raising an eyebrow.
Juliette snickered. “You are only jealous he did not ask you to dance.”
“I most certainly am not. If he had asked me to dance, I would have said no.”
“Jealous, jealous, jealous,” Juliette taunted under her breath.
This tedious banter had gone on unchecked for a week, ever since His Grace had introduced himself and asked her to dance. She had gone from the least respected member of her social group to the most admired, although in her opinion she was being admired for a very silly thing.
And since that day nearly a week ago, he had not so much as spoken to her, nor looked at her, nor smiled in her direction. He went out with the men to hunt and fish in the day time, and kept to cards and the smoking room at night. From time to time he’d make an appearance in Lady Darlington’s drawing room to watch the dancing, but he did not ask her or any other lady to dance, even the older women who openly flirted with him. After a time, too short a time, he’d disappear back into the side rooms and the young ladies would wink at one another and whisper behind their fans about his showy clothes and his too-long hair, and his big hands.
Harmony did not agree that his clothing was showy. He actually dressed in a rather conservative style. His clothing only appeared showy for being so expertly fitted to His Grace’s compelling physique. The ladies talked about that too, until Harmony’s head would burst from it. His Grace’s broad shoulders, His Grace’s stern features, His Grace’s fine legs revealed in alluring detail by his tight-fitting trousers. And yes, his shoulders were broad, his features were stern, his legs were fine, and his hands were…obscenely large.
“I believe he wanted to kiss you.” Viola made a gleeful sound. “Do you think he meant to kiss you when he took you off to walk alone?”
“We only went down the hall to see some paintings. There were footmen everywhere.”
Sybil tsked. “As if a footman would intervene with a duke. Fortunately His Grace did not choose to take advantage of you.” It was an insult, sweetly spoken. Sybil had been the one most anxious to cut him, and now had become the one most jealous of Harmony’s connection to him.
“The duke only invited me to dance to save me from a scolding,” Harmony explained for the twentieth time. “It was very embarrassing, as I told you. Nothing romantic happened, not the entire time we stepped away.”
She had not told them everything. She had not told them about the pleasant, relaxed way he conversed, or the way he listened when she talked. She let them believe he was what they thought: a highborn, stuffy gentleman, guilty of great perversions. The rest of it she kept in her heart, her special secret she refused to reveal. If they knew how much she thought about him they would never stop teasing her. If they knew the silly fantasies she harbored when her eyes lingered on him…
“Why do you blush every time you speak of him?” asked Mirabel. “If nothing romantic happened?”
“I know what happened,” said Juliette, eyes dancing. “He dragged her into a corner and subjected her to his uncomfortable habits !”
“Oh, yes,” Mirabel giggled. “He took unforgivable liberties, didn’t he? Perhaps he wishes Harmony would be his mistress.”
“What a terrible thing to say,” Viola gasped.
“Goodness, how sensitive you are.” Mirabel dressed Viola down with a sneer and excluded Harmony from the rest of the conversation.
She didn’t care. She wasn’t here in the garden to simper and chat, but to see the duke return from the hunt. He seemed particularly strong and manly coming in from the fields, in a way that very much affected her, even if he never had a word or glance for her.
It wasn’t long before the hunting party appeared with their attendants and bags full of game. There was much silly flirting and mucking about as the men showed off for the ladies, but it was not the duke’s habit to
Juliette snickered. “You are only jealous he did not ask you to dance.”
“I most certainly am not. If he had asked me to dance, I would have said no.”
“Jealous, jealous, jealous,” Juliette taunted under her breath.
This tedious banter had gone on unchecked for a week, ever since His Grace had introduced himself and asked her to dance. She had gone from the least respected member of her social group to the most admired, although in her opinion she was being admired for a very silly thing.
And since that day nearly a week ago, he had not so much as spoken to her, nor looked at her, nor smiled in her direction. He went out with the men to hunt and fish in the day time, and kept to cards and the smoking room at night. From time to time he’d make an appearance in Lady Darlington’s drawing room to watch the dancing, but he did not ask her or any other lady to dance, even the older women who openly flirted with him. After a time, too short a time, he’d disappear back into the side rooms and the young ladies would wink at one another and whisper behind their fans about his showy clothes and his too-long hair, and his big hands.
Harmony did not agree that his clothing was showy. He actually dressed in a rather conservative style. His clothing only appeared showy for being so expertly fitted to His Grace’s compelling physique. The ladies talked about that too, until Harmony’s head would burst from it. His Grace’s broad shoulders, His Grace’s stern features, His Grace’s fine legs revealed in alluring detail by his tight-fitting trousers. And yes, his shoulders were broad, his features were stern, his legs were fine, and his hands were…obscenely large.
“I believe he wanted to kiss you.” Viola made a gleeful sound. “Do you think he meant to kiss you when he took you off to walk alone?”
“We only went down the hall to see some paintings. There were footmen everywhere.”
Sybil tsked. “As if a footman would intervene with a duke. Fortunately His Grace did not choose to take advantage of you.” It was an insult, sweetly spoken. Sybil had been the one most anxious to cut him, and now had become the one most jealous of Harmony’s connection to him.
“The duke only invited me to dance to save me from a scolding,” Harmony explained for the twentieth time. “It was very embarrassing, as I told you. Nothing romantic happened, not the entire time we stepped away.”
She had not told them everything. She had not told them about the pleasant, relaxed way he conversed, or the way he listened when she talked. She let them believe he was what they thought: a highborn, stuffy gentleman, guilty of great perversions. The rest of it she kept in her heart, her special secret she refused to reveal. If they knew how much she thought about him they would never stop teasing her. If they knew the silly fantasies she harbored when her eyes lingered on him…
“Why do you blush every time you speak of him?” asked Mirabel. “If nothing romantic happened?”
“I know what happened,” said Juliette, eyes dancing. “He dragged her into a corner and subjected her to his uncomfortable habits !”
“Oh, yes,” Mirabel giggled. “He took unforgivable liberties, didn’t he? Perhaps he wishes Harmony would be his mistress.”
“What a terrible thing to say,” Viola gasped.
“Goodness, how sensitive you are.” Mirabel dressed Viola down with a sneer and excluded Harmony from the rest of the conversation.
She didn’t care. She wasn’t here in the garden to simper and chat, but to see the duke return from the hunt. He seemed particularly strong and manly coming in from the fields, in a way that very much affected her, even if he never had a word or glance for her.
It wasn’t long before the hunting party appeared with their attendants and bags full of game. There was much silly flirting and mucking about as the men showed off for the ladies, but it was not the duke’s habit to
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