Page 10 of The Duke's Vice

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’mglad 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.

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