Page 43 of The Duke's Vice

Ezra cocked his head to the side, utterly confused as to what his friend was going on about. “Of course I admit it. Why wouldn’t I? I was there, she was there, we ran into each other on the dance floor and I asked her to dance since we were both out there.”

Frederic held up his hand. “Hold on a moment. You were in the middle of the dance floor?”

Ezra sighed, this conversation was becoming exhausting. “Yes.”

“And you don’t see how people would consider that strange?”

Ezra continued to look on in confusion.

“You,” Frederic drew out. “You. On the dance floor. What? You were just wondering around and found yourself in the middle of a dance floor? Does that sound like something you would normally do?”

Ezra once again swirled the liquid in his tumbler. “Just because I haven’t done it in the past doesn’t mean it’s odd behavior. I was walking, trying to avoid people and I found myself in the middle of the dance floor. What was odd was that there was empty space on the dance floor to walk. If anything someone should talk to Lady Joynor, she’s losing her grip on exciting balls.”

Frederic blinked at his friend. “Do you hear yourself?”

Ezra shrugged, tired of this conversation.

“And Lady Beatrice just happened to be there at the same time?”

Ezra nodded. “I didn’t drag her out there if that’s what you’re insinuating.”

Frederic sat back and considered his friend. He rubbed his face then leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“I’m willing to concede that your dance was happenstance, but what about afterwards?People told me you were spotted speaking with her in a darkened doorway.”

Ezra groaned. “This is why I hate the peerage and society events. Vultures. All of them. Each out to make something out of nothing.”

Frederic raised an eyebrow. “Again, you’re not denying it.”

Ezra pushed out a breath. “Yes! I was talking to her, heaven forbid! And it was not a darkened doorway, it was just beside the refreshment table where anyone could have heard our casual conversation about books.”

Frederic sat up with a bewildered look. “Books? Now who’s going soft? You’re semi-alone with a woman and you talk books with her?”

Ezra finished his drink. “I’m done for the night, Frederic. Give my best to Harriet.”

Ezra turned to leave when his friend grabbed him by the arm. “Just be careful, yeah? People are starting to talk and you, of all people, know where talking can lead.”

Ezra’s body recoiled at Frederic’s insinuation that his arrangement with Beatrice would lead anywhere near her ruination.

He shrugged Frederic’s hand off. “I know what I’m doing, Frederic. You worry about yours, I’ll worry about mine.”

Ezra left the club not realizing that, intentionally or not, he had called Beatrice his and it didn’t feel wrong.

CHAPTER 12

Beatrice stood off to the side with her mother watching Sarah and her husband, the Duke of Stoleton, welcome their guests as everyone entered their home.

“Come,” Charlotte whispered in Beatrice’s ear. “Let’s make our way to the parlor. I think Eleanor is in there already.”

Beatrice followed her mother into her sister’s parlor. There was a drink cart set up and the furniture was moved from its original setting to allow for more people. Somehow the shift allowed for more seating, yet more room to move around.

Charlotte walked them to the cart and poured Beatrice some punch. “I wonder who all is coming. Sarah told me but in my old age I must’ve forgotten.”

Beatrice raised an eyebrow. Her mother was far from her maiden days but she was far from old.

“I know Jane will be here with her parents but that’s all I know.” Beatrice took a small sip of her punch as her sister Sarah walked into the parlor with a peculiar look on her face.

“Sarah?” Charlotte questioned. “Are you all right? Is everything all right with the children?”