Page 9

“ M ust you go?” Candace asked as she worried her thumbnail.

“Last time you were lucky and nothing happened, but there’s no guarantee you’ll be safe this time around.

What if you meet someone else who doesn’t have your best interest at heart and takes advantage of you?

” The last of her question came out in a hurried whisper.

Beatrice lifted the hood over her head. She took one more look in the mirror to make sure her hair was tucked under the hood. The mask she found amongst her sister Sarah’s old things hung heavy in her pocket. She was sure to get into the party this time.

“I’ll be fine. I’m more familiar with the street now, and no one bothered me until I bumped into that man. I’ll be more aware now.”

That cursed man. She hadn’t been able to stop thinking of him since the ball yesterday afternoon. Normally she didn’t mind someone occupying her thoughts for a bit, but she couldn’t decide if she wanted to smack him or ask him to kiss her again.

She grimaced at her reflection. She would smack him so hard the smug arrogance would leave his body. Perhaps then, and only then, she would ask for another kiss.

The thought of both smacking him and kissing him had her smiling.

“I’m still not sure about this and I’m regretting helping you. If your mother found out I would out of a job.” Candace paced behind her.

Beatrice took Candace’s hands in her own to steady her maid.

“I promise you, regardless how tonight ends, if I’m caught, I will say I overheard a conversation at a ball, which is somewhat true.

Men are always talking openly in front of women as if we don’t have ears and an ability to understand words.

” The inequality women faced on a day-to-day basis was grating but Beatrice had no qualms in using it for her advantage.

“No. Do I look like I belong?” Beatrice took a turn in front of Candace.

Her maid lifted her shoulders. “You look like Lady Beatrice to me. I’m not sure how one should look to go to one of these parties. I’ve only heard about them through gossip.”

Beatrice chewed on her bottom lip. “Well, I have a mask now,” she patted her pocket. “Hopefully that’s enough to help me blend in. Apparently I looked too naive last time.”

Her body whirled at the memories of being held against him during their kiss and their dance. Thankful for the hood for covering her blush, she cleared her throat and faced Candace.

“Wish me luck.”

The streets were less crowded than the previous night. There were several society events that most likely pulled revelers to, making it harder to blend with those around her. She turned onto Water Street and fastened her mask, shielding the top half of her face from the people around her.

Without fear of being recognized due to her mask and hood she walked freely, with her head up.

She assumed the affect would exude confidence and therefore help her blend in.

She reached 110 Water Street and found herself in the exact spot where she first met Graham.

Her body stopped as phantom touches raked over her body.

Gooseflesh erupted down her arms, and her body felt electric.

She gave into the sensation for a brief moment before she refocused on her goal.

She was close to checking off number three on her list, see the wild side of London.

She turned to her right to see a house sitting further back from the rest of the row, which is probably why she didn’t see it the other night.

With a deep breath she walked forward, holding her head high, repeating the mantra, I belong here. I belong here. I belong here.

“You don’t belong here.” A deep voice startled her.

She looked up to see a monster of a man standing in front of a dimly lit doorway. “Excuse me?” She winced at the squeak in her voice.

“I said, you don’t belong here.” The man was built like a boulder, his stance was wider than the doorframe. “I know everyone who is allowed to into this establishment and I don’t know you.”

Beatrice thought quickly. “I’m new, just invited. It’s no fun with the same people over and over again. The host decided to inject some new blood into the scene.”

Crossing her fingers under her cloak she had hoped her comment, which had come from the current mystery novel she was reading, would work.

The door man harrumphed. “Invitation?”

Buzzing sounded off in between her ears. “Excuse me?”

“If you’ve been invited you must have an invitation. All new guests are instructed to bring their invitations with them. You would know that if you had received your invitation.”

Beatrice rolled her lips.

Remain calm. This could be a trick. What if there isn’t instructions on an invitation? But what if it there was? What if there was no invitation at all? Did Graham mention an invitation at the ball?

The rock of a man laughed. “I was right. You don’t belong here. Be gone.”

Beatrice cleared her throat. “I forgot it. Surely, this isn’t the first time someone has forgotten their invitation. I’m new after all.” She plastered the biggest smile on her face, hoping to persuade the man to move.

