Page 49 of Saved By the Rakish Duke

“Come in!”

Penelope pushed the door open to find His Grace standing in the middle of a—mostly—empty ballroom. As she entered, His Grace bowed dramatically.

“Is there a reason we're having our lessonhere, Your Grace?” she chuckled, returning his bow with a curtsy.

“Tsk, tsk, Lady Pen.” He clicked his tongue. “You should know by now that I prefer that our rehearsals be as realistic as possible.”

The duke strode towards one of the windows and finished pulling back the last of the curtains, allowing the golden sunlight to flood every corner of the room.

Penelope stretched her arms above her head, bathing in the comforting warmth of the yellowish-orange glow.

“Is Her Grace going to host a ball this Season?” she asked, inspecting the ornately decorated walls.

“Oh, we haven’t hosted a ball since Father passed away,” explained His Grace. “We still attend them, of course, but he and Mother used to revel in their hosting duties rather seriously, so planning a ball without him is too unbearable.”

His reply reminded Penelope of her own mother, who still seemed to be avoiding her.

“Right.” He clasped his hands together signaling that they were ready to begin. “Any guesses as to what today’s lesson shall cover, Lady Pen?”

She looked around the room once more for a clue, but the only one she had at the moment was right where they stood—in the center of the ballroom floor. “Er... is it dancing?” she asked half-jokingly.

“Well, dancing does fall under it, yes,” the duke shrugged, “but based on the events of the dinner party, I thought it would be best if we covered how to differentiate between viable prospects and unsuitable ones.”

“Your Grace...” Penelope let out a sigh, “I appreciate the sentiment, but don’t you think this lesson would be better suited for younger women with prospects queuing out the door for the—as opposed to a spinster like me with very few options to begin with?”

“Whether you have two suitors lined up or a hundred, you still need to learn how to discern the best option,” he reminded her. “And stop being so hard on yourself. Yes, you may technically be considered a spinster, but you are first and foremost a noblewoman of good standing and breeding. As such, it is your birthright to marry well.”

“Very well, Your Grace.” She smiled, “But you’ll forgive me for worrying that I’ll be able to get married at all at this rate.”

He scoffed at this remark. “If our combined strengths somehow fail to land a husband for a lady as fair and intelligent as you, then it means you really were destined by Providence to be a spinster.”

She folded her arms. “So generous with the compliments today, Your Grace. I presume you had a rather profitable day at the Stock Exchange?”

“At the races yesterday actually,” the duke sheepishly answered, “but let's not get side-tracked. What is the first thing you notice about a gentleman who approaches you?”

Penelope paused to think her answer over. “Er, I suppose I tend to look at his face?”

“That is, of course, the move that comes most naturally to us.” He raised a finger. “But it is, however, a mistake to rely on this as your main source of a person’s intentions.”

“I see.” Penelope tilted her head, unable to stop herself from smiling at how seriously His Grace was taking this.

With both hands behind his back as he paced to and fro, her instructor continued, “For you see, when a gentleman addresses you directly, most of the movements on his face are calculated: his polite smile, extra attentive eyes, and so on and so forth.”

“So then where else am I supposed to look?” she asked, furrowing her eyebrows.

“Everywhere,” His Grace answered. “The uprightness of his shoulders, what direction his feet are pointed in, how carefully—or carelessly—he grips his glass. These actions shall tell you the truth because he himself isn’t thinking about them, and therefore can't use them to lie to you.”

“In other words...” Penelope interjected, “there’s intentional body language that people use for flirting—as covered in our first lesson. But then there’s unintentional body language, that is, behavior that people themselves aren’t even aware of?”

“Now you’re getting it.” Her instructor beamed at her.

“As fascinating as thissounds, Your Grace...” Penelope allowed her shoulders to slump, “I have an inkling it will be rather tedious to execute.”

“It won’t be if you focus on one target at a time,” he assured her. “If we try it out, you’ll be able to see what I mean. Let’s say you have just arrived at the ball and the host introduces you to a gentleman. See what you can learn about me from our ‘first’ exchange.”

Humoring him, Penelope did as she was told and exchanged greetings with this ‘new gentleman’.

“So how do you know the host and hostess?” he asked, prompting her to make something up.

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