Page 11 of A Duke in Autumn

“You, Your Grace, are no gentleman!”

With that, she spun and left him, rushing back into the ballroom. As the door closed behind her, she heard his soft laugh – the sound seemed to vibrate in her very bones.

~~~~~

Morris leaned back against a pillar, barely lit by the sconces high on the wall beyond him. So, fear had won out over temptation. He was a little disappointed – he had seen the moment when she had wavered, almost lifting her face to him, as if waiting for his kiss – and then she had pulled her eyes away. His words had challenged her, and she had run. Her accusation could not be denied – it had not been the behaviour of a gentleman – but it had been delightful.

He realised, now, that he very much wanted to kiss her, and rather wished that he had – even if it had been the veriest brushing of lips. He shook his head – what on earth was he thinking? She was prim and proper, determined to be quiet and well behaved – that should, by rights, make her utterly boring – so why did he find her fascinating? Why did the image of her lips, just moments before, stay in his mind now?

He did not know – but even more than before, he intended to fulfil the challenge that he had set himself for his time in Bath – he would find the cracks in that porcelain perfect exterior, and break them open, somehow, to discover the truth of the woman inside. What he would do once he had achieved that… he did not know, and did not wish to consider too closely. For now, the challenge was enough to enliven his days. He straightened, and went back into the ballroom, steeling himself to dance and converse with some of the fluttering hopefuls inside.

~~~~~

Eugenia tried to calm her racing heart, to slow her ragged breath – it would not do at all for anyone to suspect that she had been fool enough to allow herself to be alone with a man.

No matter how thrilling it had actually felt.

When he had stepped so close, when she had thought that he might kiss her… There had been a moment when she had desired just that – and, obviously, he knew that she had, given his words moments later. That she had entertained such wanton thoughts, and been caught out in them, was beyond lowering – it was perhaps the worst moment of her life.

Which in no way removed the thrill that his words had sent to her heart and through her body, as she had imagined, for a split second, what his kiss might feel like.

She crossed the room to her mother, her face set in her best gentle smile. She needed to dance with another gentleman – preferably one who was guaranteed to be dull, and not ask for too much conversation. One who might remind her of proper behaviour, just by his existence.

Chapter Six

Eugenia and Lady Annet walked slowly along the street, accompanied by Lady Annet’s maid, who, apparently, had often conspired with Lady Annet in the matter of adding seeming respectability to otherwise dubious excursions. Eugenia’s heart pounded, and the book which she carried felt far heavier than it was.

Slipped between its pages were a number of her sketches, of daring ballgowns and elegant afternoon dresses. They were going to visit a modiste – one whom Lady Annet assured her was of the highest quality, and whose discretion could be relied upon.

Eugenia was torn between being almost thrilled by the fact that she was doing something clandestine, with the barest nod to propriety in the presence of the maid, and being utterly horrified at herself for ever considering the expedition. It was as if simply being in Bath had completely changed her character.

“It’s not far now. The shop is in the next street. You’ll love it! There is just so much beautiful fabric!”

Lady Annet sighed at the thought, and Eugenia had to admit that she found the prospect appealing. They turned a corner, and walked along past various shops, until they reached one which was bigger than the others, with a large front window.

The gown displayed in that window was rather spectacular, in a shade of crimson which Eugenia wished she had the courage to even contemplate wearing. But she did not – a young woman wearing that shade would be deemed near a harlot for her presumption.

They went into the shop, the maid waiting outside and, at the delicate tinkle of the bell on the door, a woman appeared through a curtain from the back of the shop. She was older, dressed elegantly, yet simply, with a wealth of dark auburn hair swept up into a practical chignon. As soon as she saw them, a wide smile appeared on her face.

“Lady Annet! It is a delight to see you again. What can I help you with today?”

“Good day, Madame Bergeron. Today, I have come to seek your opinion – and to introduce you to my friend, Lady Eugenia Rutherford.”

Madame Bergeron turned to Eugenia and gave a curtsey.

“Lady Eugenia – I can see already that you appreciate fine fabrics – I am delighted to make your acquaintance.”

“Thank you. Indeed, your shop is filled with so much beautiful fabric, I barely know where to look next!”

The modiste smiled again, obviously pleased, and Lady Annet stepped forward, moving close to the woman before speaking softly.

“Madame, I must ask for your utmost discretion with what we are about to discuss with you.”

“Of course, my Lady. What can I assist with?”

Her deep green eyes were filled with curiosity as Lady Annet tugged Eugenia forward.

“Madame, Lady Eugenia is most talented, but I cannot get her to believe that. So I asked her to show you, that you might give your professional opinion.”