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Benedict's blood boiled. "For the last time,
I know how to smile!"

"Don't shout, my dear, I'm sitting right
here." Agatha shuddered. "Either way, I've taken care of it for
you."

Devil's teeth. Those were words one never
wanted to hear from one's insane aunt. The same aunt who thought it
stylish to fasten feathers to her lap dog.

Agatha smiled. "I've merely suggested you pay
court to their daughter until the Kringle Ball in two weeks' time.
If, by then, you've failed in all aspects of intelligent
conversation and of course, managed not one smile, which I do think
will be a challenge, then the betrothal is off."

Benedict opened his mouth to curse, as well
as tell his aunt exactly what he thought about her little deal, but
her loud voice cut him off.

"She was found, on top of you, Benedict, at a
society function. Have a care for her reputation and at least see
this through. Imagine what your mother would say."

With that, Agatha rose to her feet and exited
the room. The slamming of the door sounding much like the final
nail in his bachelor's coffin. For Agatha, manipulative little
thing that she was, knew his weakness. The one weakness he had.

His deceased mother.

"Bloody hell," he muttered and followed
Agatha out of the room.

Foxed

Katherine wanted to
cry
, but to waste tears on such a horrid man seemed truly
ridiculous. Dabbing at her eyes, considering they were going to
turn into watering pots at any minute, she took a deep breath and
walked back into the ballroom.

Her father and mother had just spent the past
half hour trying to convince her of the smart match with the Duke
of Banbury. She had argued until he throat was sore, giving every
excuse under the sun, violence not included for obvious reasons,
that they were ill-suited for one another.

When, in desperation she finally did mention
the accidents that befell the duke every time in her presence, her
mother merely asked, "Could you at least try to be less clumsy?
Perhaps if you practiced."

"I do not think I understand your meaning,"
Katherine had said, as dread writhed in her stomach.

"What your mother is trying to say…" Her
father cleared his throat and looked off into the distance.
"Perhaps if you tried to be more feminine. You know, learned how to
properly walk instead of stomping all over the place. Decided not
to speak your mind. You know what I'm saying." He cleared his
throat again. "Lower your threshold of intelligence so that other
fellows don't feel so intimidated, then you would make a good
match. The Devil Duke would have to marry you then. He'd have
nothing to object to."

"It is
I
who object to
him
!"
Katherine said through clenched teeth.

"Of course, my dear." Her mother patted her
hand. "So what shall we tell him?"

In the end, they had come up with a
compromise. If he could win their daughter before the Kringles'
ball, they would marry. If not, well, if not then Katherine would
still be in a pickle, because by all accounts she was still
ruined.

Unless, the Duke of Banbury denied all
accusations. But even if he did, people would still stare and
wonder what did go on that night.

Her parents left her to make herself
presentable, which was quite difficult considering she had a
blasted headache, and her ankle hurt. In the end, she only managed
to pinch her cheeks and walk out into the ballroom.

And now she was trying not to cry for the
third time that night. What she wouldn't give to punch the man in
the face. He didn't want her, and it seemed nobody would now that
she had been ruined by the very man mamas warned their daughters
about.

Who would want a girl that even the Devil
chose not to marry?

She took a shaky breath. Lovely first
meeting. Tonight she'd had every intention of gaining the attention
of the Scottish duke. Now, she was limping, betrothed, and ready to
yell at any man who dared cross her path.

"Hullo there! You must be Lady Katherine!" an
irritating voice bellowed behind her. Slowly, she turned. A man, a
very attractive man, stood not five feet away from her. Cheeky grin
in place, he gave a quick bow. "May I steal you for a dance?"

She wanted to say no, she really did, it was
on the tip of her tongue, not that the man was disagreeable; he was
actually quite handsome, if one liked dark red hair and blue eyes.
But, the last thing she wanted was to have a meaningless
conversation when she was still trying to keep her eyes from
tearing up.

And then, she saw him. Across the room. Lips
in a firm line of hatred. Lovely, perhaps he would smite her with
his smolder. One could only hope, at least in heaven she wouldn't
be betrothed.

"I'd love to," she heard herself say, then
glared back at Benedict. His scowl said it all. He actually kicked
the floor before disappearing behind another couple.

Unbelievable.

