Page 44 of The Duke's Vice

Sarah waved her mother off. “Yes, everything’s fine with them.” She turned and looked at Beatrice and she winced.

“Beatrice. The Duke of Graham is here.”

Beatrice looked between her mother and her sister. “Should this concern me?”

Sarah and Charlotte exchanged looks.

Charlotte’s whole body heaved with her sigh. “I told you, Beatrice.”

Ignoring her mother’s dramatics Beatrice looked back to Sarah. “What is she talking about? Why does it matter that the Duke of Graham is here? Didn’t you know who you were inviting to your own dinner party?”

Sarah rolled her eyes. “Well, yes. I know who I invited, but I didn’t know who Charles invited.”

Beatrice still didn’t know how Graham being here should concern her.

“But he’s investing in a venture with Charles so Charles invited him.”

Beatrice took a sip of her punch, nonplussed.

“Beatrice! Are you daft? Have you not been hearing what people are saying?” Sarah exclaimed.

Beatrice’s heart slowed. “People? What are people saying?”

Sarah looked at her mother for help but the woman was too busy fanning herself with a napkin.

Her sister took a deep breath. “It’s nothing too serious… as of yet. But people are starting to note that you and the Duke of Graham spend a lot of time together.”

Beatrice took a breath of relief. No one was talking about their midnight rendezvous at the masked party, only about them dancing. That she could handle.

“Sarah.” She said pointedly. “First of all, we danced and talked at two balls. Oh no! Quick write the banns.” She added an eye roll for emphasis. “And secondly, he’s a Duke, should you have me shun him and not accept his invitation to dance?”

Sarah’s eyes bulged. “That’s just it, Beatrice. He doesn’t usually enter into conversations willingly and he has done so with you.” She stuck another finger up in the air. “And two, he never dances and he’s danced twice with you!”

Beatrice tried the trick of standing in awkward silence with her sister, hoping Sarah was like her mother and would change the subject to something less scandalous. It didn’t work.

“Are you going to say anything?” Sarah cried.

Beatrice shrugged. “What would you have me say? If it were anyone else it wouldn’t register with anyone but because he’s a Duke you are all up in arms.”

Sarah looked at Charlotte sheepishly. “I’m not all up in arms. I just wanted you to know people are talking and where’s there talk, there’s rumors. And where’s there’s rumors, there’s ruins-”

“Don’t say the word!” Charlotte gasped.

Beatrice grimaced. “Oh, Mama. It’s not like by saying the word makes it happen.”

Charlotte’s gaze flew to Beatrice. “Why risk it? All Sarah is saying is to be careful. I told you while the Duke is well respected and reputable, he is seen in some not-so-reputable places and is known to have questionable tastes. You are not granted such allowances. Please be mindful of your reputation.”

Beatrice tightened her grip on her glass she was afraid she’d break it. She was tired of the double standards that allowed men to do as they please with women, but the same women had no such freedom.

It was another reason why the life of a spinster was so appealing to her. The idea she would only have herself to answer to was invigorating.

If she could only complete her list she would feel better about the next phase of her life.

As if the devil heard his cue, Graham walked into the parlor.

It was as if all the air was sucked out of the room and she was standing in a vacuum. There was no one but him, no where else to look but to where he was, no other sound, but the sound of his voice.

“Lady Beatrice.” Graham’s voice spoke to her.

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