Page 10 of A Duke in Autumn

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Eugenia considered his words. The warm strength of the arm under her hand sent an echoing warmth through her entire body. She envied him. A man could make such a decision, could choose to live his life as he wished, could fly in the face of social convention – especially if he was a Duke. But being a Duke’s sister only meant that she was required to be even more perfectly behaved, not less.

The seed of rebellion which he had so inconveniently sown in her, from their first meeting, was growing – more and more often, especially in his presence, she felt tempted to step outside the bounds of perfect behaviour. It did not matter how hard she tried to exterminate that seed, it grew back. What might it feel like, to not have to care what others thought?

A shiver ran through her at the very idea. He raised an eyebrow at her, enquiringly – he must have felt the shiver.

“It is a pity that women are never forgiven for defying social expectations, Your Grace, or more young ladies might dare to step outside the common pattern. I am told that I am unusual, in being content to be well-behaved.”

“Content? Are you really? Or are you simply so well-conditioned to the expectation that all sense of rebellion has been quashed? Does nothing tempt you to adventure, ever?”

Of course things tempt me – you tempt me, with every moment I spend in your company, with every word that you speak! And as far as rebellion having been quashed… It grows, more strongly every time that I see you – I have just, barely, still managed to keep it constrained!

But she did not say those things aloud. They stood in the line of dancers now, and began to move with them, as the music dictated. Eugenia’s thoughts were turning about, as much as the dance turned them amongst the other dancers. She had no idea what to say, for she certainly could not actually express her thoughts. When they came back face to face, she spoke so quietly that he leaned towards her to be able to hear.

“I cannot see that rebellion would do anything but make life a misery – for I would be gossiped about, given the cut direct by various people, and lose all chance of making a good match. Such things are, quite reasonably, enough to make a young lady choose to be content with good behaviour.”

His golden eyes held hers, and they rotated in the dance, the touch of his hand sparking warmth in her, as surely as his attitudes sparked annoyance. He made her think about all of the parts of her life that she was not, truly, content with. This autumn in Bath was proving vastly different from her expectation.

She had expected Balls and outings, yes, but she had thought it likely that they would not be so different from those in London. But they were – between Lady Annet attempting to lead her into naughtiness, and this man almost daring her to misbehave… it was vastly vexing.

They spun back together, and he spoke softly.

“Perhaps you have a point – at least in that society’s requirements of young ladies are far more… rigorous… than the requirements for young men. But surely, being faced with such expectations only makes a person feel more determined to rebel – in whatever small ways may be available? I had not imagined you as a person who would so completely dismiss their own desires, simply because society expects you to?”

Eugenia swallowed hard. He had touched on the core of it. For she was exactly that. She had always done what was expected, what she had been told was right, no matter what she might have wished for, secretly. She had always assured herself that Isabelle was rebellious enough for both of them, and the only way that she might stand out was through perfectly fulfilling every expectation. She had prided herself on it. But when he put it as he had, her mind filled with doubts – was it, really, something to be proud of?

She no longer knew.

The dance swirled to an end, and he bowed to her, then offered his arm. She placed her hand upon it, and was surprised when he did not immediately turn to take her back to her mother. Instead he led her towards the doors on the inner side of the ballroom, which opened into the colonnaded space between the two wings of the Assembly Rooms building.

They stepped through the door. As there was no event on in the Tea Room, which was opposite, that evening, the area was only minimally lit, and few people were to be seen. Eugenia’s heart was pounding – why had he brought her here? She should not have allowed it, yet she had – there was just something about the Duke of Oakthorpe which seemed to make her do everything that she should not.

“Why…?”

He laughed softly.

“Because I wished to see if you would allow it, if you would step that far beyond the bounds of propriety. And because I wanted a moment to speak to you alone, without the jealous eyes of half a hundred young women burning holes in my back and yours.”

Eugenia bristled, drawing herself up to glare at him.

“Well, now that I have allowed it, however unwisely, you had best say whatever you wanted to say, so that I can return to the ballroom before my mother notices that I am missing.”

He gave her a half mocking bow.

“As my Lady commands.” He rose from the bow, and stepped forward, until he was but inches from her, and she felt the heat of him, was dizzied by the intoxicating scent of him. His golden eyes held her captive. She should step back. She did not. “I must know, Lady Eugenia – did you enjoy the feel of the water on your feet, as they dangled in the stream? Did you enjoy that departure from perfect behaviour enough to want to do it again?”

She gasped.

He was outrageous, highly improper… and sinfully tempting. For his words made her remember, and she gave a little involuntary shiver at the thought – not just at the thought of the feel of the water on her feet, but at the thought of his gaze upon her exposed legs, and the heat that had been in his eyes.

He saw the shiver – she knew that he did, for a fleeting expression of satisfaction crossed his face. Her annoyance flared – how dare he do this to her! His laughter came again, soft and low, and he moved even closer, and lowered his head towards hers.

She quivered where she stood – did he intend to kiss her? Would she allow it? She was not a wanton, she should not be there, she… his whisper cut off her thoughts, the breeze of his words caressing her lips as he spoke, so close was he.

“You have not run. Nor have you denied the appeal of the idea. I suspected as much. How far might you be tempted, my Lady? Shall I test your resolve to good behaviour? Shall I kiss you?”

The shock of his words rushed through her, like ice and fire at once in her veins. With a sharp intake of breath, she stepped back from him.