Page 8 of A Duchess in Ten Days (Icy Dukes #2)

Lavinia's gaze flickered away, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. She hadn't expected him to get so close to the truth. "I—I suppose it's not that simple, Your Grace. I just think...a lady deserves more than just security or convenience. She deserves to feel...something real."

"Oh, those books you read have deceived you," he groaned. "It's not the typical response from someone in your position."

Lavinia stiffened, her spine straightening defensively. "And what does my position have to do with anything?" she asked, her voice sharp but laced with vulnerability.

Andrew's lips curled into a smirk, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "Everything," he said simply and met her gaze. "You are the daughter of a marquess, Lavinia. Expectations cling to you like your corset. You may not like it, but you cannot escape it."

Her cheeks flushed at his insinuation. "I am perfectly aware of my circumstances, Your Grace," she murmured, her voice quiet but steady. "But that doesn't mean I cannot dream...or hope for something more than—than convenience."

Andrew tilted his head, his piercing gaze fixed on her. "Dreams are dangerous, Lavinia," he said softly.

She met his gaze, but only for a moment. "I would rather have dangerous dreams than none at all."

For a moment, he said nothing, and she couldn't tell if his silence was meant to mock her or if he was truly considering her words.

"Dreams won't shield you from reality," he said, his voice low and intimate.

"From your father's expectations, or the whispers of society.

They'll only make the fall harder when you're forced to wake up. "

Her lashes lowered, her courage faltering under the intensity of his gaze. "I know that. But even if they don't come true, they make the reality...bearable."

Andrew's lips twitched, though it wasn't quite a smile. "You're more na?ve than I thought," he murmured.

When they finally reached her family's home, they entered through the back door and made their way up the staircase to David's study.

Lavinia felt a flutter of nervous anticipation in her stomach.

She had no idea what to expect from these lessons Andrew had mentioned.

All she knew was that her life was about to be turned upside down.

David was already seated at his desk, poring over some papers. He looked up when they entered and then rose to his feet.

"I'll leave for a brief while to give you room to teach my sister," David said. "But you'll keep things appropriate. We have limited time, and I trust you know the importance of this. She has to secure a match, Andrew. Please, I am relying on you."

Andrew nodded, the faintest hint of amusement playing at the corners of his lips. "I understand," he said calmly.

With that, David left the room, his footsteps echoing in the hallway as he made his way down the stairs.

The silence that followed felt heavy, as though the weight of the moment had descended fully on Lavinia's shoulders.

She glanced at Andrew, unsure of what would come next, her mind racing with a mix of nerves and curiosity.

She was acutely aware of the tension in her chest, and the fear of making a mistake.

"Well then, Lady Lavinia," he said, breaking the silence. "Shall we begin?"

Lavinia nodded. He walked over behind the desk and sat where David had been seated, then gestured for her to sit across from him. Nervously, she did, folding both hands in between her legs.

"Our first lesson, Lady Lavinia,” he started by saying, "will be about keeping a gentleman's interest. Now, the first thing any man notices about a woman is her appearance. That's the truth of it. It's the first step to getting their attention."

Lavinia's chest tightened as she waited, heart pounding in her ears.

She had braced herself for the inevitable comment on her figure, for the critique she was certain would come.

It was the one thing she couldn't change, the one thing that always made her feel out of place among the slender women of the ton .

She couldn't control it. Her rounded curves were simply part of her.

Andrew cleared his throat as he continued. "A woman must command attention, not in a loud or showy way, but in a way that invites interest. You do not command that attention, Lavinia."

Lavinia bit her lip, holding her breath. Was this the moment? Would he mention it?

But he didn't.

"You're quite pretty, Lavinia," he continued. "But you are not confident in yourself and it shows in the way you dress and your inability to hold eye contact."

"Confidence is what will draw attention," Andrew went on, oblivious to her inner turmoil. "The way you present yourself can make all the difference. How you hold yourself, how you look at a man, it tells him everything about your self-worth."

"It's not intentional," she said to him. "I try, I just can't help it."

"You can, and you will," he said to her. "Let's continue with our lesson. I want you to imagine I'm a suitor now. Try to make conversation with me."

Lavinia's eyes widened. "A suitor?"

"Yes," he answered plainly.

Lavinia blinked, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks. A suitor? How was she supposed to talk to him like that? She attempted to think, trying to come up with something suitable to say, but everything felt too forced, too artificial. She opened her mouth, then closed it again, unsure of what to say.

"Ask me about my favorite book," Andrew prompted. "Gentlemen love talking about their interests. It's a good way to start a conversation."

"I thought you said men weren't interested in books?" she questioned.

