Although he was not bored this evening.
On the dance floor, Miss Elise was smiling and pleasant to young Lord Painswick. She appeared so charming and delightful that Beck knew hearts were being broken.Shewould be the talk of the evening.
In contrast, Miss Dara acted distant. She barely glanced at her partner. Although Brogan wasmore than a match for her. He smiled smoothly while equally ignoring her. “It is enjoyable to watch your sister and Brogan treat each other with a thick layer of, well, I can’t call it politeness. She doesn’t appear happy with him. That can’t be comfortable for him. Miss Dara is a bit of a spitfire, isn’t she?”
Gwendolyn’s chin rose. “If you use the wordspitfireto mean she is passionate about what she wants in life, then, yes, she is. I admire my sister for her tenacity.”
“And it is never a trial?”
There was a pause, and then Gwendolyn unbent enough to admit, “It is a bit like holding a comet by the tail. She will have her way.”
“And I take it her way is keeping Brogan apart from your youngest sister.”
“Dara is very particular about whom we should meet.”
“Obviously I’m not on the list.”
Gwendolyn tilted her head. “Do you wish to be on the list of possible husbands?”
The idea that Beck was fodder for matrimony made him laugh aloud. “That is one list I avoid at all costs. Besides, I have it on good account that the Lanscarr sisters won’t rest until they return to Ireland as duchesses.”
Gwendolyn had the good grace to blush. “And where did you hear that?”
“It’s not common knowledge yet,” he assuredher. “However, it is the goal of every unmarried woman in this room, so it won’t be a surprise. Your secret is safe.”
“If it wasn’t for Dara, we wouldn’t be here. She is the dreamer. Does that offend you, Mr. Steele? That we dare to be bold with our plans?”
“Not at all. And the three of you are beautiful enough that you might succeed. However, most dukes I know are deadly dull.”
“We haven’t met one yet.”
He looked down at her, marveling at how the candlelight seemed to make her hair darker, richer. “You will.”
Did she hear the admiration in his voice? If she did, she gave no indication, and he was relieved. He didn’t like anyone knowing what he was thinking... but something about her caused him to let down his guard—
“Did your head hurt very much?”
“In spite of her size, Dara can wield a club, can’t she? You needn’t worry. I’m not the vindictive sort,” he offered.
Her lips twisted as if she suppressed a laugh before saying with a boldness he could only admire, “Vouchers for Almack’s would prove you are not vindictive.” She referred to the infamous social club that was very difficult to join. The standards for receiving that invitation were very high.
Beck laughed, enjoying her spirit. “You arelearning how to navigate quickly, Miss Lanscarr. However, some things are beyond even my capabilities. In spite of his knighthood, your father, Captain Lanscarr, was a well-known scoundrel.”
He regretted his words the moment her manner changed. “Will that harm us?” she asked. “I had assumed few would know who he was.”
“Sir John was known in some quarters. However, the hostesses of Almack’s are sticklers for many things, including lineage. They would inquire, and I don’t know that you wish such inquiries.”
Her brows came together as if she saw the good sense of his thinking. “He wasn’t a bad man,” she corrected him. “He was a gambler, not a scoundrel. There is a difference. And if Almack’s shut its doors to gamblers, there would be no one left to attend its socials.”
“True,” he conceded, and was rewarded with one of her quick, triumphant smiles. “But then you would owe me another favor,” he pointed out.
“Always transactional. Careful, Mr. Steele, or I will believe you are not a gentleman.”
He laughed. “You know I am not, Gwendolyn.”
“You forget yourself, sir. I haven’t given you leave to be so familiar.”
“I’m not one for rules. And neither are the Lanscarrs.” He said it imperially. One equal to another. The music stopped. The previous sethad ended. He held out his hand. “Our dance, Miss Lanscarr.”
