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L ady Joynor swept along the side of the ballroom, side-eyeing anyone who would dare look bored at her ball. It was utmost importance that everyone not only enjoy themselves at her soirees but do so in such a manner that her ball would be the highlight of the season.

Beatrice could feel Lady Joynor’s eyes on her as she fiddled with the lace that lined her neckline.

She cringed when she saw her maid lay out this particular dress.

The lace was itchy and the fabric was stiff but her mother swore it was her most flattering dress.

So, here she was, scratching at herself with Lady Joynor staring daggers at her.

After all, if you’re scratching, you’re not dancing.

“Oh, look Beatrice.” Charlotte leaned into her daughter. “Lord Devlin’s son is here again.” She brought her fan up to hide her face. “We never did figure out his name, did we?”

Beatrice sighed and sank on her heels. “Nor do I care to, Mama.”

Charlotte huffed while she fanned herself. “You promised me, my sweet.”

Beatrice bristled under the reminder.

“Besides, what harm can it do? We’re at a ball, a Joynor ball at that.

If you don’t dance until your feet hurt you haven’t done enough.

” Charlotte whispered with a giggle. “Why don’t you go wander over in his direction.

Perhaps you’ll catch his eye and he’ll ask for a dance.

After all you look positively stunning tonight and with Cecilia out of the picture you are the season’s newest diamond. ” Charlotte said with a sly smile.

Beatrice wrinkled her nose. No one bestowed the title of the season’s newest diamond on her but her mother. Yes, she’s heard her name circulating around the marriage mart more than she cared to but it was nowhere near the fanfare Cecilia had at the beginning of the season.

“Very well, Mama. If anything, it’ll get Lady Joynor to stalk someone else. I swear she’s passed us four times and each time her sneer gets larger.”

Charlotte smiled as she dipped her head and moved to the outer wall.

Beatrice walked toward a group of young men huddled in the corner.

Luckily for her they were by an open door, where a nice breeze entered.

It was becoming too hot in the ballroom and having the excuse of standing near an open doorway was a good way to strike up a conversation with Lord Devlin’s son.

Heavens. I don’t even know this man’s name.

Beatrice’s eye wandered around the ballroom, hoping to see someone she could ask. Perhaps Jane was here, maybe she remembered his name.

As Beatrice’s head swiveled from side to side looking for a familiar face her steps carried her into the middle of the ballroom.

Dancers circled her and long skirts swept at her feet.

“I keep finding you in the oddest of places.”

Beatrice’s heart fluttered.

She turned and looked up, straight into emerald green eyes, full of mischief and jest.

“Your Grace.” She tilted her chin. “How lovely to see you here.”

Graham looked around with a flippant smile. “In the middle of the dancefloor?”

Beatrice took in the couples still circling her, some of them looking at her in confusion.

“Oh my! I had no idea I wandered into the dance. I was looking for someone.”

Beatrice felt her cheeks heat as embarrassment washed over her.

“You were looking for someone,” Graham said with a raised eyebrow.

“Uh, I, um… yes. A friend. Jane.” She felt it important to let him know it was a female friend and not a male friend. Even though she wanted the female friend to tell her the name of a male acquaintance but Graham didn’t need to know that. Was he an acquaintance if she didn’t remember his name?

“You often stare into space. Did you know that?” Graham’s voice interrupted her train of thought.

“Hmm?”

Graham smiled. “Never mind. Well, as I see it Lady Beatrice, you have two options. You can continue on your journey to seek your friend or you can stay here and dance this next dance with me.”

Beatrice guffawed. “With you?”

Graham straightened his back. “Yes, with me.” He looked around. “Who else is risking ridicule by standing in the middle of a ballroom while people dance around just to talk?”

Beatrice nibbled on her bottom lip. “I just mean… you want to dance with me?”

Graham took a step closer to her. “I don’t offer things I do not want.”

The world titled on its axis and Beatrice found herself leaning towards him. His pull was undeniable.

“What say you?” He offered his hand.

Beatrice’s eyes drifted down to his hand then back up to his eyes.

She nodded as her hand slipped into his. He pulled her closer just as the musicians began to play the next song.

“I’m glad you chose the dance. Lady Joynor was staring at us. I was almost certain she was going to come out here and make us dance whether you wanted to or not.”

Beatrice blushed. “Well, then, I am glad I accepted your offer. That would have been quite the spectacle.”

