They were brought glasses of lemonade, and slices of dry cake. Tasting it, she said, “Well, it is not very good, but a deal better than stale buttered bread.”
“This,” the duke said, looking at his own slice of cake, “is the highlight of the menu and always in short supply. In a few moments, there will be some wild wavings at footmen to attempt to get it before it runs out.”
The duke had been right, of course. There were some who seemed positively desperate to catch a footman’s eye.
“Who is that interesting lady who keeps waving at you?” the duke asked.
Beatrice followed the duke’s gaze and found her aunt smiling and giving her small waves. She smiled back.
“That is Miss Mayton, my aunt. Well, not really my aunt, but we call her so. She has been so kind to my father as to raise all five of his daughters.”
“That is very kind indeed. Did she not wish to marry and have her own family?”
“Oh she wished it, very, very much,” Beatrice said softly.
“Then it is even kinder still, that she has subsumed her own desires to care for you and your sisters.”
“Our Miss Mayton has a terribly tragic past, I’m afraid. There were several times she might have married, but all of her love interests died before their time.”
The duke nodded gravely. “In the war, I presume.”
“Goodness, no. Count Tulerstein died going over the side of an Alpine meadow, the Italian count dealt a deadly blow to himself, and well, there were others. She really has had the worst luck, but she keeps her head up. She’s helped me tremendously in developing my list of requirements for any gentleman wishing to approach me. I should have been completely lost on the whole thing had she not been my guide.”
“You will own to making a list of requirements?” the duke said, appearing amused to hear it. “May one inquire into its contents?”
There was something in the duke’s tone that made her not wish to inform him of her requirements. He seemed to find the idea amusing, though she could not see why.
“I suppose a title and money top the list?” the duke said, with a small smile.
“Indeed, they do not,” Beatrice said. “Those sorts of worldly considerations are not on the list at all.”
“I am surprised, Lady Beatrice,” the duke said. “It has been my experience that those two items are generally at the forefront of a debutante’s mind. Do tell me what other considerations must take precedence over those practicalities.”
Though Beatrice had almost decided not to inform the duke of her requirements, she had felt a little insulted that he’d thought money and a title were to be of the utmost importance. And so, she did list out for him the qualities necessary to Beatrice Bennington’s happiness.
The duke appeared ready to erupt in laughter. “Beowulf’s courage, Hercules’ strength, Robin Hood’s daring, as gallant as Gawain, the stalwart heart of Henry the Fifth? Have I missed any?”
“The depth of feeling of Shakespeare,” Beatrice said with a sniff.
The duke waved his hand at the long table. “Inthistown?”
“In this town, or wherever he may be. I am certain fate will bring us into the same sphere.”
“Lady Beatrice,” the duke said, clearly suppressing his laughter, “you will not find such a paragon anywhere on this earth and I pray you do not enumerate your requirements to anybody else. I say that kindly, as a gentle hint.”
Beatrice was at once mortified and furious. Who was he to direct her behavior or dictate what her requirements could or could not be?
He sounded very much like Van Doren just now, and it was infuriating. What was it about these sorts of gentlemen, forever delivering their hints to unsuspecting people?
“It seems you are not of a romantic turn of mind, Duke,” Beatrice said rather daringly. It was daring on two fronts, she knew. One, the very words. And two, he had not invited her to address him as Duke, rather than Your Grace.
“Perhaps I am not a romantic,” the duke said, ignoring the liberty she’d taken. “Though I flatter myself that I understand theton, and that I understand men. I say be cautious, Lady Beatrice, lest you end with a poet who will spin you stories until he’s spent your dowry and left debts all over Town.”
“I am sure I could never be taken in by one who would do such a thing,” Beatrice said.
“No?” the duke said, looking highly amused. “All of your requirements would be things easily pretended at. That is, until the mask fell away, in which case it would be too late to do anything about it. Trust in what a man does, not in what he says. That is the true measure.”
“I do suppose, though, that there are gentlemen of varying temperaments. One cannot simply assign a way to go about things to all of them. Some may be practical, and some of a more romantic turn of mind. Like a knight of old, for instance.”
