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“ I knew it. Everyone who is any one is here today.” Charlotte whispered in Beatrice’s ear as the women entered the ballroom. “Look! There’s Lord Devlin’s son, I wish I could remember his name. Do you see Sarah? She would remember, that girl was always so good remembering people’s names.”

Beatrice’s eyes were trained on the floor in front of her. The weight that had started in her stomach over breakfast had grown and felt as if it were settled in her feet. With each step she took towards the ballroom she felt as if she were walking towards a guillotine.

“I haven’t seen her. Perhaps she got caught up with Maisie, I can’t imagine having a two year old makes it easier to get ready on time.”

At the mention of her granddaughter’s name Charlotte melted. “Ah, that sweet child. She certainly has those two wrapped around her little finger. Her aunt, too.” Charlotte nudged Beatrice.

She couldn’t help herself, she smiled. Thinking of the curly hair of her darling little niece never failed to make Beatrice smile. She may not want to be a mother, but she couldn’t deny the love she felt when she was around her nieces and nephew.

Beatrice looked up into the swaying crowd of the dancers and the onlookers. If she had to be here, she might as well try to enjoy herself. It helped that the ball was being thrown by Lady Swanson, she always had the best biscuits and her punch was the most refreshing.

“Come, let’s take a walk around, see if we can find your sister.”

Her arm entwined with her mother’s as they made their way around the ballroom. They didn’t find Sarah, but her mother ran into several friends. Beatrice had to laugh. Her mother made friends wherever she went and therefore she was always stopping to talk to someone.

The occurrence was always curious to Beatrice.

Beatrice may always be up for an adventure, she always scoffed at the idea of meeting new people within the peerage.

In Beatrice’s book, meet one person of the peerage, you’ve meet them all.

Yet with Charlotte, she treated everyone as if they invented the printing press.

The doors to the gardens were open letting the cool summer breeze to waft through bringing in the sweet smell of honeysuckle, one of Beatrice’s favorite smells.

Although, there was something else in the air. Beatrice looked around to identify the smell. It was sweet, yet kind of smokey. She took a step to her right and leaned around a portly man who was now talking to her mother.

Her eyes landed on a tall man who was talking with another couple. His head turned and his eyes clashed with hers.

Beatrice gasped. She knew those eyes. She slowly moved back to standing straight. He looked directly at her. Could it be the masked stranger from the other night?

She shifted her feet. She wanted so desperately to lean over and get another look but she didn’t want to be noticed.

“Now that’s just awful news, isn’t it Beatrice?” Her mother’s raised voice brought Beatrice’s eyes to her mother’s.

She raised her eyebrow at her mother. Charlotte hated when Beatrice’s mind wandered, she always blamed the books Beatrice read as crowding her mind causing it to wander. Admitting she wasn’t paying attention would do her more harm than good.

Thankfully, Charlotte knew the confused look well and repeated what she had just heard. “I hope Cecilia gets well soon, but I’m glad her parents sent her to the country for some fresh air. It always does a body wonders. It’s a shame she’ll miss the rest of the season though, right Beatrice?”

Charlotte’s elbow pushed into Beatrice’s side enough for Beatrice to lose her footing causing her to step to the side.

Beatrice’s body hit a familiar brick wall. The smell of sweet smoke filled the air.

The world around her slowed down as her mind caught up with her body. All she had to was tilt her head up and to the right and she would no doubt be staring into the eyes of the masked stranger from last night.

“Your Grace! How nice it is to see you here.” Lord John, the rotund man with whom Charlotte was speaking with piped up.

“I was just telling Her Grace how Lord Granville’s family seem to have taken ill and they are retiring to the country for the rest of the season.

Poor things.” The old man coughed into a handkerchief before wiping his nose and tucking the used material into his sleeve.

He extended his hand to the unmasked masked stranger who just looked at it and turned his body towards Charlotte.

“It is nice to you, again, Your Grace. Will Stoleton be joining us this afternoon?” His voice was deep and soothing, with a light air about it. Nothing like the dark and dangerous tone he had last night.

Perhaps it is not him.

Charlotte shrugged. “He should be. But with a toddler at home their schedules get behind sometimes. And Her Grace insists they be involved in every aspect of that child’s life.

” Charlotte waved her hand with a laugh.

