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It took Eleanor a second to consider an answer because she was so caught up in the dancing. When she looked back now, she had been rigid and afraid with her previous partners, which made it easier to concentrate on a conversation.

“No,” Eleanor stated. “I haven’t heard a word about my dowry from any of them, and they have all been perfect gentlemen. You could be completely wrong about all of them.”

“Fine, but don’t try to tell me that you had more fun out here dancing with any of them than you are having with me,” he said.

“I don’t need to tell you anything.” Eleanor tried not to think about how much she was enjoying the dance at that moment. “I try to enjoy every dance equally.” How could she admit that the duke outshone all other partners on the dance floor?

“You are not a good liar,” the duke told her. “I was watching you the entire time, and I could read your face like a book. Perhaps you were happy to be dancing, and you are excited to be at your first event, but I saw no joy or glee on your face.”

“And I suppose you will tell me next that I’m filled with joy now that I’m dancing with you?”

“First, I would like you to maintain your smile when we are conversing.” The duke spun her in a circle before pulling her in close again. “We want to give the people a show, but not that type of show. They must think we are having the best time and make them jealous. We don’t want them to think we are bickering, so they may go away and gossip about us.”

Eleanor plastered her very best smile on her face.

“And I won’t tell you that you are filled with joy to be dancing with me, but I can see in your flushed face and the slight breathlessness that this is the best dance you have ever had.”

“Oh, what? Out of four?” Eleanor argued. “Well, congratulations to you, Your Grace.”

“Yes, congratulations to me,” he agreed. “Perhaps there is a little fun to have amid your constant feistiness. And on top of that, I have readied you for your next partner. So, yes, congratulations to me, and you should be thanking me.”

“The Diamond of the Season thanks no one,” Eleanor gushed.

The duke burst out laughing; it was a hearty laugh that wasn’t put on. “And an ego to match my own.”

“Oh, no, don’t claim that,” Eleanor warned. “I have no such ego. And we are nothing alike. I am having fun, and all you can do is denigrate any man who comes near me.”

“Do any of the men you have danced with so far deserve to be your husband?” the duke asked. When Eleanor didn’t answer, he added, “You must hold yourself in the highest regard. If they don’t deserve you, it is fine to admit it.”

“Yes, but the way you are going about it, there won’t be a man in London who deserves me. I’m not some goddess to be feared by men, and I’m not a child who’s been left for you to control. All I want is a decent man, and that will do me just fine. You are a fine judge of character, aren’t you? How do you judge your own character?”

With that, the dance came to an end.

Eleanor breathed heavily. The dance had affected that in part because of the closeness with her partner, but also the way he annoyed her so easily. They held each other, locked in their gaze, until partners began leaving the dance floor.

“I need some air,” Eleanor said, her face flushed. “I don’t need company.”

“I shall fetch your mother,” the duke suggested.

Eleanor left the dance floor, hoping to get a step ahead of him so he would have to follow behind, but he was too quick, and he walked beside her instead of finding her mother. She headed for the balcony that Lottie had mentioned earlier, drawn by the slight breeze of cool air that wafted through the hall.

When she merged into the night air, she felt free. Eleanor walked straight to the stonework at the far edge, passing the only people out there who weren’t heading back inside. She leaned on the cold stone to bring her temperature down and looked out at the endless void of stars in the blackness.

“Why did you scare off the lord who wished to dance with me?” Eleanor asked, knowing that the duke was standing behind her. “Because you don’t think anyone is good enough for me?

“Do you think everyone is good enough for you?” the duke replied. “I hold you to a high standard, and you should hold yourself to the same.”

Eleanor felt her skin prickle with goosebumps, and she blamed it on the chill in the air.

Eleanor spun around to face her chaperone.

“I warned you about dictating my life.” She placed her hands on her hips. “First, you inform me of what these men want from me, which is my family’s land and money, and then you brazenly cut in and take a dance for yourself when the lord could have been my future husband.”

“Lord who?” the duke asked.

Eleanor tried to think of his name, but it wouldn’t come to mind.

“That’s not the point,” she blustered. “I don’t want you interfering with my life, and you went to great lengths to inform me that you would be overseeing my Seasons and how much of a hassle that would be for you. Then you go and insert yourself into my evening for your own amusement. I hope it was worth it for you because it certainly wasn’t worth it for me.”