Page 45 of To Defend a Damaged Duke
A little too late, Tommy realised he had underestimated his dance partner.Beatrice Hazard’s eyes were sharp enough to see through a millstone, never mind rummage through his thoughts.“Forgive me,” he tried, “but how could one possibly deduce all that from a brief exchange of pleasantries in a receiving line?”
“Because I miss very little, Mr L’Esquire,” she confirmed unnecessarily.Once again, she impaled him on the end of her inquisitive blue gaze.“And because, having the misfortune to be of the weaker sex in the company of men, one is expected to say little of any value and think even less.Thus, one’s powers of observation are frequently dismissed as inferior.”
Beatrice accomplished an elegantchassébefore continuing.“For instance, I have observed, Mr L’Esquire, that whilst you and I have been performing a creditable quadrille, your regard has landed on my perfectly acceptable features only once, and on my modest decolletage not at all.And if I were to ask you to close your eyes and describe the colour of my ballgown, I don’t believe you would have the foggiest.And yet, you would be able to tell me His Grace’s exact location to within a foot of where he is currently pretending to woo Mrs de Villiers.And also, the precise number of buttons adorning his very fine new waistcoat.And if I could also add—”
“I think, my lady, you have added quite enough,” spluttered Tommy, his stomach dropping to the floor.
Alas, the blasted woman hadn’t yet finished.
“Mr L’Esquire, I beg you not to interrupt—it is a habit gentlemen have around ladies, and it is most tiresome.”
“Please accept my sincere apologies.”
If, at that moment, he’d dared look into her rather fine sea glass eyes, he would have detected amusement brimming there.
“Accepted.I was only going to finish by adding that I don’t give two figs that you are hopelessly besotted with him.I only hope you make him happy.Because God knows nobody else can.”
*
TOMMY STAGGERED INTOthe garden, immediately heading away from the lamplit terrace to make a beeline towards the shaded flower beds, where he might find a few minutes alone to compose himself.It wasn’t often someone managed to wrong-foot him, but Beatrice Hazard had done it with ease.And so charmingly too.
“Here to admire the begonias?”
A thrill ran through Tommy’s veins.“As long as that eagle-eyed woman isn’t following me, yes.My head feels like a bouncing ball.”
“You have my sympathies,” the duke commiserated.“Beatrice has that effect on most men.It’s a deliberate ploy to ensure she maintains her spinsterhood.”
“She’s…ah…at no risk of having that purloined by me.”
Tommy looked up to where Benedict casually leaned against an old stone wall, dappled in clouded moonlight and hidden from anyone glancing out from the terrace.A half-empty glass of claret hung from one of his hands, the other tucked in his pocket.Tommy suddenly found himself grinning.
“You know,” Benedict observed, casting his gaze around.“This spot was created for a lover’s tryst.”
Breathing in the cold night air, Tommy took up a position next to him, then rested his head back against the cool stone.“Yes, it is perfect for a romantic rendezvous.”
“I am famous for contriving them.”Benedict laughed.“In my own head, at least.There, I have dreamed up thousands.In reality, this is the first.”
Tommy twisted to look up at him.His handsomeness stole the words from Tommy’s mouth.He couldn’t understand why every woman in the place didn’t find themselves similarly mute.Or maybe they did, but the duke was oblivious.“You were loitering here in hope?”
With a swallow of wine, Benedict shook his head before passing the glass to Tommy.“Truthfully?No, though I could be persuaded.”He took a deep inhale of the cool night air.“I came out here to escape.I’ve gallivanted around that damned ballroom so many times with so many different partners, I’ve made myself seasick.He wiped his fingers across his brow.“Not to mention I’m baptised in my own sweat.”
With a chuckle, Tommy handed back the glass.“You are becoming less romantic by the minute, Your Grace.”
“I’ll happily drown in a bath of everyone’s sweat if all this dancing and coquetry prevents Lyndon tarnishing our family name, allowing Francis to marry Isabella.”Benedict let out a long sigh.“Though it’s damned hard work.”
“Be cheered that it appears to be having some impression.In the receiving room, I overheard one matron discussing you and Mrs de Villiers in a suitably scandalised voice.To which her companion remarked—disapprovingly—that you had also been paying close attention to Lady Wardholme.Which was courageous of you.”
“The woman is terrifying.She has an extra, hidden set of hands especially reserved for the polka.”Benedict’s own warm fingers slipped between Tommy’s.“My courage should be rewarded, should it not?”His voice was barely above a whisper.“Perhaps a reward of the romantic tryst variety?”
The duke’s lips were soft, cool, and moist.He tasted of claret and smelled of fresh rainfall.As his strong arms looped around Tommy, Tommy hungrily sank into the kiss.
“You called me by my name,” whispered the duke around his mouth.“Benedict.You said it once.Like a sigh.As you spilled into my hand.I shall never forget the sound of it.”
Anything more than this single hurried kiss was fraught with danger.Even that was foolhardy.
“And I fear I shall do both again if you kiss me like that,” Tommy answered, “and insist on laying your hands there.”
With a final lick of his tongue into Benedict’s sweet mouth, Tommy groaned and pulled away.He halted the path of the duke’s hand, trailing down his belly, by bringing it up to his lips.“We must go,” he urged.“Your absence will soon be noted, seeing as you are cutting such a swathe through the ballroom.”
