Page 48 of The Duke's Vice

Sarah laughed before Eleanor’s eyes cut to her quelling her laughter.

“I know you don’t, but right now you’re not thinking. You think your conversations with the Duke are just that, conversations. But in the eyes of thetonyou are acting as if he is courting you.”

Eleanor stopped and took a step forward. “Is he?”

Beatrice wrinkled her nose. “No! How many times, to how many people,” she said with a look towards Sarah, “do I need to say that just because I danced with the man twice and had a few conversations with him it does not mean that I plan on marrying him? In fact, the more I talk with the man, the more my stance on marrying has not changed.”

Beatrice’s sisters both let out a sigh of relief, an action that irritated Beatrice for a reason she couldn’t name.

“Well that’s something at least.” Eleanore smiled. “Come, let’s go back to the parlor before Jane eats all the sweets.”

“Eleanor, don’t make me lecture you about commenting on my friend’s eating habits. You’re really turning into Mama.” Beatrice jested.

Eleanor gasped in mock horror. “You take that back!”

Beatrice walked back into the parlor, giggling with her sisters. And while she was enjoying their carefree exchange she couldn’t stop wondering why the notion of her sisters being relieved she wasn’t after the Duke bothered her.

CHAPTER 13

Charlotte took a deep breath, releasing it with a sigh. “I just love coming to the opera. Don’t you, Beatrice?”

Beatrice looked around nervously. This was the first time she’d been to the opera since her sister’s dinner party the other night. She hadn’t heard from the Duke since then, surely he would have sent word confirming if something were to happen tonight.

A woman’s laughter startled her as her mother led her through the throngs of people milling in the lobby. An attendant ushered them into their box where Beatrice sat stiffly next to her mother.

“Beatrice? What has come over you? You are acting very peculiar tonight.” Charlotte’s expressions did not match her concern. She waved and smiled to friends and dignitaries in nearby boxes. “Please tell me you’re not coming down with something. I have it on good authority that your dance card will be full at the next ball.”

Charlotte flicked her wrist at Lord Devlin’s box. Beatrice’s eyes landed on a very nervous looking man who sat just as stiffly next to his father. She rolled her lips. He looked dull and boring, like most of the suitors that her mother had lined up for her.

Just then a curtain moved a few boxes down from her’s, pulling her attention. The Duke of Graham entered his box and sat in the back row, middle seat.

Odd he isn’t sitting in the front seats.

As he settled into this chair he casually turned his head and looked directly at Beatrice. She watched as his head tilted as he took her in, a small, knowing smile graced his lips.

Beatrice shifted in her seat. Under his watchful eye, her heart began to race. Suddenly she couldn’t sit still. No matter which way she rested her feet, or placed her hands, nothing felt comfortable.

“Beatrice,” Charlotte whispered. “Stop fidgeting. The show is about to start. I don’t want you pulling focus.”

Beatrice kept her eyes on Graham. It was now or never.

“I’m sorry, Mama. I’m suddenly very warm. I think I’m going to slip out into the lobby for some fresh air.”

Charlotte’s eyes darted between the stage and her daughter. “What? Now? But the show is starting!”

Beatrice shook off her worry. “Would you rather I pass out here in the box or go to the lobby to ensure I’m here for the second act?”

Charlotte grimaced. “Fine. But if you’re not back for the second act you can rethink the series of books I said you could buy.”

Beatrice stopped short. “I promise, Mama. I’ll be back. It just awfully hot in here and I don’t want to embarrass you. Trust me, you put my books on the line. I will return.”

Her mother gave her a doubtful look but waved her on.

The house lights began to dim as Beatrice walked into the dimly lit hallway. She looked both ways, up and down the hallway, before she made her way towards the Duke’s box. Usually there were attendants standing outside the boxes in case someone needed something but, thankfully, the hallway was clear.

She stood at the door to the box and took several calming breaths. The written words of her favorite scene flooded her mind. She had thought about acting that scene out more times than she could count but standing here, on the precipice of it actually coming true was overwhelming.

Murmurs sounded from further down the hall, someone was coming.

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