“Two days after your family arrived,” he answered.
Bethany frowned. Where had she been and why hadn’t she been told?
“Then I thought to speak to you at the first function in which I saw you, but you gave me the cut direct.”
That she did recall. “I most certainly did not.”
“I distinctly remember glancing toward you, and you tilted your chin just enough to put your nose in the air and turned your back before walking off.”
“That is because you scowled at me,” she argued.
“I did not.”
“Yes, you did,” she insisted.
“I remember standing there, trying to get out of a conversation with Mrs. Draper, who had two daughters…” Claybrook groaned. “I had been trying to discourage that woman and she had the audacity to put her hand on my sleeve to keep me in place. I had glanced down at her hand and glared at her. When I turned away, you are the first person I saw, and you gave me the cut direct.”
Mrs. Draper was pushy, and not the least bit pleasant. “Perhaps you should learn to school your features, Your Grace.”
“And carry on as dishonestly as the rest of Society?” he grumbled. “Anyway, as you had not been home to me twice and gave me the cut direct, I decided that it was useless to pursue you.”
It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him that he had given up rather easily but she did not.
“I rarely saw you after that night, but that was because I was invited few places.”
Bethany frowned. He was a duke and invited everywhere.
“Some scandals are not overlooked or easily forgotten as quickly as one would like,” he offered. “Most of the invitations I received were from parents of daughters in need of a spouse and did not care if there was scandal attached to the name because of my rank. The others, not that there were so many, I avoided because I knew you would likely be present.”
“Proof that you really didn’t wish to know why I had pushed you in the Serpentine.”
“It was because I could not face another night of my heart being crushed beneath the heel of your slipper as you took yourself away as quickly as possible.”
“Your heart? What of mine?” she blurted and then quickly covered her mouth. She’d not meant to let him know just how badly she’d been hurt. It was bruised and ached even now, and she couldn’t help but wonder at the what ifs. Had she only been home when he called that Season? Had he been able to call before he had learned what his brother had done…would matters have turned out differently for them?
She wanted to cry for what had been lost.
“I truly was not at home when you called, nor had anyone told me that you had.” She needed him to believe her. “Had I been, I would have had the butler show you in.”
Leopold stared into her eyes, his filled with uncertainty.
“That is a promise. I would not lie to you, especially about something so important. Something that could have changed how we dealt with the other.”
“It could have changed everything,” he agreed quietly.
“But those Seasons are over. You turned into a broody, unpleasant duke and I became an independent spinster.”
“I am only churlish because I lost you before I ever had a chance to win you.”
Tears sprang to her eyes. “But you already had.”
Chapter Ten
She had been his and he had lost her, and all because of ill-spoken words and her misunderstanding.
“If I had your heart before, is there any chance that I might one day win it back?”
A tear slipped down her cheek and Bethany swiped it away, but she said nothing.
