Page 14 of The Desire of a Duchess
“He admired you.” Melinda bit into another biscuit. It was likely she’d eat the entire tin.
“No, definitely not. If anything, he found me—” Beatrice searched for the right word. “Loathsome. Blythe is quite handsome. Golden, if you will. His manner is that of an overindulged Labrador whom everyone adores. Young ladies, upon spying him, would wave their fans in a furious way to keep themselves from fainting at the sight of such magnificence.”
“Hmm.” Melinda’s brows drew together.
“Not me, mind you,” Beatrice assured her. “But plenty of others.”
“I’m surprised you noticed, surrounded, as you were, by your own throng of admirers, Your Grace. At least from what you’ve told me of your time in London. Did it matter that Lord Blythe paid you little attention?”
It had.It did.
“You must remember, Melinda. I was a stunningjewelof a woman. A diamond.”
Melinda rolled her eyes. “Diamonds are rather common. I often think of you as topaz.”
“Common or not, Blythe didn’t so much as glance in my direction. I wasincrediblyspoiled. Very sure of my place in the world. Blythe ignoring me brought out the worst of my character because I felt it unjustified. He was only an earl.”
A magnificent one.
“To salvage my wounded pride, I whispered unkind things about him, always when he was certain to overhear. That he was a preening peacock. An unintelligent rake who spouted poetry or other romantic drivel. His dislike for me could be felt across a room, all while Blythe treated everyone else he met with kindness.”
“How dare he.” Melinda’s teeth snapped on a biscuit.
“Finally, after months of such behavior, our mutual animosity erupted in a rather spectacular way at a house party.”
“A house party?” Melinda leaned forward. “You must describe every detail to me. The dresses. The delightful games.” She gave a sigh. “Scavenger hunts where a gentleman partners you merely so he can steal a kiss. What?” She grabbed another biscuit. “I am fond of romantic novels.”
“A house party isn’t nearly as much fun as you imagine; at least, this one was not. My parents shadowed my every move, dictating to whom I might speak and how I might behave. The other young women present found me dislikable, which, I must assure you, I was. I had to be perfect no matter the cost.”
“That does sound awful.”
The house party at The Barrow had been a lifetime ago. Truly, Beatrice felt like the events had happened to someone else. “I failed to bring a gentleman up to scratch.” She tilted her head. “He’d expressed a great deal of interest in me, and a marriage proposal was thought to be forthcoming.” The unending disappointment of Lord and Lady Foxwood, stabbing Beatrice when Granby had failed to propose at the end of the house party, had only been made worse when Granby had chosen Andromeda Barrington instead. Her mother had shaken Beatrice like a rag doll. Father had refused to look at her, wondering out loud if he would be mocked upon their return to London.
I could not be more ashamed of you. What an utter and complete failure.
“Your Grace?” Melinda gently touched Beatrice’s knee.
Through it all, Blythe’s disdain had glittered at Beatrice from across Granby’s ballroom. Her emotions high, shaken from the displeasure hurled at her by Lord and Lady Foxwood, Beatrice had behaved badly.
“An unpleasant memory, that house party.” She waved away her friend’s concern. “I may have at one point referred to Blythe as an overindulged rake with poor taste in dance partners. Loudly enough so the entire ballroom could hear. He retaliated by calling me a vapid creature with all the depth of a thimbleful of water.”
“Quick-witted.” Melinda nodded.
“You see, the gentleman I nearly wed was Blythe’s closest friend. The Duke of Granby.”
“Anotherduke? Goodness. Aren’t you the lucky one.”
Beatrice rolled her eyes. “There is no need for sarcasm, Melinda. Granby was in love with another woman. I was quite terrible to her. Spread gossip which harmed her reputation and caused her much pain. A great deal of ugliness for which I am truly sorry, though I doubt I’ll ever have the opportunity to apologize. Lord and Lady Foxwood applauded my questionable behavior, whispering to me that it was justified, under the circumstances. You wouldn’t have liked me very much, I’m afraid.”
“You would never have deigned to speak to me, Your Grace. Now, get back to Blythe.”
Beatrice shrugged. “That is all there is to tell. A history of loathing and insults cast behind each other’s backs. Well, and the fact that he happens to be in Chiddon. Cicero was frightened by a flock of birds during our usual ride, and Blythe found me, to my great shock. I thought the vicar might know—”
“What sort of birds?”
“The birds are not relevant. I toppled to the ground. Fell and bruised my hip, which aches nearly all the time as it is.”
“He flustered you, Your Grace. I hadn’t thought anything could.”
