Geek Girls Don't Date Dukes (30 page)

228

Gina Lamm

Geek Girls Don’t Date Dukes

“I had hoped to dance with you earlier, but I was

detained.”

“Oh?” She scanned the crowd for Lady Chesterfield.

A chaperone to run interference would make the

conversation much easier.

“Yes,” he said, patting her finger gently. “As a

member of the Fancy, I attend many of the tournaments.

There have been some exciting events of late, and our

next bout promises to surpass them. Lord Charleston

requested my assistance with a matter related to it, or I

should have been here in time to claim my waltz.” He

nodded to an acquaintance as they passed.

“Fancy?” she repeated, tilting her head toward him.

The name was completely unfamiliar, and she had to

admit talking about anything other than waltzing was a

great idea right then.

“The Fancy. Ah, I forget that you have lived abroad

for so long.” He smiled down at her like she was an igno-

rant child, which she guessed she was, to him. “Boxing

tournaments, Miss Ram. But they are not a tale for such

a proper young lady as yourself.”

“Oh, Miss Ram.” A young man with a rose- colored

waistcoat came up to her with a smile. “I do beg your

pardon, but I believe it is time for our dance.”

“Of course, Mr. Lowell.” She turned to the duke.

“Will you excuse me, Lord Granville?”

“Quite reluctantly,” he said, bowing over her hand.

“Perhaps afterward, I may again claim your attention?

There is a matter that I wish to discuss with you.”

Crap, crap, and triple crap.
She took a deep breath and put on her most polite act. “Yes, to be sure.”

As Mr. Lowell led her onto the dance floor, she

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worried the inside of her cheek. Her brain whirred like

a wind- up robot toy. The duke and boxing matches.

Avery’s bruises and muscles that were much too nice for

a valet to have…Could Granville have been forcing him

to fight? That didn’t seem likely. Granville was too nice.

She curtsied to Mr. Lowell as he bowed, and they

began the quadrille. Fortunately, she’d been practicing

Regency dances since she’d first planned to marry Mr.

Darcy, so she only had to pay a minimum of attention

to the steps.

Avery fought, and the duke was a member of the

Fancy. What was she missing? Weren’t fights like that

illegal? But there was something else, and she wished she

knew what it was.

“You look quite fine tonight, Miss Ram.” Mr. Lowell

nodded as he gripped her hand. They stepped together in

a line with another couple, moving to the music.

“Thank you,” she said. Turning, they moved through

the formation and took their place at the end of the line.

“If I may, Miss Ram.” He paused as another couple

passed them. “I should like to drive out with you in the

park if you are amenable.”

The thoughts of Avery and the duke and back alley

boxing matches slammed to a halt.
Oh, crap.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Lowell, but I don’t think that’s a

good idea.”

“Oh.” His face fell as they came together again for the

last pass of the dance. “My apologies for being so forward.”

“Oh, no.” She stumbled a little through the step.

He steadied her. “It’s nothing like that, it’s just…” She

trailed off as the music ended. “I wish I knew what

to say.”

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He shook his head ruefully. “I understand, Miss Ram.

I do wish you every happiness.”

He left her on the edge of the dance floor. She stared

after him with complete befuddlement.

When she was single, men never looked at her twice.

Why was it that once she’d found the man she wanted,

they seemed to be lining up in droves?

Sometimes the fates had a really twisted sense of humor.

“Chased the young pup off, I see,” the duke laughed

as he approached her. His silvery waistcoat matched his

hair tonight.

“It wasn’t like that. He had, erm, another person to

dance with.”

The duke nodded knowingly. “It is quite close in this

room. Would you care to walk onto the balcony with

me? There is something I would ask.”

“If you’d like, Your Grace,” Leah said, though her

eyes searched for any distraction she could plausibly use.

They passed through the crowd, which parted to

let them through like Moses and the freaking Red Sea.

Leah shook her head inwardly at the deference everyone

showed to Granville. She’d been no better than these

people only a few weeks ago. She’d only seen the title

and hadn’t looked past it to see the man himself.

Not that Granville was bad. Quite the opposite. He was

a sweet old man. But he was perfect for Lady Chesterfield,

not her. Her heart was too full of someone else.

The night air was fresh with a hint of chill. Leah drew

in a deep breath gratefully. It had really been stuffy in

there, too many people and too many layers of undergar-

ments. She’d never take her regular old cotton bra and

panties for granted again.

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“Miss Ram,” the duke said, placing a hand on her arm

and turning her to face him, “I had hoped to speak with

you about a matter of some delicacy.”

A little knot caught in Leah’s throat. “Of course,” she

said. Uh- oh. Had she been reading his signals wrong?

She hadn’t thought he was really into her, but he seemed

to be nervous. If he proposed to her right now, she’d fall

over in shock.

The duke took a deep breath. “Your aunt, Lady

Chesterfield.” He stopped, looking out over the dark-

ened lawn. Leah followed his gaze. He wasn’t really

looking at anything.

“My aunt?” she prodded.

“Yes. Of course. Your aunt.” He looked down at her,

smiling in a nervous but fatherly way. “Has she made

mention of me?”

So
that’s the way he’s rolling.
Relief nearly made Leah sag. “She talks about you all the time.”

