decide if I'm going to faint."
He chuckled and
pulled her closer. "I somehow don't think you're the fainting type,"
he noted.
She wound her
trembling hands into his jacket and rested her cheek on his shoulder while he
held her. Perhaps he wasn't as dastardly as she had thought. Laughter sounded
from inside the doorway, and she started and pulled away. He released her
immediately, but putting distance between them left her little reassured. To
be out here on the balcony with a man―or, worse, two men―was enough
to ruin her. If anyone found out that she had knocked one of them unconscious,
her godparents would probably have to ship her off to America and she'd never
see Crestley again. "Your Grace, please don't tell," she begged, paling,
and regretting every cutting remark she had made to him over the past weeks.
"No
worries," the duke replied immediately, his expression still amused.
"This is a secret I shall very much enjoy keeping." He glanced back
at DuPres. "And if our sleeping fool has any pride at all, I don't
believe he'll be repeating the tale, either." His eyes met hers and slid
to the doorway. "I do believe we should exit the battleground before we
are discovered, however."
She nodded,
then glanced into the gloom of the balcony behind him. "You are out here
alone?" she whispered.
He gazed at her
for a moment, then nodded. "You refer, of course, to Eloise LeMonde."
Katherine
shrugged, reluctant to anger him. "I wasn't―"
"Her interests, if she has any, are her own," he replied, and
pursed his lips ruefully. "How was Figaro?"
She smiled.
"Wonderful," she replied enthusiastically.
Impulsively she
touched his sleeve. "Thank you again for helping me, Your Grace," she
said, looking up at him.
"You're
welcome, Miss Ralston," he answered.
"Kate,"
she said.
"Beg
pardon?" he queried, raising an eyebrow.
"Please
call me Kate," she explained. They were conspirators of a sort now, and
she owed him for keeping her secret.
He looked down
at her for a long moment, then shook his head. "Katherine suits you
better," he said thoughtfully.
DuPres groaned,
and Sommesby took her hand and tucked it over his arm. "You shouldn't be
here when he emerges. I think you should have another headache." His lips
quirked. "You won't be the only one with a pounding skull tonight, I'll
wager."
She nodded,
smiling uncertainly at him. He wasn't exactly whom she would have imagined as
a chivalrous ally, but something in his eyes as he looked down at her made
Katherine believe that he would keep his word. ''Thank you again."
Just inside the
ballroom he looked sideways at her. "By the way, my friends call me
Nick," he murmured.
Katherine took
a breath, wondering what she was about to get herself into. ''Then I shall call
you Nicholas," she returned, and was rewarded by a surprised look that
quickly turned to one of appreciation and then was as swiftly gone.
He started forward again and nodded. "Nicholas it is, then."
7
F rom
a distance Nicholas watched Katherine explain to her godparents what had
happened. Neville's already ruddy face went redder as the two women were forced
to head him away from the balcony. After a moment of hushed argument they left
the room. When they were well away Nicholas made his way over to where his
mother sat with Lady Ann Sefton.
"Mama," he drawled, "I believe it is time for us to depart."
She looked up at him curiously, but when he said nothing else she took
leave of her companion and accepted the arm he offered her. "What is going
on?" she murmured.
"Something rather interesting just happened, and I don't want you
to pay for it," he returned, nodding as they passed the Hillarys.
''Oh, dear." She sighed. "What this time?"
"Francis DuPres is, how shall I say, sleeping, out on the balcony.
I imagine he'll be coming around any moment now," he said mildly, and her
fingers tightened around his sleeve.
"Mon dieu, what happened?"
"He was pawing Katherine Ralston." As he remembered
He chuckled and
pulled her closer. "I somehow don't think you're the fainting type,"
he noted.
She wound her
trembling hands into his jacket and rested her cheek on his shoulder while he
held her. Perhaps he wasn't as dastardly as she had thought. Laughter sounded
from inside the doorway, and she started and pulled away. He released her
immediately, but putting distance between them left her little reassured. To
be out here on the balcony with a man―or, worse, two men―was enough
to ruin her. If anyone found out that she had knocked one of them unconscious,
her godparents would probably have to ship her off to America and she'd never
see Crestley again. "Your Grace, please don't tell," she begged, paling,
and regretting every cutting remark she had made to him over the past weeks.
"No
worries," the duke replied immediately, his expression still amused.
"This is a secret I shall very much enjoy keeping." He glanced back
at DuPres. "And if our sleeping fool has any pride at all, I don't
believe he'll be repeating the tale, either." His eyes met hers and slid
to the doorway. "I do believe we should exit the battleground before we
are discovered, however."
She nodded,
then glanced into the gloom of the balcony behind him. "You are out here
alone?" she whispered.
He gazed at her
for a moment, then nodded. "You refer, of course, to Eloise LeMonde."
Katherine
shrugged, reluctant to anger him. "I wasn't―"
"Her interests, if she has any, are her own," he replied, and
pursed his lips ruefully. "How was Figaro?"
She smiled.
"Wonderful," she replied enthusiastically.
Impulsively she
touched his sleeve. "Thank you again for helping me, Your Grace," she
said, looking up at him.
"You're
welcome, Miss Ralston," he answered.
"Kate,"
she said.
"Beg
pardon?" he queried, raising an eyebrow.
"Please
call me Kate," she explained. They were conspirators of a sort now, and
she owed him for keeping her secret.
He looked down
at her for a long moment, then shook his head. "Katherine suits you
better," he said thoughtfully.
DuPres groaned,
and Sommesby took her hand and tucked it over his arm. "You shouldn't be
here when he emerges. I think you should have another headache." His lips
quirked. "You won't be the only one with a pounding skull tonight, I'll
wager."
She nodded,
smiling uncertainly at him. He wasn't exactly whom she would have imagined as
a chivalrous ally, but something in his eyes as he looked down at her made
Katherine believe that he would keep his word. ''Thank you again."
Just inside the
ballroom he looked sideways at her. "By the way, my friends call me
Nick," he murmured.
Katherine took
a breath, wondering what she was about to get herself into. ''Then I shall call
you Nicholas," she returned, and was rewarded by a surprised look that
quickly turned to one of appreciation and then was as swiftly gone.
He started forward again and nodded. "Nicholas it is, then."
7
F rom
a distance Nicholas watched Katherine explain to her godparents what had
happened. Neville's already ruddy face went redder as the two women were forced
to head him away from the balcony. After a moment of hushed argument they left
the room. When they were well away Nicholas made his way over to where his
mother sat with Lady Ann Sefton.
"Mama," he drawled, "I believe it is time for us to depart."
She looked up at him curiously, but when he said nothing else she took
leave of her companion and accepted the arm he offered her. "What is going
on?" she murmured.
"Something rather interesting just happened, and I don't want you
to pay for it," he returned, nodding as they passed the Hillarys.
''Oh, dear." She sighed. "What this time?"
"Francis DuPres is, how shall I say, sleeping, out on the balcony.
I imagine he'll be coming around any moment now," he said mildly, and her
fingers tightened around his sleeve.
"Mon dieu, what happened?"
"He was pawing Katherine Ralston." As he remembered
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