Page 15 of The Duke's Vice

He licked his lips, a movement Beatrice couldn’t help but notice.

“No.” He said plainly.

Beatrice reared back. “What do you mean ‘no’? It is my list. You must at least destroy it. It is of no use to you.”

“Correction, it was your list. It’s now in my possession, therefore it is mine.”

Beatrice ran her hands down her face. “Possession has nothing to do with it. I wrote it, it’s mine. I demand you either give it back or you destroy it.”

The Duke snorted. “As a landowner, and a Duke, I can legally justify the claim of possession as ownership. Shall we consult a solicitor?” He teased.

Beatrice was losing patience with this conversation and thankfully, Graham must’ve sensed her frustration.

“I’ll give you your list back, and you have my word no one will find out its contents from me, but,” he held up a hand that quelled her excitement, “you need to answer a question first.”

Beatrice groaned. “Why must everything be a transaction with you?”

Graham smiled. “I’m a businessman. It’s what I do. Why must everything be an argument with you?” He countered.

Beatrice’s blood began to boil. Never had a man, or anyone for that matter, been able to get under her skin to the point of driving her to madness. She quite literally began to worry for her sanity.

Beatrice took a deep breath and pushed it out. “Fine.” She held out her arms to her side in question. “Ask your question.”

The Duke’s eyes lit up causing Beatrice to instantly regret her decision.

“There are some rather scandalous items on your list.” He started.

“Is that a question?” She deadpanned. This man was insufferable.

Graham rolled his lips. He knew he was getting to her and she hated that. She needed to be better at hiding her feelings, her facial expressions and body language always gave her away. It’s one of the reasons why she never played cards with her sisters.

“My question is why.”

His question was simple in nature, but the answer had sent her mind reeling. She had only just told her mother about her life’s plan of being a spinster, there was no way she was going to admit that to a man she just met.

Although, he promised not to tell anyone about the list, would he give her the same allowance with this information? But would it matter if he disclosed this information to others? She had every intention of retiring after this season so soon everyone would know she was destined for a life of spinsterhood.

The Duke waved his hands in front of her face. “Lady Beatrice? You’re not blinking. Are you well?”

Beatrice pushed his hand away from her space. “Yes, I’m well. What do you take me for?”

Graham shrugged. “I don’t know. I asked you a question and you just stood there staring at me like I had grown a second head.”

“I was processing my response.” She said, defensively.

“Well your processing face looks like you lost all sense of consciousness.” He quipped.

Beatrice’s vision turned red. “You have a lot of nerve-”

“I do.” He said, quite pleased with himself.

She grumbled. “Must you interrupt me!”

Her voice carried across the veranda and had the now mingled group of young men and women turning to look at the pair.

Graham raised his glass to them in amusement.

“Is something amiss, Lady Beatrice?” One of the girls asked.

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