Much Ado About Dukes

“And that is but one instance, and one rather easily dealt with,” Margaret confessed.

A muscle tightened in his jaw. “You both seem so…”

“Resigned?” Beatrice prompted.

He gave a terse nod.

She shrugged again. “As said, it is the lot of ladies. Gentlemen are ever doing what they wish, despite what we wish.”

A look of grim fury overtook him, and he blew out a breath. “I appreciate your education of my naïveté. But I’m not certain I can do as you ask.”

“Of course not,” she replied. “How predictable.”

His grim look turned to one of strange contradiction as something clearly warred within him. It would have been comical if not for the fact that there was a genuine serious point to the conversation.

“It is not suitable for me to teach you to box,” he replied, his voice rougher, with more emotion than she’d ever heard from him.

“Why not?” she queried innocently.

A look of sheer torture crossed his face. “Because ladies don’t…”

She gave him a knowing smile.

And then he stopped himself. “You’ve admirably maneuvered me into a corner, Lady Beatrice. If you so wish it, I shall happily teach you to box, but I’m not sure that Gentlemen Jackson shall allow you to enter.”

“Of course not,” she said, surprisingly cheerful as she helped him see just how ignorant he was to the lives of her sisterhood. “Ladies are not allowed. We are not allowed in many of the hallowed realms gentlemen fill.”

Her mocking tone seemed to strike him.

“You are ever correct,” he stated without rancor.

“Which must be most difficult for you, since, no doubt,” she replied, “you are accustomed to being the one in that position.”

Another strange look passed over his visage, but then he let out a sigh.

“Surely you can teach me in my home?” she offered, wondering if he would renege.

But he was caught. Well and truly. “I’d be delighted.”

“Good. It is a beginning,” she stated, triumphant.

“Yes,” he agreed. “A beginning. And I have a feeling you shall lay me out upon the floor. For you have the wily mind of a boxer.”

It was perhaps the greatest compliment she’d ever received from a man.

He gave her a tight smile. “Now, if you’ll forgive me, I must go and ensure my horse is not halfway to Cornwall before I meet my brothers.”

He gave them both a bow and turned. As he strode away with as much dignity as he could muster with clothes soaking and boots creaking, Lady Beatrice found herself alarmed. There was something about Blackheath. All her life, she’d known she’d never be intrigued by a man. Not when she’d had such an example of perfect marriage before her. Not when the world could steal everything from her if she miscalculated.

But without question, Beatrice was intrigued. And that was most alarming.

As her heart hammered and breath tightened at the sight of him walking away, she blew out a frustrated sound.

“Are we to live out our lives in the hands of dukes?” she exclaimed before she turned and started heading down the Serpentine in the direction of Kensington Palace.

Margaret hastened her step to keep up, her pink parasol bobbing. “Indeed! For it is the way of the world.”

The way of the world, ha! She stalked along the gravel path. How the devil had he made her feel so awoken by him and yet flummoxed all at once?