Graham’s eyes darkened as a devilish grin appeared. “Yes, I would think we’ve had enough spectacle for the week, wouldn’t you agree?”

Beatrice gasped as her eyes peered around the room. “Shh, someone may hear you.”

Graham laughed. “Hear me say what? Spectacle?” His voice rose with the last word.

Beatrice lowered her head and tried to look out of the corner of her eyes to see if anyone was looking. So far, no one was watching.

“It’s not like I’m talking about any specific spectacle in particular. Now, if I were to say the word ‘party,’ or ‘mask,’” Graham paused for a moment. “Or I suppose even ‘couch,’ now those words may bring some unwanted interest our way.”

With each word Beatrice’s head sunk lower and lower. If she could she roll into a ball and roll right out of the room she would. She looked up to see Lady Joynor watching with her with interest.

Beatrice straightened up under her watchful eye and offered a small smile in the woman’s direction. Being on Lady Joynor’s bad side did no one any favors.

“Tell me, little mouse, are you ashamed of your actions the other night?” Graham’s question was softer as he leaned into her.

Beatrice bit her bottom lip and shook her head. “No. But just because I’m not doesn’t mean I want others to know what activities I engage in.”

Graham considered her response as he turned her around the outside of the dance floor then back into the middle.

“Well, because of your actions, it’s not like you were engaged in anything too scandalous.” He lifted a shoulder. “If you would have behaved, well, then I guess you would have something to hide from eavesdroppers.”

Beatrice’s body heated at the memory. Her thighs clenched as phantom touches caressed her thighs and stomach. She blocked out the swaying of skirts and the song of the violins so she could remember the feel of his lips felt on her throat. She shuddered within his grasp.

“To think what might have been.” His words tickled her ear.

She looked up to find humor in his eyes and grimaced.

“I still think it was complete rubbish. You said no touching other people, not that I couldn’t touch myself. You made up a rule as we went. That is cheating.” She pouted.

Graham lifted her chin with one finger. “It is either my way, or no way, Lady Beatrice. You knew that going in. Do you wish to renege on our deal?”

Beatrice quickly shook her head. “No… I just wish you laid out all of the rules ahead of time in a clear and concise manner.”

Graham hummed. “I’ll take that under advisement.”

The parting notes of the song ended and Beatrice found herself wanting to continue. Even though they were arguing, she’d rather argue with him than dance with anyone else.

As couples began to leave the dance floor she secretly prayed that the musicians would start again quickly so they could just continue.

While still in his arms, he looked down to her. His eyes searched hers leaving her breathless.

“It is rather warm in here. Would you like a drink, Lady Beatrice?” His voice was rough and sent goosebumps down her arms.

She took his offered arm as he escorted her towards the refreshments.

He walked her past the group of young men she was originally walking towards and past her friend Jane with other young women.

She noticed a few looks their way but for the most part her attention was directed to the man at her side.

He moved with grace and agility, yet with a sense of power and authority that only came from experience and privilege.

After pouring them each a drink he gestured to the open door. They stood just inside, well in view of others so not to start any untoward rumors.

Graham looked around quickly. “I’ve been meaning to ask you a question about your list.”

At the mention of her list Beatrice’s body stilled. She, too, looked around but thankfully found that most had deserted the refreshment table for the next dance.

She nodded her head. “Go on.”

Nerves raced up her spine. She couldn’t deny the knowledge of knowing he had possession of her list felt too intimate and significant.

Graham leisurely leaned against the door jamb. “The opera scene.”

Giggles bubbled out of Beatrice. “What of it?”

The Duke raised his hands in question. “What is it? Where is it from? How am I supposed to help you recreate that scene if I have never heard of it?”

Beatrice took a breathe as the cool summer breeze wafted past her. In her stiff dress, she welcomed the kiss of the cool summer’s air on her skin. Which was perfect because just thinking of ‘the opera scene’ was enough to shoot white hot heat through her veins.

Her skin began to heat despite the breeze.

“It’s from a book.” She took a sip of her punch, hoping to cool herself from the inside.

Graham chuckled. “A book, you say?” He cocked his head to the side. “I read a lot of books, Lady Beatrice. I’m not sure which book you are referencing.”

Beatrice wished for her mother’s fan to hide her face. “It was one of my sister’s, Sarah’s, books. She loves reading stories of love, especially forbidden romance.”

Graham’s eyes darkened. “Forbidden romance?”