Page 36 of Pursuing a Duke
Andrew shook his head and laughed. “I would pay good money to see you run from a young debutante.”
“Are you enjoying Bath, Mrs. Fitzpatrick?” Lady Clarice asked as she picked blades of grass and twirled them between her fingers, having long since finished Sally Lunn’s delicious and gooey bun.
“Yes. And please call me Emmeline.”
“Thank you, Emmeline. I spent some time here years ago with my husband. He’d taken ill and swore the restorative water and the Roman Baths would cure him.”
“Did they?” Emmeline asked.
“For a time. But he was old. People die.”
“What a mood crusher you are, Lady Clarice,” Caldwell remarked with a grin, a wink, and a nudge.
“I hear music. The dancing must be starting. Shall we?” Andrew said as he stood, holding out his hand for her. She took it, and he pulled her to her feet and picked up his jacket, brushing off the grass and dirt before putting it on.
“Oh my,” Emmeline said with trepidation as they approached the dancing, presently a country reel. “I believe those mothers and daughters are looking straight at you.”
“A little bold, don’t you think?” he said.
“You should dance with several of the young ladies. It will boost their standing with the other gentlemen to be seen dancing with a duke.”
“I’m not dancing with them. I don’t know them. If it were someone I knew and could help her without entangling myself, I would consider it.” He held out his hand. “Shall we?”
She smiled, and took his hand. “We shall.”
The dance was not conducive to conversation. They moved forward and back, twirled around, broke apart, and came back together, only to do it again. Emmeline liked the excitement of country reels, but they were nothing compared to the waltz. Memories of dancing the waltz with Andrew the other nightflashed in her mind. She didn’t expect a waltz in the middle of the day with the sun shining, which was unfortunate.
The dance ended, and they walked to a table with punch and lemonade, which had already been poured into cups. They both picked up a lemonade. “Don’t look now,” Emmeline whispered, “but the Countess of Hartford is almost upon us with her daughter, Lady Beatrice.”
Andrew groaned.
“What a pleasant surprise to see you here, Your Grace,” said the countess as she curtsied. “I hope your mother is well and enjoying living in the country.”
Andrew smiled tightly and bowed. “She is doing well, all things considered. I will give her your best.”
“Please do, Your Grace. You remember my daughter, Lady Beatrice.”
Andrew bowed over her hand as Lady Beatrice curtsied gracefully. “It is a pleasure to see you again, Lady Beatrice. Are you enjoying Bath?”
Before Lady Beatrice could answer, the countess chimed in. “She would enjoy it more if you found it in your heart to dance with her, Your Grace.”
Andrew’s eyes locked with Emmeline’s, conveying his hesitancy. Before he could respond the countess added. “It’s one dance, Your Grace. It will do wonders in helping my daughter attract a suitor.” She touched her fan to his forearm. “Please, you must help out a family friend.”
Even before Andrew relented to the countess, Emmaline knew he would. Once she mentioned their family connection, she knew he would agree to one dance. He was too honorable not to.
Andrew bowed to Lady Beatrice and held out his arm. “Will you do me the honor of dancing with me, Lady Beatrice?”
“Yes,” she said softly, blushing as she placed her small, gloved hand on his arm, and they walked off. Emmeline tried not to acknowledge the pain in her heart as he walked away with a stunning young lady looking comfortable on his arm. Lady Beatrice did not take after her mother. Lady Beatrice had long, thick, and wavy blonde hair. Her facial features were delicate, and her green eyes were stunning. Emmeline predicted she would not have a second Season.
