Page 6

“Of course, Lady Regina,” Bea said woodenly. Her heart was beating so fast that she felt light-headed.

There was no escaping it. Naturally, Lady Regina’s brother was the size of a mountain. If she ever met a gentleman whom she could contemplate marrying, he would have to be a reasonable size.

Not outlandishly large, with shoulders to match.

Not that she would ever consider a duke. She had a precise understanding of her worth, thanks to the last five weeks. She would never set her sights as high as a duke.

In fact, Regina and her friends didn’t even think Bea was worthy of a gentleman. Martha had remarked that Bea would be best paired with a butcher or a baker, someone who could feed her appetites.

All she wanted was a reasonably-sized man with kind eyes.

She pushed the thought away. Dancing would get her away from Regina. All the way to the other side of the ballroom, in fact. She merely needed to think of it as an escape, rather than a humiliation. “Your Grace,” she said, curtsying before the mountain.

“Miss Valentines,” he said, bowing yet again.

CHAPTER THREE

Miss Beatrice Valentine may not have danced with many dukes—in fact, this was her first—but she knew that the rules of polite society dictated that she shouldn’t insult the Duke of Lennox by disagreeing. For example, by pointing out (again) that her last name wasn’t Valentines, but Valentine.

The only thing on Bea’s mind was getting through this bloody dance and running for the ladies’ retiring room—obviously, the fern she had hidden behind earlier had been inadequate.

She would allow His Grace to waltz her just far enough away so that she could escape. Behind her shoulder, Regina, Matilda, and the twins were tittering loudly at the idea that she was to dance with a duke.

Query: What are the odds this man would have the same character if he were born a peasant or a grocer?

Probability: Zero.

He was monstrously tall, but it was the unpleasant eyes that really betrayed his rank. She liked warm blue eyes. His were like a snowy field at twilight: gray and treacherous. Just like his sister’s.

The strains of a waltz began. The duke was so large that she had to stretch to reach his upper arm.

“All right,” she murmured, so quietly that her lips scarcely moved, “just … just get through it.”

“Excuse me. I didn’t hear you. What did you say?” His Grace asked. He took her right hand in his. To his credit, he didn’t pull her arm to an uncomfortable height.

She didn’t look up or answer his question; it would just encourage him to make fun of her. Give him ammunition to share with Regina.

True, the siblings didn’t seem to like each other, but that was the way of vicious creatures forced to grow up in the same den. She’d read about the habits of the African animal called the hyena, for example. Siblings regularly ate each other.

“Miss Valentines?” he asked, with just the faintest intonation that suggested he wasn’t used to being ignored.

“My name is Valentine,” she said, taking a breath. Her pulse was still racing, even though they were moving toward the edge of the dance floor. Sad though it was, with every inch of distance gained from Regina, Martha, and the rest she felt braver.

She was still a pitiful coward, though, given that she desperately wanted to run out the door.

“Please forgive me,” the duke said, sounding completely unmoved by regret. “Miss Valentine.”

As the music began, Bea reminded herself to follow his lead. To step widely because his legs were so long. To be light on her feet and—

While she was still reminding herself of the rules for dancing with monstrously sized men, they reached the edge of the dance floor and began. The duke held her so steadily that after a moment she forgot about taking wide steps.

In fact, their feet moved perfectly together, in tune with the music. Before Bea realized what was happening, he turned her in a smooth circle. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her gown float out behind her. She’d only seen that happen when other girls were dancing.

Pretty girls, like Martha, Petunia, Prudence and Regina.

The duke seemed to know instinctively when another couple was veering close to his back. He would quickly correct their course, turning Bea in a gliding circle.

“You said something that I missed,” he said, after a few more moments of dancing.