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“Various topics from his estates to the politics of the day,” Louisa responded while Harry rolled his eyes at her.

“But Miss Drake, you should not let a man be friends with you,” Jane said seriously.

“Why ever not?”

“He will think you are...fast,” she whispered with a glance back at Harry.

“On the contrary, Miss Bigby,” Harry responded. “Conversing with Miss Drake makes me believe she doesn’t need to use her beauty and wiles to capture a man when she has such an intelligent mind to entice him.”

Miss Bigby’s lips puckered in disdain. “But Mother says men don’t like women who speak their mind or are more intelligent than they are.”

“On the contrary, an outspoken, witty lady is very...intriguing,” Harry said, staring at Louisa with a small smile. “But we must all go in now for Miss Drake has agreed to a dance.”

“I do hope there might be one more dance in my future, Your Grace,” Miss Bigby said with a flirtatious smile as her eyelashes fluttered at Harry.

Louisa felt her frustration rising. Why couldn’t she act as coquettish as the younger lady?

“Ahh, but we would not wish to cause gossip, Miss Bigby. Good evening.” Harry held out his arm for Louisa.

She accepted his arm with a smile. “You were rather rude to her, you know.”

“I doubt she even noticed.” He glanced down at her with one brow cocked. “You thought that young lady would be acceptable?”

“I am running out of choices, Harry,” she whispered as they entered the ballroom. “You are extremely fastidious.”

“A word I doubt Miss Bigby even knows.”

“Stop,” she said with a feigned swat to his arm. “And why are we dancing?”

“Because I want to dance, and you have yet to find a partner who meets my fastidious demands.”

Louisa couldn’t help but giggle. “I do apologize. I understand you do not like giggling ladies.”

“I never minded your giggle.” He stiffened as if realizing he’d made an error.

She went silent for a long moment. “What is the next dance?”

“I believe it is time for a waltz.”

“A waltz?” she squeaked. “I might step on your feet or stumble.”

“I shall take my chances,” he retorted.

He gathered her near as they waited for the music to start. Damn him for choosing this dance for their first dance together. Having him near was overloading her senses. His heady scent surrounded her. She could feel the heat of his gloved hand on her upper back, which sent strange sensations to her belly. How had Harry become so dangerous to her senses?

She could barely catch her breath with him so near. Never had she been this close to him for such a length of time. But she wanted more. Who was she fooling? He didn’t want her. The man was all but glaring at her right now. A duke as particular as he was about his future wife would never think of her as a possibility.

Unexpectedly, she felt like crying.

As the dance ended, she said, “Excuse me, I must find the ladies retiring room.”

“Of course.”

Louisa left the room as quickly as she could, but instead of finding the retiring room, she headed out to the gardens for some peace. She needed to be away from the allure of the one man she could never have without destroying her sister’s future and even poor Charlotte’s future. How could she think for one moment that she could be with Harry?

Damn her mother and Tessa for all they had done that caused Harry’s father to kill Tessa’s husbands. She supposed caused was too strong a word. All Tessa had wanted was for Louisa and Emma to find a good match.

Louisa walked back to the far end of the garden, hoping no one would be out this far on a chilly night. There was a lovely bench in the rear surrounded by rose bushes that wouldn’t be in bloom for months. She sat down on the cold, wrought iron bench and wiped a tear away.

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