Regency Surrender: Scandal And Deception. Marguerite Kaye
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Leaning back, she met his gaze with a good-humoured twinkle in her eyes. Her voice had been low and husky. The heat from her breath had travelled through every part of him.
He lowered his lips towards her ear, wanting to prolong this playful turn in their conversation. ‘What else do Americans do?’
The music of the waltz ended, and Julian was forced to let her go.
‘I suppose you will have to continue to wonder,’ she replied with an impish grin.
He held in a smile, wishing he could spend the remainder of the evening in her company.
Many a quizzing glass was raised as Katrina and the Duke walked through the parting attendants. Katrina could hear the whispers following them. Their sparring had been much too entertaining. She needed to remind herself that he was an arrogant man who had avoided her until their accidental encounter at Hatchards. Now, instead of leaving her when the dance was over, he was escorting her off the floor. Spending more time in his company would not be wise.
She began to slide her hand from his arm. ‘I see my father is waiting for me. Thank you.’
The Duke held her hand in place, keeping her at his side. ‘Would you be so kind as to introduce me?’
Would he act like an arrogant aristocrat towards her father? She slowed her steps before leading him to where her father was standing, not far from the dance floor. After introducing them, she waited for Lyonsdale’s next move.
He gave a polite nod of his head to her father. ‘I’d like to thank you for sending your book to my grandmother. Your kind gesture made her quite happy.’
‘It was my pleasure. I am always delighted to hear someone has enjoyed my efforts.’
‘I hear all of London is enjoying your efforts. I understand you are here in preparation for the Anglo-American Conference? I imagine your days are filled with information-gathering. Hopefully you will also have opportunities to explore more of London. I fear evenings such as this do not show us in our best light.’
The inconsistency in his behaviour was baffling, and it was difficult to form a clear picture of his character.
‘And what would you recommend to the worldly traveller?’ she asked.
He turned his head towards her. ‘Vauxhall Gardens and Drury Lane for entertainment, Tattersalls for quality horses, Hyde Park for beauty and fresh air, and Gunter’s for ice.’
He really did have lovely hair. It appeared 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