Page 19

She had remained in the ladies’ retiring room until her chaperone found her. The dinner hour was over, and dancing had begun again.

Clearly, something had happened. She and Lady Alcon had only just walked into the dancing hall when Lord Peregrine sauntered up to her with a wicked glint in his eye, kissed her hand, and thanked her for the supper they didn’t even share. She hadn’t time to respond before he walked away, loudly informing a friend that she was “exquisite.”

All of this within earshot of Lady Martha Telton-Sacks, one of Regina’s closest friends.

Bea wasn’t stupid enough to think he had offered her a real compliment. Lord Peregrine had been mildly interested in talking about the gold standard, but he wasn’t attracted to her.

On the other hand, he had obviously grasped that his fiancée disliked her, which meant that she was trapped in a fight between Regina and Lord Peregrine.

Could it be true that they had broken their engagement?

Suddenly she realized that Lord Argyle was trying to talk to her during the snippets of dance when they stood beside each other. Had been trying to talk to her, in fact.

“Is something wrong, Miss Valentine?” he asked now.

Lord Argyle had sunny blue eyes. He was as sweet as a milk calf, Bea thought absently. “Not at all,” she said, so grateful that Regina didn’t seem to be on the dance floor that she gave him a lavish smile.

“I always have to mind my steps as well,” he said, with a sympathetic wrinkle of his nose.

Argyle and she kept chatting every time they found themselves back at the sidelines, waiting as another couple paraded forward and back. After a while, Bea relaxed. Every time she looked around, Regina was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps she had returned home?

In her search for Regina, Bea noticed one very interesting thing: The Duke of Lennox had not returned home.

He was leaning against a wall off to the side, and although people kept coming up and talking to him, he didn’t seem to do much talking. In fact, she caught him watching her several times. It was too ridiculous to even contemplate, but it felt as if—

Query: What was the likelihood that the Duke of Lennox fancied Miss Beatrice Valentine?

Prediction: Wholly impossible. 0%. And yet …

Their eyes met again.

He didn’t have Lord Peregrine’s chiseled features: even though he was an aristocrat at the very top of society, his chin was stubborn, his nose Roman, his cheekbones hewn rather than carved.

None of that mattered. Just standing there, he radiated confidence, a cool self-assurance that was probably bred into him.

She returned her gaze to Lord Argyle’s cheerful face. He had four brothers and sisters. He loved the country and was interested in timepieces and canals.

“I shan’t get to dance with you again until tomorrow,” he said in a complaining tone. “You are coming to Lady Paget’s ball?”

She nodded.

“Save me the first waltz?”

She gave him a smile. “Of course!”

* * *

When Jonah returned to the dance floor after seeing Regina and her chaperone into the carriage, Beatrice was processing about with Robert Argyle.

Jonah looked around for Lord Peregrine, but he caught sight of Beatrice’s rounded hips and fine ankles instead. She was a study in contrasts: her neck had a delicate curve, but her bosom was lush. Dark honey hair curled around her ears. He thought it might be long when it was down, perhaps long enough to reach her arse.

He wanted her.

The raw, bald thought shocked him even as certainty took hold of his mind.

Argyle wouldn’t be a bad match for her; he would be a marquess in a few decades The man’s eyes were warm as he looked at his dance partner. Abruptly Jonah was aware that tension was building in his muscles, so he turned and walked to the far side of the room.

Devin had flirted throughout supper with a merry widow. “Do you still wish to continue to the Pantheon?” Jonah asked, walking up to his friend, who had relinquished the lady to a dance partner.