It did not work. He continued to stare past her as if she no longer existed.

She huffed. “Fine. I’ll go all the way back to my home to retrieve it and I’ll be back.”

He shook his head. “Very well.”

She blinked. “Aaaall the way back,” she exaggerated her words for emphasis. “I won’t be back for another hour or so and I’ll miss most of the party.” Her words whined, and annoyed even her, but she hoped she could still convince him to let her in.

“How unfortunate for you.” He remained unmoved in his stance.

She groaned. “Fine. I’ll return with my invitation and then you’ll be sorry you didn’t let me in!”

The man looked at her pointedly. “I highly doubt that.”

She huffed as she turned to walk away but not before looking at the sides of the home to see if there were other points of entry.

Her latest mystery novel had a chapter on the heroine climbing through a window.

Unfortunately for her, the windows all had very pointy looking shrubbery in front of them.

My goodness, what goes on in there that it needs a door man the size of a cathedral and lethal shrubs in front of windows?

The security only made her want to go in more. Which meant she needed to do the one thing she did not want to do, take Graham up on his offer. Perhaps she could add in an amendment to smack him every time he annoyed her. The thought alone made the idea of going to him more amenable.

“What a lovely day for a stroll. I just love these cooler summer days, don’t you Beatrice?” Charlotte strolled with her arm entwined with her daughter’s while Candace and Charlotte’s maid, Elizabeth, followed behind them.

Beatrice gave a noncommittal response. She couldn’t stop thinking about how she would get in contact with the Duke of Graham.

She could easily ask her mother, but then she would have to give a reason why she needed it and she didn’t want to open pandora’s box.

She could ask Candace to find out the address, but her maid already felt too involved with her scandalous list she didn’t want to burden her any further.

“Oh, look, it’s the Duke of Graham!” Charlotte’s voice was like a punch to the stomach.

Beatrice’s eyes flew up to take in the tall duke leaning against a tree they were walking towards. He gave off the air of casual aloofness that bothered Beatrice for some reason, yet made Charlotte gravitate towards him all the more.

Charlotte paid no mind to the fact that she was dragging Beatrice in his direction. “Good morning, Your Grace. What brings you out on this gorgeous day?”

Beatrice groaned at her mother’s overly friendly demeanor.

If she only knew what kind of man he truly was, she wouldn’t be parading Beatrice in front of him.

She glanced at her mother from the corner of her eyes.

Or would she? It was no secret her mother would go to any lengths to see her daughters married.

“Just enjoying the day which keeps getting more beautiful the more I experience it.”

Charlotte’s shrill laugh had couples turning in their direction. Beatrice closed her eyes and wished for death to take her.

“Oh, I’ve heard you are ever the charmer.” Charlotte covered her face with her fluttering her fan. “Isn’t he the charmer, Beatrice?”

Beatrice scowled. “Yes. So charming.” She said with little emotion.

Undeterred Graham extended his arm. “May I escort you ladies on your walk?”

Beatrice tightened her arm around her mother’s, hoping her mother would pick up on her unease.

She did not.

“That would be lovely. Here. Why don’t you walk with Beatrice? I have some things I want to discuss with my maid.”

Charlotte untangled her arm from Beatrice and took a step backwards, looking at both of them expectantly.

Beatrice refused to move and the blasted man just stood there with a stupid smile on his face. He knew he had the upper hand here and Beatrice had no option but to take his offered arm.

She refused to acknowledge the thrill of excitement that rushed through her veins as her arm slipped through his.

“How are you faring this morning, Lady Beatrice” His tone was conversational.

Playing the part of polite society, Beatrice smiled and dipped her head. “I am well, Your Grace, thank you.”

“That is good to hear. I would have thought you would be in sour spirits this morning after what happened last night.”

Her eyes drifted up to his smirking face. “What do you mean? What happened last night?”

Graham kept his eyes on the road ahead of him. Casually acknowledging those who passed them.

“It was the second time you did not cross off the third item on your list. Although, you did make it to the door this time.”

Beatrice’s body stiffened next to his. “How do you know about that?”