Romance: Detective Romance: A Vicious Affair (Victorian Regency Intrigue 19th England Romance) (Historical Mystery Detective Romance) by Lisa Andersen Page B
Authors: Lisa Andersen
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such ghastly things. I do believe that was why you married me.”
Mother shook her head, but a smile touched her lips.
“I do hope he returns for that dance,” Rebecca said.
*****
Rebecca’s hopes were not disappointed. His Grace walked over to them around half an hour later and asked her to dance with him. They held each other at arm’s length, and strutted around the dance floor in practiced, and sometimes graceful, steps. “You would scare a lesser man away, with such a display of brazenness,” His Grace said, barely moving his lips.
Rebecca danced as naturally as before, but her heart was beating like a hammer in her chest. “I do not believe I have been called scary before,” she said. The dancers twirled around and around the floor, and yet Rebecca felt as though she and His Grace barely moved.
“I can envision may types of men being frightened by you, my lady,” His Grace said, with a wry smile. “Perhaps it is only that my heart has been hardened by years of war that I am able to sustain such punishment from you, my lady.”
“I do not believe even war could prepare you for my concentrated scorn,” Rebecca said. Mother will not be happy . She quickly added: “Your Grace.”
She knew full well that it was within His Grace’s power to ruin her there and then for speaking so out of turn. Her family would be labelled impudent and presumptuous and Mother would never talk to her again and Father would grow more and more distant. She knew all of this, and yet she could not stop herself. There was an excitement in this moment that could not be found in diurnal life. She awaited His Grace’s response with a building sense of dread.
Finally, His Grace spoke (all the while they were dancing, moving as one, in measured steps around the ballroom). “I do believe you have me stumped, my lady,” His Grace said, his voice suddenly become cold. “I do believe that quite bested me, in fact. And look, the dance has ended.” He dropped her hands and retreated from the floor as though it was a battlefield.
Rebecca watched him go with a sense of dread. Had she just offended His Grace in some way? Had she just put her family in an awful position?
*****
“But what happened?” Mother said. “What did you say to His Grace?”
They were in the carriage, the ball was over, and they were going home. After the dance with His Grace, many other lords had danced with Rebecca, but they had found her cold and distant. No matter what they said, her mind had gone back to His Grace, and the conversation they had had; and the possible outrage she had caused. She had thought that they, for a moment, were outside the normal realm of things; that they existed alone. But now she saw how foolish that was.
“Rebecca,” Mother said seriously. “What happened between you and His Grace that caused him to flee like that?”
“He did not flee, Mother,” Rebecca said stiffly. “The dance was over. What did you expect him to do? He could not simply stand there, once the dance was over, could he?”
“Do not be rude, Rebecca,” Mother said. “He left the floor with considerable alacrity. Would you really have me believe that there was not a reason for his swiftness?”
“I do not presume to know the motives of His Grace, Mother,” Rebecca said, struggling to hide her anger—and her shame. “And neither should you.”
“Come, now,” Father said. “Cannot we be friends? An Emerson does not treat an Emerson with such suspicion.”
“And a Leverton does not treat a daughter so,” Auntie muttered.
“Fine,” Mother said, relenting. “I can see you are all against me.”
*****
Rebecca, no matter how much she tried, could not prevent herself from going over the events of the ball. She kept seeing His Grace in her mind’s eye, the gracefulness of his dance steps, his wry smile and his cold eyes. She could not believe that she had offended a man like that. Indeed, going over the events in
Mother shook her head, but a smile touched her lips.
“I do hope he returns for that dance,” Rebecca said.
*****
Rebecca’s hopes were not disappointed. His Grace walked over to them around half an hour later and asked her to dance with him. They held each other at arm’s length, and strutted around the dance floor in practiced, and sometimes graceful, steps. “You would scare a lesser man away, with such a display of brazenness,” His Grace said, barely moving his lips.
Rebecca danced as naturally as before, but her heart was beating like a hammer in her chest. “I do not believe I have been called scary before,” she said. The dancers twirled around and around the floor, and yet Rebecca felt as though she and His Grace barely moved.
“I can envision may types of men being frightened by you, my lady,” His Grace said, with a wry smile. “Perhaps it is only that my heart has been hardened by years of war that I am able to sustain such punishment from you, my lady.”
“I do not believe even war could prepare you for my concentrated scorn,” Rebecca said. Mother will not be happy . She quickly added: “Your Grace.”
She knew full well that it was within His Grace’s power to ruin her there and then for speaking so out of turn. Her family would be labelled impudent and presumptuous and Mother would never talk to her again and Father would grow more and more distant. She knew all of this, and yet she could not stop herself. There was an excitement in this moment that could not be found in diurnal life. She awaited His Grace’s response with a building sense of dread.
Finally, His Grace spoke (all the while they were dancing, moving as one, in measured steps around the ballroom). “I do believe you have me stumped, my lady,” His Grace said, his voice suddenly become cold. “I do believe that quite bested me, in fact. And look, the dance has ended.” He dropped her hands and retreated from the floor as though it was a battlefield.
Rebecca watched him go with a sense of dread. Had she just offended His Grace in some way? Had she just put her family in an awful position?
*****
“But what happened?” Mother said. “What did you say to His Grace?”
They were in the carriage, the ball was over, and they were going home. After the dance with His Grace, many other lords had danced with Rebecca, but they had found her cold and distant. No matter what they said, her mind had gone back to His Grace, and the conversation they had had; and the possible outrage she had caused. She had thought that they, for a moment, were outside the normal realm of things; that they existed alone. But now she saw how foolish that was.
“Rebecca,” Mother said seriously. “What happened between you and His Grace that caused him to flee like that?”
“He did not flee, Mother,” Rebecca said stiffly. “The dance was over. What did you expect him to do? He could not simply stand there, once the dance was over, could he?”
“Do not be rude, Rebecca,” Mother said. “He left the floor with considerable alacrity. Would you really have me believe that there was not a reason for his swiftness?”
“I do not presume to know the motives of His Grace, Mother,” Rebecca said, struggling to hide her anger—and her shame. “And neither should you.”
“Come, now,” Father said. “Cannot we be friends? An Emerson does not treat an Emerson with such suspicion.”
“And a Leverton does not treat a daughter so,” Auntie muttered.
“Fine,” Mother said, relenting. “I can see you are all against me.”
*****
Rebecca, no matter how much she tried, could not prevent herself from going over the events of the ball. She kept seeing His Grace in her mind’s eye, the gracefulness of his dance steps, his wry smile and his cold eyes. She could not believe that she had offended a man like that. Indeed, going over the events in
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