“These new parents and their new ways. All my girls had governesses and nannies to handle the day-to-day things and looked how well they turned out.”

Beatrice felt all eyes turn to her. She was lost in her thoughts dissecting the man next to her, wondering if he was the masked man from last night. Her cheeks heated and her palms began to sweat. She hated being the center of attention.

Her eyes bounced between her mother and Lord John before landing on the man next to her.

She wanted to stand there and study him. There was something about his eyes that drew her in. She heard her mother’s not-so-subtle cough and returned her gaze to Charlotte.

“Um, yes. I think we all turned out just fine, Mama. But I don’t see a problem with parents being more involved with their child’s upbringing. I mean, the child is theirs, they should want to be a part of how he or she grows up.”

Her mother bristled. Beatrice knew she was tiptoeing into dangerous territory considering how their earlier conversation veered into the differences between how her and her mother live their lives.

The older man snorted. “Everyone thinks they know how the world works when they’re still wet behind the ears.

What say you, Graham? You’re a man about town and knows a thing or two.

.” The man eyed the stranger next to her.

“You look a bit young but not as young as some of these dandies who don’t know their way around a ledger. ”

Beatrice’s heart thudded hard against her chest when the man standing next to her smiled.

“Well, as I am not married I can’t speak for how others parents. But, yes, I do know my way around a ledger, amongst other things.”

Beatrice’s eyes widened and to her horror she let out a squeak.

“Oh, where are my manners?” Charlotte said reaching out towards her daughter. “Here we are talking and I haven’t properly introduced you to my daughter. Your Grace, this is my daughter Beatrice. Beatrice, this is His Grace, Ezra Dean, the Duke of Graham.”

Beatrice dipped her head in the Duke’s direction. When she raised her head she found his eyes on her. His pupils were blown, turning his green eyes a darker shade of emerald. She was completely captivated by them.

He dipped his chin without breaking eye contact causing Beatrice’s heart to thud again.

Her clothes suddenly felt too tight and she was having trouble breathing. Did she always stand this way? What should she be doing with her hands? Nervous laughter threatened to bubble out of her. It was as if she forgot how to act in public.

“Nice to meet you,” he said before taking a sip of the punch he was holding. “Although you look familiar. Have we met before?” There was a glint to his eye and a hint of amusement in his question.

Thankfully for Beatrice, who was busy remembering how to form words, Charlotte stepped in. “I don’t think so, Your Grace. Not officially, that is. However, we’ve been to many balls so far this season and there has been much talk about her. Isn’t that right, Beatrice?”

Beatrice’s heart thudded again, however this time was not because of infatuation, but out of embarrassment.

She opened her mouth only to close it again. Heavens, how could this be any more embarrassing for her. First she’s caught ogling this man and now her mother is parading her out in front of him.

“And now that Lord Granville’s family is out sick, I hear Beatrice is the one to watch for. Quick, Your Grace, you should ask her for a dance before her card gets filled up.” Charlotte teased.

Beatrice could feel the color drain from her face. This is it. This is how she would die. Not on some grand adventure in the Serengeti but here, in Lady Swanson’s ballroom.

The nervous laughter erupted out of Beatrice and she waved her hands in front of her face. “Oh no. I’m sure the Duke has already committed himself to other dance partners. I wouldn’t want to impose-”

“I would love to.”

“We just got here and I’m sure he… wait. What?”

A smile widened on his face. “I said I would love to.”

Beatrice blinked, completely shocked at the turn of events.

Charlotte clasped her hands tightly. “Wonderful!”

“Let me just put down my cup and I’ll be back to join you.” The Duke tilted his head and made his way to the refreshment table to set down his glass.

The two women watched as he walked back to them.

Beatrice leaned into her mother. “Mother. I don’t know this man! What are you doing?”

Charlotte rolled her bottom lip in thought.

“Now is not the time to worry about all of that.” Charlotte tucked an errant curl behind Beatrice’s ear.

Beatrice must have looked out of sorts. “Look. Like most men his age and background some view him as a rake, but nothing scandalous.” Charlotte glanced back to the approaching man.

“Nothing that I have caught wind of at least.”

Memories of tongues touching and gripping hands flashed before Beatrice’s eyes. Charlotte eyed her daughter. “Just go and dance with the man. It’ll be fine.”

Graham returned and offered his arm. “May I?”