He showed his rotten teeth. “Now what would they want with such athing? What good are brains in bed?”
Faced with this appalling ill-breeding Beth would normally have walkedaway, but she didn’t want to create a scene, and this dreadful man was aguest. “I must ask you not to speak to me of such things. Lord Deveril,”she said coldly.
“Good gracious. But you claimed to be a woman of sense. Surely you knowthe purpose of marriage? It is stated explicitly in the service.”
Beth took refuge in silence, praying for the dance to end. It did atleast move into a pattern which prevented conversation for a while.
But inevitably she found herself back with her partner.
“We are having such beautiful weather, are we not?” she saiddeterminedly before he could pick his own topic.
“A perfect spring,” he agreed. “Seeing the birds in their nests turnsall our minds to matrimony. After all, I have no legal heir, not even adistant cousin. Like the marquess, I have obeyed the call of duty andselected my own satin pillow for the long cold nights.”
Beth punished him with silence and heard with relief the music die.
As he led her from the floor Lord Deveril said, “Speaking of birds, mylittle pigeon, you should ask the marquess about the doves at DruryLane.”
Beth had not the slightest intention of asking the marquess anything atthat man’s instigation, but she sought him out from a simple desire forprotection. She felt as if she had brushed up against somethingnoxious.
His raised finger brought her a glass of champagne, and she drankdeeply from it for refreshment and choked. “I think I would do better withlemonade, my lord.”
“If you’re going to quaff it like that, I should think so. You lookhot. Why don’t we walk on the terrace?”
She looked at him suspiciously, but he smiled. “Don’t worry. We won’tbe alone. There are a number of couples out there in the cool. Come.”
It was refreshing, and he had told the truth. They were not alonethough there was space enough for a kind of privacy.
“Are you enjoying your first ball?” he asked. He seemed to be genuinelyfriendly. With the memory of that brief moment of pleasure during the kissand their occasional accord during their battles of wits, Beth began tohope.
“It is pleasant enough,” she said. “Except for Lord Deveril.”
He frowned. “A man like that shouldn’t even be here. Lady Gorgrosbrought him and it was decided not to create a fuss by throwing him out.Why did you agree to dance with him?”
Beth remembered it was Lady Gorgros who had presented the viscount toher. “I accepted anyone who asked,” she admitted. Then she shrugged. “Theyall seemed respectable.”
She saw him stiffen and fix his interest on her. “And was he notrespectable? Am I to call him out?”
He was completely serious. “Don’t be ridiculous,” she retorted. “Of allthe stupidities of fashionable life, the worst is the habit of menfighting each other over trifles.”
Ice settled. “Of course,” he said. “You would consider your honor atrifle. How then did he offend you? Call Mary Wollstonecraft a doxy?”
Beth opened her mouth to blister him, but it was impossible with othersclose by. Beth discovered she had a crashing headache and closed hereyes.
“Elizabeth?”
“Just leave me alone.”
“Are you unwell?”
“I have a headache,” she bit out.
“Come then and we’ll findMaman.She will take care of you. Perhaps you should retire.”
Beth opened her eyes. There seemed to be genuine concern in his voice.More material for her conundrum. “I can’t do that. What will peoplethink?”
“That you have danced too hard and perhaps drunk a little too much.Come along.” He put a hand gently on her back to urge her forward, but sheresisted.
“Collapsing before dinner, retiring early. People will think ourmarriage a necessity.”