"I said most men aren't. But I like to make exceptions." He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. "Plus, it would be better if you talked about something you know about. So, come on. Ask me."

Lavinia hesitated before speaking, her voice quiet. "What...what is your favorite book, Your Grace?"

Andrew threw his head back, laughing softly, the sound warm and genuine. "You need to sound more interested in what I'm saying. Don't just ask the question, show that you intend to listen to the answer. Show curiosity. Try again."

Lavinia's cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but she nodded, trying to shake off the self-consciousness that had settled over her. She glanced at him, trying to steady her breath and find the right words.

"What is your favorite book, Your Grace?" she asked and smiled. Somehow, his smile had managed to partially ease her tension. "Do you read a lot?"

Andrew's gaze softened, a flicker of approval in his eyes. "Much better," he said. "Now, when you ask that question, you listen closely to my answer. Don't just wait for your turn to speak. A good conversation is a back-and-forth exchange, not a series of questions.

Lavinia nodded, trying to absorb his words. "I suppose you know all about what gentlemen want, Your Grace, considering your...extensive experience," she said, unable to resist the urge to tease him. "I'm sure you have had countless ladies, eager to catch your eye."

"Have I now?" he asked and raised his eyebrows.

Andrew paused, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied her face. A mischievous glint flickered in his gaze, and without warning, he stood up and moved toward her. Lavinia felt a flutter in her chest as he stepped closer, her breath catching in her throat.

"Hold on a moment," he said. Before she could respond, he reached up and gently tugged at two loose curls in her hair, freeing them from their position and allowing them to fall down on either side of her face.

Lavinia's heart skipped a beat as she felt the soft touch of his fingers slightly brush her temple.

If she didn't know any better she would have thought that he was trying to seduce her.

She tried to suppress the wave of warmth that rushed through her, but her cheeks betrayed her, flushing pink.

She quickly looked down, hoping he wouldn't notice her sudden reaction.

Andrew, however, caught the brief flicker of her expression. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he took a step back and surveyed her with approval.

"Much better," he said, with a hint of satisfaction lacing his voice. "You should wear your hair like this for balls. It compliments your eyes beautifully. Also, I will speak to a modiste to style you for the next ball in a week. Red and olive green will suit you perfectly."

"How would you know?" she questioned him.

Andrew's lips curled into a playful smirk as he leaned in slightly. "Because," he began, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "If you were dressed in red, I would be sorely tempted to approach you myself."

Lavinia could feel the heat creeping up her neck, her cheeks flushing a soft pink at his words. She quickly looked away, hoping to hide the blush.

"We'll work on your eye contact much later," he added. "But it's good to blush, Lavinia. Gentlemen love seeing a lady blush. It shows that she's engaged...interested."

Lavinia felt her pulse quicken as she tried to maintain control over her emotions.

She wanted to say something to him, anything to regain the upper hand.

But the words failed her, and instead, she found herself caught in his gaze.

His blue eyes, so intense and unwavering, made her heart race in a way she couldn't ignore.

She quickly turned her attention to the ground, willing her thoughts to clear.

This was all part of the lesson. She repeated it to herself like a mantra.

Andrew wasn't interested in her. But the irritation bubbled up in her chest. The way he spoke to her with such ease, as if they'd known each other for years, grated on her nerves.

He was too comfortable. Too sure of himself.

Lavinia clenched her fists at her sides, trying to steady her breathing.

"Is flirting your entire personality?" she surprised herself by asking.

Andrew raised his eyebrows. "Flirting? I cannot help it if I'm naturally charming, Lavinia."

She rolled her eyes, crossing her arms. "Charming? Is that what you call it?"

He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper. "Oh, I would call it that. But I'd say you're probably just not used to being the object of attention."

Lavinia's pulse quickened, but she masked it with a scoff. "Please, I am hardly impressed."

Andrew inhaled sharply. "You see, you say that, yet your cheeks say otherwise."

Lavinia stood up abruptly, the tension between them thickening in the air. She couldn't stand the way he made her feel, the way his words got under her skin. It was a first, and she hated the feeling.

She curtsied sharply, her movements quick and precise, though her heart still raced. "I'll take my leave now, Your Grace," she said, her voice steady despite the turmoil within her. "Thank you for today's lesson."

Andrew's eyes flickered with amusement, his lips twitching into a knowing smile. "Leaving so soon, Lavinia? I was just starting to enjoy your company."

She refused to look back at him, not trusting herself to respond. Instead, she turned, walking away with as much dignity as she could muster, and praying that she didn't stumble on air.

No man had ever stirred such diverse mixed feelings in her as Andrew had managed to do in the little time they had known each other.