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expected it was the equivalent of a horrified gasp.
    Well, nobody ever said she was graceful, at least when it came to that sort of silliness.
    â€œHmm,” he said. “We’ll have to work on that.”
    â€œIt’s all nonsense, if you ask me,” Gillian said. “All this bowing and scraping like a peasant before his master. Perhaps you’d like me to polish your boots while I’m at it.”
    His disapproving gaze made her blink, and she almost took a step back. This was a man who did not like being crossed.
    â€œGillian Dryden, you will cease acting like a heathen,” her grandmother rapped out.
    â€œI had no idea you had revolutionary tendencies, Miss Dryden,” the duke said. “How very interesting. And no, I would not like you to polish my boots. My valet would not approve.”
    Now he sounded bored. And if he was bored, he would be more likely to go away and leave her alone. Splendid.
    Still, she couldn’t help feeling irked by his dismissive tone and demeanor. The Duke of Leverton was certainly a snob and probably a fop. She didn’t know which was worse.
    â€œWhy would you think I have revolutionary tendencies, sir?” she added in a sugary-sweet voice. “Is it because I think I’m as good as anyone else, despite my unfortunate social status?”
    Gillian braced herself for the expected put-down. She’d grown used to being labeled a prince’s by-blow, or worse. It was best to simply accept it and then do her best to avoid anyone who looked down on her because of her parentage. She’d learned that hard lesson a long time ago.
    The duke studied her for a few moments before replying. “Of course you are.”
    â€œOf course I am what?” she asked.
    â€œAs good as anyone else. Any sensible person must think so,” he said.
    â€œThat eliminates most of the ton, ” Griffin said.
    Leverton seemed to weigh her brother’s droll comment. “I believe your assessment is too pessimistic, Steele. Shall we say, perhaps fifty percent?”
    The exchange was so silly that Gillian had to laugh. Leverton’s eyebrows ticked up again, but not, she thought, with disapproval. Then he flashed her another dazzling smile that made her feel like the floor had just tipped sideways.
    â€œThat’s much better,” he said.
    She shook her head, exasperated. “I don’t understand any of this.”
    â€œNever mind.” Leverton glanced at Gillian’s grandmother. “Madam, would you be averse to my asking Miss Dryden a few questions? To get the lay of the land, as it were.”
    â€œYou mean to figure out how hopeless I truly am,” Gillian said.
    Griffin took her arm and steered her to sit with her grandmother. “Might as well get it over with, old girl.”
    â€œEasy enough for you to say,” she retorted. “No one cares if you’re a royal by-blow. No one ever cares about that sort of thing when it comes to men.”
    â€œNot exactly true,” Griffin said. “I had my problems, although I admit the situation is trickier for you than it was for me.”
    â€œBut not insurmountable, as I think we all agreed a few minutes ago,” the duke said, resuming his seat.
    â€œI was not in the room at the time of that discussion,” Gillian said.
    â€œBut you were listening in,” the duke responded. “I will, therefore, assume you to be in agreement with the rest of us.”
    Confound it. The man was all but unflappable. “That remains to be seen.”
    His glance shifted to her grandmother before returning to her. “Miss Dryden, am I to understand that you do not wish to be accepted into polite society? Surely that cannot be correct.”
    â€œOf course not.” Grandmamma pinned Gillian with a look that all but dared her to disagree. “Is it, my child?”
    Drat. She was caught in her own trap.
    Her mother and grandmother had already made it