thick and had some wave to it. And she realised she had memorised every detail of his chiselled features and square jaw.
Her father cleared his throat, drawing Lyonsdale’s attention away from her. ‘I believe you could easily write a guide to London and earn a few pounds, Your Grace.’
‘I fear spending most of my life here has given me a skewed perspective on what others would find entertaining. Perhaps I presume too much?’
‘I do not think you presume too much at all,’ her father continued. ‘Your very thorough list has intrigued me.’
Katrina tilted her head, taking in Lyonsdale’s comfortable yet elegant stance. ‘What would you recommend above all else? If you had only one day in Town, where would you go?’
There was a substantial pause, as if he was trying to recall what he found enjoyable. ‘I would go to the British Museum and see the Elgin Marbles.’
She tried to recall ever hearing the name. ‘I’m not familiar with them.’
‘They are a collection of artefacts from Ancient Greece. You should try to see them before you leave.’
She found it a surprising answer, coming from a man so consumed by his work. ‘And that is what you enjoy in London above all else?’
His lips rose into a hint of a smile. ‘At the moment they are my preferred attraction.’
Her father cleared his throat again. ‘I believe I was correct in my initial assessment, Your Grace. You could compose an admirable travel guide.’
Lyonsdale shifted his intense focus from her. ‘Thank you, sir. I will keep that in mind in the event that I find I am a bit light in the pockets. However, I doubt it would be as entertaining as I hear your book is.’ He smiled pleasantly. ‘Please excuse me. I shall take my leave. It has been a pleasure.’ He tipped his head to both of them and turned away.
She sensed her father’s weighted stare.
‘Let us find you some lemonade,’ he suggested when Lyonsdale was far enough away. As they began walking towards the refreshment table he lowered his voice. ‘This will not end well, my girl.’
‘There is no story here, Papa. Do not look to write one.’
‘That dance said differently. The man is a duke.’
‘I am well aware of that.’
‘Then you know you can have no future with him. He is destined to choose one of his own to marry.’
‘His choice of a bride does not concern me. You know I do not wish to find a husband here. I will not be attached to a man who will commit himself to me in the eyes of God, only to cast me aside when it’s convenient for him to do so. I know all about how Jerome Bonaparte deserted his wife because she was American. I have no desire to have that done to me.’
‘Those might be your feelings at the moment, but feelings can alter when attraction comes into play. I have seen it happen before.’
‘There is no attraction here. There is no game to be had.’
‘You fool yourself if you think so. This room witnessed quite a display of mutual attraction this evening. I would not be surprised if you find yourself in the papers tomorrow. I am only saying this to caution you. Guard your heart, my dear.’
‘It was a waltz. Two people have to grant each other their undivided attention. What you witnessed was a dance.’
‘What the entire room witnessed were two people so absorbed with one another they did not notice when the music ended,’ he said, handing her a glass of lemonade.
‘Of course we did. We stopped dancing.’
She could not deny that she was attracted to Lyonsdale, but it wasn’t as if he was irresistible. Ignoring the pull, she refused to scan the crowd to see who was receiving his attention now.
* * *
As Julian reached his grandmother’s side he followed her gaze to the couples who were assembling on the dance floor.
‘You were waltzing,’ she commented, sipping her lemonade.
He lowered his head to keep their conversation private. ‘We are not discussing this.’
‘I am simply making an observation.’
‘Well, please do not.’
‘She is rather a pretty thing.’
‘I said we are not talking about this.’
‘Talking about what?’ his mother interjected as she joined them.
‘We were discussing the headache Julian has suddenly acquired,’ replied his grandmother as she smiled into the rim of her glass.
Julian straightened and pressed his lips together to keep from laughing.
‘But you never get headaches. How long have you had this one?’ his mother asked anxiously.
‘Only a short while, I assure you,’ he replied, locking his fingers behind his back.
‘Is it severe?’
‘Not at the moment, but that could change.’
‘Do you require a physician?’ she asked in a panicked voice, studying his face.
‘A physician is not necessary.’
‘Very well. I know I need not remind you that you must dance with someone else this evening. We cannot have people believing you have designs on your one partner.’
Julian knew his mother was right. He had only danced once this evening, and he was certain people were speculating about his attendance. If he singled out Miss Vandenberg as his only partner, people would assume he was courting her.
Studying the room, he finally spotted Lady Mary, moving elegantly through a quadrille. He would ask her to dance. It was time he put some effort into conversing with her.
Moving his gaze from Lady Mary, Julian momentarily caught the eye of the amusing Miss Vandenberg...
An hour later he collected Lady Mary for their dance. When he took her hand in his there was no consuming need to pull her into his arms. Was this what bedding her would feel like? Putting on his usual bored expression, he began to dance. He studied her small features, her round youthful face and thick auburn hair. Nothing inside him stirred.
‘Is there something wrong, Your Grace?’
‘No. Why do you ask?’
‘You appear perplexed.’
‘Not at all,’ he replied, blinking away his thoughts.
They danced in silence for quite some time, and Julian tried to think of something they could discuss.
‘Your family—are they well?’
