“You haven’t made the acquaintance of very many dukes, have you?”
At that, Lucy blushed so brightly, Mina feared she’d have to take her up to her bedchamber and have Bridget throw a pitcher of water over her friend’s head while Mina held her.
Julian ignored the stir he’d created and kept right on talking. “We do whatever we please. We’re held to a different standard than mere mortal men.”
* * *
Mina had been surprised,and if she were truthful, a little uneasy when Wills had emerged from the crush of guests and asked Lucy for a place on her dance card. Her friend blushed hard again - God, she was going to have to nip that unfortunate habit in the bud - but smiled prettily for Mina’s brother and gave him the card.
If there was one thing she’d learned about the younger of her brothers over the years, it was that he had an overly high opinion of himself and a total disregard and disdain for everyone he considered inferior. She couldn’t quite grasp what he was up to, but she suspected her beautiful, if impoverished, friend had caught his eye. That was not a good thing. There were rumors of his callous treatment of women, and Bridget went out of her way to avoid him, counseling other women in the servants’ quarters to do the same. Mina wished she could believe he was merely being kind, but that had not been her own personal experience of his actions.
She was so worried about Lucy being whisked away on the arm of her brother into the swirl of dancers that she’d almost forgotten it was time for the dance she’d promised Julian.
And speaking of that exasperating man, where in Hera’s name was he? She finally spied him over by one of the huge silver punchbowls, filling two cups.
* * *
Julian feltas though he’d been born to the role of wallflower. It was an incredibly decent way to hide and have a gallant excuse to do so. He could make himself useful running for punch and cool ices from the buffet tables, and no one expected him to choose a wife from back there, amongst the doomed women of theton. The best part? His presence there didn’t raise even asoupçonof gossip. No self-respecting duke would ever pluck a nobody from the line of perpetual wallflowers to be his duchess.
One day, in the midst of some Season, he’d seek out that year’s “diamond” and buy his way into her father’s heart. The trouble was, even though he’d dipped his toe into four Seasons now, that perfect plan had never materialized. And then there was Maria. Of course, most well-heeled society gentlemen maintained their mistresses even after they married the “right woman.”
Yet he’d somehow run through four whole years in the comfort of Maria’s company without feeling compelled to take on another woman merely for the purpose of filling a nursery with heirs. Yes, he felt the burden of the sharpened scythe that swung steadily over his head. He wasn’t getting any younger, but he liked his comfortable life. Didn’t see the need to change, at least not just yet.
Lost in thought, he looked up with a start to see Mina in front of him, flashing her famous peevish blue stare.
“What have I done now?”
“The dance you requested?”
His dumbfounded look apparently did not go over well.
She slapped him soundly with the dratted card. “It’s time for the dance you chose, you dolt…I’m sorry,Your Grace.”
15
Mina’s eyes were getting heavy as the evening wore on, not being used to partying throughout the night. When the orchestra struck up a lively waltz tune just before midnight, she started to attention, her eyes wide. She’d nearly forgotten she’d promised the supper dance to Mr. Barclay.
She straightened and watched him stride purposefully across the floor to her side.
He bent low over her hand, repeating his odd behavior of squeezing her hand just a little too long. If anything, his hands were hotter and damper than before. “Miss Tindall, I hope you remember you promised me the dance before supper.”
She forced her lips into what she hoped was a warm smile and let him lead her out among the dancers, but her tongue remained tied. She could honestly think of nothing to say to the poor man. At the first whirl of the waltz, however, she knew she had to make an effort. Gazing directly into his eyes, she embarked on the first snippet of conversation that popped into her head.
“Are you enjoying the music, Mr. Barclay? We were able to bring in the parish orchestra that normally plays for church services. We didn’t want to send all the way to London, so we thought we would give them a chance to show us what they could do. They do a marvelous job, don’t you think?” She nearly gasped at the end of the long speech, embarrassed that she’d prattled on and on like one of the silly goose-like young women she’d encountered at tea parties in Rumsford. She realized too late she’d added her imitation of their high, insipid voices.
When Mina sneaked a gaze at Mr. Barclay’s face, she realized he hadn’t paid a whit of attention to what she’d said. He was instead staring intently at the spot where the indent between her breasts showed at the neckline of the lacy white confection her mother had insisted she wear.
That was when she began to count down silently from one-thousand to one. During the next series of whirls, he took advantage of the oblivion of the rest of the dancers to cup one of her breasts through the diaphanous material. Mina, who was usually unequivocally in charge of her own life, froze instead, unable to think what to do that would not shame her family. Her mind flew through her options and just when she was going to stomp on his foot, the rest of her family be damned, someone deftly cut in, and Mr. Barclay simple disappeared. It was if he’d never existed.
She half hoped her rescuer would be her favorite duke in disguise as a bear, but when she had the courage to look up to meet the man’s eyes, they were a warm brown sparkling with quiet laughter. She started for a moment, wondering who the stranger could be, and then she remembered. It was Hugh, the poor Earl of Westfalia she’d rescued from an ill thought-out bet so many years before at the boxing match at The Angel.
“Hello, Miss Mina. It looks like you’re stuck with me for supper.” His eyes still twinkling with humor, he whirled her down the line of dancers so forcefully, she feared she wouldn’t be able to stand on her own when he let her go.
When the dance ended and she could breathe again, she said the first thing that came into her head. “What are you doing here?”
He leaned close to her ear and confided. “George and I have been friends ever since I rescued Wills from his endless rounds of gambling dens.”
At the side of the Abbey ballroom Julian took a gulp of the ladies’ punch he detested and envisioned how many pieces he could slice from Hugh’s hide in a duel at dawn. He had no right to rescue Mina. She was Julian’s responsibility, wasn’t she?
