Read Online Marry Christmas (Zebra Historical Romance) by Jane Goodger - Free Book Online
Authors: Jane Goodger
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nonchalant as possible, but obviously failing.
“You needn’t worry. He is a gentleman and knows how to deport himself with debutantes,” the duke said rather testily.
“Have I angered you?”
Rand let out a puff of air. “No. I’m sorry if I am not better company this evening. I find these sorts of entertainments akin to subtle torture. And now it appears the only other person I know here will be duly occupied for most of the evening.”
Elizabeth smiled wryly. “Then we are in agreement on that point, at least.”
Elizabeth fiddled with the cord of her dance card nervously, until she realized what she was doing and dragged her hands to her sides.
“Do you ride?” the duke asked.
“I adore riding my bicycle,” Elizabeth answered with out thinking. “Oh, you meant a horse. I have been on two horses in my life and was completely terrified both times.” The duke looked slightly disappointed, as she thought he might. “Do many women ride in England?” she asked, feigning ignorance. In her short time in England the year before she had been amazed at the horsemanship nearly all the women displayed.
“Every woman rides in England,” he said dryly.
Elizabeth suddenly felt overwhelmed by everything she did not know about living in England and being a duchess. She hadn’t gotten past the idea of not marrying Henry, never mind what her day-to-day life would be as a duchess. Would she sit on a throne and look down upon her subjects with a frown, commanding them to do her bidding? Would she sit about planning balls and soirees? Would this be her life? It seemed gloomy and interminably boring to her.
“You’ve never been on a fox hunt, then.”
He might have asked if she’d gone to the moon. “No.
Not a one.”
“Good,” he surprised her by saying. “Not much for the hunt, to be honest, though you’ll find many are in England. But you must learn to ride. Absolutely.” He said it with a smile, but he sounded so imperious she felt her anger piqued.
“I don’t care to learn. I truly don’t see the need with motorcars becoming more in vogue. And, of course, bicycles. It’s marvelous exercise and when you’re done with it, you simply put it away. Without feeding it or fueling it. Have you ever been on a bicycle, Your Grace?”
Rand looked down at the stubborn turn of her face and suppressed a chuckle. She really was trying to thwart him at every turn, and instead of being annoyed with her, he found her charming. It was difficult to believe this was the same girl he’d had an agonizing dinner with, one who sat stiffly and whose addition to the conversation was a sedate nod. “A bicycle? No. I have not had the chance to try.”
“Well, riding a bicycle is absolutely imperative,” she said, sounding as lofty as he had insisting she learn to ride a horse.
He grinned down at her and she smiled back. “Touché,” he said, doffing an imaginary hat. Her eyes sparkled, even though she was trying valiantly not to smile. It was almost as if she’d made a pact with herself not to like him no matter what he did. No woman, at least none he’d ever heard of, had disliked him. Edward would certainly have told him if one had.
“Ah. Our waltz is next,” he said as the last strains of the country dance sounded.
Elizabeth gave him a startled look, which she quickly masked. Her face completely expressionless, she put a hand lightly on his arm as he led her out to the floor where they awaited the first strains of the Blue Danube.
He nearly smiled again when he realized he might as well have been dancing with a phantom, her touch was so light. Suddenly he decided to have none of it, and as the orchestra began to play, he swirled her about, forcing her to either stumble or grab on for her very life.
“There you go,” he said grimly. “You have not melted from my touch.”
Her cheeks flamed making her look even more beautiful, and it struck Rand that if he had to marry some one, he was damned lucky to
“You needn’t worry. He is a gentleman and knows how to deport himself with debutantes,” the duke said rather testily.
“Have I angered you?”
Rand let out a puff of air. “No. I’m sorry if I am not better company this evening. I find these sorts of entertainments akin to subtle torture. And now it appears the only other person I know here will be duly occupied for most of the evening.”
Elizabeth smiled wryly. “Then we are in agreement on that point, at least.”
Elizabeth fiddled with the cord of her dance card nervously, until she realized what she was doing and dragged her hands to her sides.
“Do you ride?” the duke asked.
“I adore riding my bicycle,” Elizabeth answered with out thinking. “Oh, you meant a horse. I have been on two horses in my life and was completely terrified both times.” The duke looked slightly disappointed, as she thought he might. “Do many women ride in England?” she asked, feigning ignorance. In her short time in England the year before she had been amazed at the horsemanship nearly all the women displayed.
“Every woman rides in England,” he said dryly.
Elizabeth suddenly felt overwhelmed by everything she did not know about living in England and being a duchess. She hadn’t gotten past the idea of not marrying Henry, never mind what her day-to-day life would be as a duchess. Would she sit on a throne and look down upon her subjects with a frown, commanding them to do her bidding? Would she sit about planning balls and soirees? Would this be her life? It seemed gloomy and interminably boring to her.
“You’ve never been on a fox hunt, then.”
He might have asked if she’d gone to the moon. “No.
Not a one.”
“Good,” he surprised her by saying. “Not much for the hunt, to be honest, though you’ll find many are in England. But you must learn to ride. Absolutely.” He said it with a smile, but he sounded so imperious she felt her anger piqued.
“I don’t care to learn. I truly don’t see the need with motorcars becoming more in vogue. And, of course, bicycles. It’s marvelous exercise and when you’re done with it, you simply put it away. Without feeding it or fueling it. Have you ever been on a bicycle, Your Grace?”
Rand looked down at the stubborn turn of her face and suppressed a chuckle. She really was trying to thwart him at every turn, and instead of being annoyed with her, he found her charming. It was difficult to believe this was the same girl he’d had an agonizing dinner with, one who sat stiffly and whose addition to the conversation was a sedate nod. “A bicycle? No. I have not had the chance to try.”
“Well, riding a bicycle is absolutely imperative,” she said, sounding as lofty as he had insisting she learn to ride a horse.
He grinned down at her and she smiled back. “Touché,” he said, doffing an imaginary hat. Her eyes sparkled, even though she was trying valiantly not to smile. It was almost as if she’d made a pact with herself not to like him no matter what he did. No woman, at least none he’d ever heard of, had disliked him. Edward would certainly have told him if one had.
“Ah. Our waltz is next,” he said as the last strains of the country dance sounded.
Elizabeth gave him a startled look, which she quickly masked. Her face completely expressionless, she put a hand lightly on his arm as he led her out to the floor where they awaited the first strains of the Blue Danube.
He nearly smiled again when he realized he might as well have been dancing with a phantom, her touch was so light. Suddenly he decided to have none of it, and as the orchestra began to play, he swirled her about, forcing her to either stumble or grab on for her very life.
“There you go,” he said grimly. “You have not melted from my touch.”
Her cheeks flamed making her look even more beautiful, and it struck Rand that if he had to marry some one, he was damned lucky to
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