Bluestocking Bride by Elizabeth Thornton

women she had expected to see, but not the fops and dandies who strutted like peacocks from group to group, wearing their fine plumage as if they had been birds of paradise, with more jewels at their throats than the ladies they escorted. She became aware that one of the dandies, whom she had been gazing at unabashed, had raised his quizzing glass to return her stare. She inclined her head gravely in a polite bow and turned away lest her mirth be detected. Her eyes, sparkling with merriment, sought her sister, who had moved slightly apart to converse with two gentlemen, and as one of them broke away, Catherine found herself looking into the appraising gaze of the Marquis of Rutherston . He came to her side instantly and raised her gloved hand to his lips.
    Catherine had tried to prepare herself to meet this moment with equanimity, but when she looked into Rutherston's eyes, her heart turned over. It irritated her beyond measure to think that she had fallen in love with a man of his low morals, but she composed herself to speak and behave with a modicum of courtesy.
    "Catherine!" His voice was vibrant with pleasure. "How pleased I am to see you. I would talk with you away from this crush. Will you walk with me?"
    Catherine laid her hand upon the proffered arm and allowed herself to be led through the doors to the spacious corridor where several couples were promenading.
    "How beautiful you are." His gaze lingered on every part of her person. "I have never seen you look so lovely." The smile he gave her was the one he reserved to melt the hardest of female hearts. Catherine returned a wintry smile.
    "Naturally, my lord," she responded dryly. "How could it be otherwise. But it is Madame Celeste who deserves your compliment. It is one of her creations I am wearing." She would make him see that she was impervious to his charm.
    "So modest, Miss Harland?"
    "So insincere, Lord Rutherston ?"
    Rutherston was charmed. "Are we embarking on another contest?" he asked quizzically.
    "No! We are mismatched, my lord," she snapped shrewishly , then, conscious of her momentary slip and the interested gaze of a number of spectators nearby, she softened her words with her best disarming smile. "We play by different rules. There is no sport in that."
    "Indeed? I think that we make a perfect match ing." He gave her a speaking look. "And I am prepared to play by your rules." He bowed to some passing acquaintances, then turned to survey her, a small smile of complacency flickering at the corner of his mouth. Catherine noted it sourly and had the strongest desire to wipe the smirk from his face.
    "The only contest I am prepared to enter with you, my lord, is with dueling pistols at ten paces." She noted with satisfaction that the smile had vanished from Rutherston's face, to be replaced by a glowering frown.
    "And would your honor be satisfied then, Catherine? In any event, you must know, I could never harm you."
    "Such chivalry, my lord? I can scarcely believe it in you. But I should not be as obliging as you."
    "And am I never to be forgiven?" he demanded testily, stopping in his tracks to face her.
    "Do you want to rouse the suspicions of the whole world against us?" she hissed at him, routing him with his own words. "Let us walk on, my lord."
    "Catherine, my' name is Richard."
    "And my name, my lord, is Miss Harland."
    "I see! Then I am not forgiven?"
    "My memory is at fault. You must tell me what it is I have to forgive."
    Rutherston saw his chance of disabusing the overconfident young woman at his side of the notion that she could outmatch him in a game of wits.
    "It would give me the greatest pleasure, Miss Harland, to recall every moment of that encounter. Are you sure you wish me to continue? Say the word, and I shall oblige you."
    Catherine's false smile masked a snarl. "I know that your chivalry would not be long-lived, sir."
    "Richard!" trilled a voice close to Catherine's ear.
    She felt Rutherston's arm tense imperceptibly beneath her