Page 8 of Fit for a Duke
‘And you are not eligible, Miss Benton?’ Enjoying himself enormously, Ezra clutched dramatically at his heart. ‘Am I not permitted to admire you also? Please say you are not spoken for.’
‘Don’t be so foolish, your grace. I am only here to make up the numbers and because…well, because I live here and my aunt couldn’t avoid including me, but I am most definitely not supposed to put myself forward—which naturally I wouldn’t dream of doing.’
‘Oh, naturally!’
‘Stop laughing at me!’ she cried, laughing herself. ‘I am trying very hard to behave with propriety, but I give you due warning, if you will insist upon provoking me then I shall not be able to help myself from retaliating. I have a perverse nature, you see, and can never resist a challenge.’
‘In what manner would you retaliate?’
She gave an arch smile. ‘If I told you that then you would take steps to prevent me.’
It occurred to Ezra then that her intention might actually be to repeat the essence of the conversation she had overheard and obviously misinterpreted to a third party. That thought brought him to his senses and he adjured himself to stop flirting with the chit who, despite her extreme youth, seemed perfectly capable of holding her own against him.
‘Anyway, why are you here when you ought to be in the house, changing for dinner?’
Ezra looked at her askance, taken aback. No one ever dared to question his behaviour; especially not strangers. It didn’t seem to occur to the child that she had just crossed several boundaries in terms of social decorum, to say nothing of good manners. Even so, he glanced down at his stained shirtsleeves and dusty boots, damage incurred during yet another battle for supremacy with Pharaoh, and conceded that she had a point. He had ridden without a hat and his hair was doubtless a mass of tangles and knots, a situation that wouldn’t normally perturb him.
Today, for reasons he preferred not to examine, it did. He wanted this most unusual, spirited and highly individual child-woman to think the best of him. Her gaze roamed impudently over his dishevelled person, making it clear that she wasn’t particularlyimpressed by what she saw. He retaliated by allowing his gaze to rest significantly upon her collapsed coiffure.
‘My aunt has already deferred dinner for an hour pending your arrival, which will inconvenience her servants,’ Miss Benton remarked. ‘But still, I don’t suppose the upset to their routine will trouble your conscience.’
‘Do you always speak so much and so freely?’
‘Heavens no! It simply isn’t done.’ She smiled and Ezra couldn’t have torn his gaze away if his life had depended upon it. He once again reminded himself that she had been eavesdropping on his conversation with Godfrey and gave himself a mental dressing down. He looked over at Godfrey, who was watching their exchange silently, although his smile spoke volumes. A less likely spy it was difficult for him to imagine, which meant he was duty bound to mistrust her. But there again, if she had been commissioned by his would-be murderer to lower his defences then it ought to concern him, since his foe had shown considerable cunning in making such an unlikely and captivating choice. But he had her measure now. He would control his most peculiar initial reaction to her and turn the tables on her in the hope that she would lead him directly to the person who meant him harm.
Having found a justification for pursuing the connection, Ezra spoke again. ‘You shame me,’ he said, glancing down at his boots.
‘That I very much doubt.’ She paused. ‘So why are you planning to kill someone?’ Her tone remained conversational. ‘What has your victim done to displease you, and is it anyone I might know?’
Chapter Three
‘I beg your pardon.’
Clio felt her cheeks glow when she recalled the impudent manner in which she had addressed her aunt’s guest of honour and wondered what had made her do it. But, she reasoned, searching for a way to justify her irrational behaviour, he had set the tenor for their conversation, so the blame was entirely his. She had merely retaliated. He probably wasn’t accustomed to people—especially young women—standing up to him, but it was important to make him see that he didn’t intimidate her.
At least not very much.
Anyway, if he thought her impertinent there was nothing to prevent him from sneering down the ducal nose and walking away, so she was surprised by his willingness to linger. Presumably he needed to satisfy himself that he had charmed her into keeping his secret. She could easily believe that the quicksilver charm in question had got him out of trouble on countless occasions.
‘I believe you heard the question,’ she replied, meeting his gaze and holding it, ignoring the fact that his penetrating blue eyes appeared to be able to see into her soul. That was ridiculous, of course. She was in danger of becoming as fanciful as Beth. Everyone knew that souls were invisible, and would be unaffected by the power of a provocative expression. ‘However, I will gladly repeat it. Whom do you intend to kill and why?’
He responded with a disarming smile. ‘If I was planning to assassinate an enemy of the state, or even a personal enemy, I would hardly admit it to you.’
‘Ah, an enemy of the state.’ She nodded, wanting to believe it, even though she did not. ‘That would make sense, I suppose. Even though Napoleon has finally been put in his place, his supporters are still everywhere, I expect, and no doubt a gentleman of your stature is involved in all sorts of political machinations to bring them to justice. I personally think it quite beyond the pale that certain gentlemen backed the losing side in secret and now expect to get away with it. Even so, I’m sure it’s not good form to kill one’s enemies at house parties. Not that my aunt would willingly invite a traitor, but if traitors were that easy to identify they wouldn’t stay in business for very long, would they?’
Judging by his expression, the duke found her conversational meanderings highly amusing and clearly didn’t take her seriously, which was insulting. She could be quite insightful when she put her mind to it. They would have to part soon, and she wouldn’t have an opportunity to speak with him alone again. That was a pity, since she found him interesting, even if he did intend to murder one of her aunt’s guests. Making a favourable impression and not being looked down upon and dismissed as a harmless child mattered to Clio more than the death of some hapless stranger, who probably deserved to be done away with anyway.
This was Clio’s first society party, she reminded herself as she struggled to condone her behaviour, and she most definitely did not want this glamorous duke to dismiss her as an irrelevant distraction, even if she was unsure what she didwant from him. She must have broken a dozen rules already by speaking with him alone—her aunt would be appalled if she ever found out. But then again, he had accosted her in a very unorthodox manner and she was damned if she would wilt like a blushing maiden who was afraid of her own shadow. Being predictable was not her style.
It amused Clio to imagine how Beth would have reacted if he had pressed himself against her in such an intimate fashion. It had felt veryintimate to Clio, and her cheeks flooded with colour at the recollection. It suddenly seemed insufferably hot in the tack room and she wished she’d had the presence of mind to bring a fan with her. Beth, she knew, would not have pretended that the incident hadn’t occurred. She would have taken it as a declaration of intent and would certainly not have bitten his hand. Clio couldn’t help smiling at that particular recollection.
However, regardless of the circumstances of their meeting, she didn’t want the duke to think her incapable of grasping the fundamentals of anything more taxing than the latest fashions, so she abruptly stopped talking. Why it mattered to her so much what he thought of her she had yet to fathom.
Still unable to decide if he had just told her the truth, she wanted his respect and had no desire for him to think of her as a reckless child who talked too much. When he looked at her with such a deep, penetrating gaze she most certainly didn’t feel like a child. What she did feel was unlike anything she had ever experienced before. A warmth spread from the pit of her stomach to the outermost reaches of her body, overheating her despite the fact that the sun had dipped and a cool breeze had usurped the sun’s warmth.
‘I must ask for your discretion, Miss Benton,’ the duke said. ‘There is someone who has been invited to this party and who means us harm, and it is my duty to root him out.’
‘Then I will help you,’ she said without hesitation. ‘No one notices me and it will not surprise you to learn that they often forget I am in a room.’ He raised an amused brow. ‘I don’t gabble away ordinarily,’ she proclaimed indignantly. ‘I am only doing so now because you make me nervous.’