His eyes lit up. “She does?”

Leah nodded. “I think she really likes you.”

“I see.”

They fell silent. Leah worried the inside of her cheek,

wondering what she should do to help this along.

“You know, Your Grace,” she said, looking down at

the toes of her slippers, “I think she’s really interested in you. Why don’t you ask her to the park? Or the theatre?”

He clasped his hands together behind his back. “The

dowager duchess is not in favor of my marrying again.”

“Oh. Oh. I see.” The memory of his mother made

Leah shudder. The poor man. “But you don’t need her

permission, right?”

“No, of course not.” He pursed his lips. “But my

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mother can make things, well, difficult, to say the least.

Since her dowry repaired the family fortunes, I find

myself somewhat dependent upon her good nature.”

Leah nodded knowingly. “Well, you could always— ”

A shot rang out. The lamppost beside them shattered,

raining glass onto the ground beside them.

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Twenty- Four

Avery ran after the Chesterfield carriage.

Thankfully, with the glut of conveyances leaving at

the same time, Leah and her chaperone were forced

to move slowly along the lane toward the home on

Hanover Square.

He kept his breath even as he followed at a distance.

Staying out of sight had not been easy for the past

weeks, but he’d had no choice. After the Swansdown

came the Berford. Prachett had demanded Avery lose

at both tourneys, promising to harm Leah if he did not

comply. Though the lies gnawed at him daily, he did

as he was bidden, losing to boxers who he could have

readily beaten. The duke had never mentioned anything,

Avery knew that his actions must look suspicious.

Besides, staying near to Leah would only have

strengthened the connection that should never have

formed at all—

that had put her very life in danger

tonight and all the nights she’d been in his life.

Then
why
do
you
follow
her
still?
his subconscious mocked him. He had no choice. The gunshot tonight

had been a warning from Prachett’s men; he knew that.

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To ensure Avery’s continued assistance, they would do

much worse to Leah.

Ignoring the thought, he ducked behind the manor

house just beyond Lady Chesterfield’s. He watched from

the cover of shrubbery as Lady Chesterfield and Leah

descended the carriage and headed into the house.

He sighed with relief, as he did every night when

she’d returned home safely. The carriage rumbled to a

start, heading for its home in the stables.

Guilt chased him, ever his constant companion. He

should not follow her. He should not steal after her in

the night like a thief. But it was his fault her life was in

danger. He must protect her if he could.

“Sorry, Lady Chesterfield. I forgot my fan in the

carriage.”

Leah’s voice floated to him, the sweet sound drawing

memories that he longed to relive. He ducked lower as

she descended the front steps and followed the path the

carriage had taken toward the stables.

Indecision gnawed at his gut. He should leave. He

should not speak to her, should not make his presence

known. She’d be angry with him. She may even hate

him for neglecting her, no matter his good intentions.

He stole after her anyway. Her presence was a lure he

could not deny. Pressing his back against the chilly stone

wall of the stable, he waited.

Her voice was indistinct as she spoke with the stable

lad. A light laugh whipped Avery across his chest. She

sounded so happy, so free. He looked downward, to

where his hands were fisted in front of him. He should

stay away. Her life was better without him.

“Avery?”

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Reflexively he brought his fists upward into a fighting

stance, dropping them a split second later when he real-

ized that Leah was looking straight at him, a delicate

white lace fan in her hands.

He stood straight and cleared his throat.

“Yes,” he said, frantically searching his brain for an

appropriate reason for his presence. “Miss Ramsey.

Good evening.”

Her fan thwacked across his arm. “What the
hell
is

your problem?”

“I beg your pardon?”

She gripped him by the hand and dragged him farther

into the shadows. He tried to ignore her closeness, but

the scent and heat of her body wrapped around him.

When she turned to him, fire in her eyes, it was all he

could do to prevent kissing her.

“I have been waiting to hear from you for
two
freaking
weeks
.” She punctuated her statement with a finger to his chest. “I thought you’d died or something. Where the

crap have you been?”

He caught her hand against his chest, pressing it to his

thumping heart. “I have been closer than you know.”

She delivered a soft kick to his shin. He grunted as

she connected with a still- healing bruise. “What, are you

stalking me now? Because that’s not sexy at all, even if

you were a sparkly vampire.”

He shook his head in confusion.

She rolled her eyes. “Never mind. But seriously, I’ve

missed you.”

“I have missed you as well,” he whispered, and bent

his head to hers. She jerked sideways, avoiding his kiss,

and disappointment flooded him.

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“No way,” she said. “No kissing until we’ve talked

some things through.”

A noise from behind him grabbed his attention, and

he pressed a finger to Leah’s lips. Together they watched

as the stable hands left for their quarters, apparently

having finished their duties for the evening.

“Come here,” Leah whispered, and led him into the

warmth of the stables.

The heavy scents of horseflesh, leather, and straw

perfumed the air. Avery lit the lamp by the doorway, and

together he and Leah made their way to an empty stall

near the back of the stables.

The lamp’s metal hook rasped as he hung it above

the stall door. Words ran rampant through his brain as

he rehearsed them silently. He must remember all the

reasons that he and Miss Ramsey could not be together.

Never mind Prachett. He’d been careless before. He

could have left her with child, after all. There was