, "H-how long have you been out here, Your Grace?"

And most importantly, how much of her muttering had he heard?

From the way his eyes lit up with amusement, she assumed that he had heard a lot of it.

"Not long, why do you ask?" he asked with maddening calm that revealed to her that he had heard more than she had intended anyone to hear, least of all him.

Lavinia didn't have a temper, she didn't! In fact, she was a most mild and genteel lady in general. She liked to mouth off to her best friend and her cousin, Noah, but she had far too much home training and self-preservation to know that one simply didn't speak back to a man such as he.