An Unsuitable Duchess by Laurie Benson

grandmother shook her head and the coughing miraculously stopped. ‘A glass of lemonade should help ease the tickle in my throat,’ she said, patting her chest. She grasped Julian’s sleeve and gave it a subtle tug, leaving him no choice but to walk with her to the refreshment table.
    He handed her a glass and held back a laugh when she poured in some clear liquid from a small silver flask. He wasn’t certain what she had added, but as long as it was potent he didn’t really care. Selecting a glass, he held it out to her, and she added a generous splash. The smell of gin reached Julian’s nose as he raised the glass to his lips. If his father had been alive now the man would have had an apoplexy, knowing the matriarch of their family carried gin on her person. However, if it would help Julian survive an evening in the marriage mart he would not admonish her.
    ‘Do you see her?’ his grandmother asked as her gaze trailed over the room.
    He had known she was up to something! He took a long drink. ‘To whom are you referring?’
    ‘Oh, I think you know.’
    ‘What exactly are you plotting?’
    ‘Why do you believe I am plotting anything?’ she asked, arching an inquisitive brow.
    ‘I am not dim-witted,’ replied Julian, and he arched his brow in return.
    ‘No, you are not.’
    ‘That was not an answer.’
    ‘What was the question?’
    He momentarily closed his eyes. When he looked back at her the glass in her hand was empty. ‘I’m trying to decide if it is wise to give you more lemonade.’
    She reached behind him and took another glass. ‘You do not need to attend to me all evening. You should look around. You might find someone of interest.’
    Julian eyed his grandmother in annoyance. Why did the women in his life seem to have this need to meddle in his affairs? He stood near her, refusing to give any indication that he was in search of a wife. However, this time when his gaze travelled across the room he easily spotted Miss Vandenberg amid the whirl of white. He was transfixed as he watched her attempt to move gracefully through a quadrille with that idiot Lord Boreham.
    ‘Are you going to dance with her?’ the pest at his side whispered.
    He glanced down at her. ‘I have no desire to dance this evening.’
    ‘Forgive me. I thought you had found something that held your attention. I must have been mistaken.’
    ‘You most certainly were,’ he replied, his eyes inexplicably drawn back to the dancing couple.
    She lowered her voice even further. ‘If that is Miss Vandenberg, Madame de Lieven will know if she has been given permission to waltz.’
    Julian stared at his grandmother, aghast. ‘I have never waltzed here, and I do not intend to do so now.’
    However, if they did waltz together he would have her undivided attention. She would not be able to leave the conversation when it was convenient for her, as she had each time they’d spoken in the past.
    A smile tugged at his lips as he watched her walk off the dance floor.
    * * *
    When the quadrille ended Katrina returned to Mrs Forrester and Sarah, who were standing near one of the white gilded columns. She was grateful for the reprieve.
    ‘You appear to have both feet intact,’ Sarah teased. ‘Perhaps Lord Boreham has taken dancing lessons.’
    Fanning herself to cool her heated body, Katrina smirked. ‘No, I have simply become adept at hiding my pain.’
    ‘Did you hear about the caricature that was printed of him recently?’ Sarah asked, staring questioningly into her glass of lemonade.
    Most of these satires mocked political figures and the Prince Regent. Katrina knew there were others that were drawn of certain members of the ton , but since she was fairly new to London, and not well acquainted with too many people, she never paid much attention to them. However, now she was intrigued. ‘What does it look like?’
    Sarah glanced over at Lord Boreham, who was standing a few feet away with a group of young bucks. ‘In it he is