Katherine returned her gaze to the man she'd
just agreed to dance with. His beauty was actually quite flawless,
if one liked dandies or perhaps fops. His waistcoat glowed, causing
her eyes to burn just slightly. But that was the result when one
was wearing a bright yellow piece of clothing. Perhaps he was color
blind? He led her to the middle of the ballroom floor and bowed.
She stifled a snort when the couple next to them scowled.
Truthfully, it wasn't necessary to bow that low unless she was
royalty.

He was still facing the floor as the music
started, and then with a sweeping gesture he pulled her into his
arms.

Winded, for they were moving vigorously in
the wrong direction of the steps, Katherine managed a tight smile
and grunted when they stepped toward one another and he stepped on
her toes.

Goodness, did she have to endure an entire
dance with this man?

Apparently, she did. Perhaps this was her
punishment for succumbing to the Devil Duke's charms. Truthfully,
she had no idea what had come over her, and then to have Baldwyn
see it all, well it was turning out to be the worst night of her
life, and then…

"May I cut in?" the Duke of Paisley's deep
timbre sent a shudder down her spine. She paused in the dance and
looked up. He was making an absolute scene. Mayhap he did have
feelings for her? But hadn't his engagement just been
announced?

So, she was to be the pity dance.

Lovely.

Always great to know when she was wanted by
the man she loved the most.

Her dandified partner, whose name she still
hadn't been given, glared, and hopped off. Literally had a hop in
his step as he tried to storm the room.

The music continued to drift, dancers swirled
around her and the Scottish duke held out his gloved hand.

So this was what it felt like to want and not
have.

Reluctantly, she put her hand in his as he
gently pulled her into the dance with a smoothness unmatched by any
man except his cousin, the very man she did not wish to think of.
Paisley had always been the kind one when they were little, and now
he was looking upon her the same way Banbury did — pity and not an
inch of attraction. Had she really changed so little? The thought
darkened her mood; perhaps that was why she was labeled a spinster.
She'd had offers, but none of them were from her heart's true
desire. Suddenly depressed, she grimaced.

"Are you alright?" he asked smoothly. His
face was turned away from hers as if watching. With his red cheeks
and blazing eyes, she wasn't sure if he was foxed or just plain
irritated.

"I'm fine, th-thank you," she stuttered as
she took another sweeping step.

"Don't know why it's my lot in life to have
to save every simpering female within the realm. Have you any idea
who that man was?"

"A dandy?" she guessed.

He did not look amused; instead his eyes took
on more fury, drilling a hole through her very person. "That was
Sir Elliot himself, the very same man, who just a few weeks ago,
was found ravaging the very young Lady Lillian Derby."

"Him?" Katherine tried not to look amused,
but the idea of that man ravishing anything was inconceivable. "And
here I thought it was Banbury who did all the ruining."

"Looks can be quite deceiving, and believe
me, Banbury isn't without his faults, but when it comes to women,
he has more of a mature taste." His eyes scanned her from head to
toe as if to say,
Pity, you aren't one of them.
He shrugged
and continued to glare in the opposite direction toward the
wall.

"How is the girl?" Katherine asked needing to
change the subject before she burst into tears. Is that how all men
saw her? First she was a spinster, and now she was hardly a woman!
Not even good enough for the Devil Duke to freely ruin and not good
enough for Paisley either.

"Ruined, at the young age of one and six. You
would do well to stay away from him."

At least he would try to ruin her, whereas
everyone else found her disagreeable.

"Noted." She gulped and took one last turn
just as Benedict's voice rose above the music.

Paisley searched the crowd, his eyes darting
back and forth and then suddenly stilled, a smile lit his face.
Katherine followed his gaze and with a sinking stomach spotted the
last man she wanted to see—Benedict. Cheeks ruddy and stance not at
all sturdy, the man was completely and utterly foxed.

What a grand night this had turned out to
be.

Katherine pulled away, thoroughly disgusted
with not only her behavior but that of her betrothed, and to be
honest, a little heartsick that the very man she had loved since
she was a small girl was doing nothing but a small favor.
Protecting her as if she was still a girl of nine years.

Had nobody noticed that she was a woman? Did
she need to shout it just as Benedict was shouting now?

Though he wasn't using words, merely grunts,
and thankfully the music was loud enough to drown out some of his
bellow.

He reached her side and pulled her
aggressively across his body, sending a seething glare to Paisley
before using her as a crutch to leave the room.

She said nothing.

Katherine kept silent, which was a small
miracle in and of itself, and helped Benedict to the doors leading
outside. It was when she reached the double doors that she stole a
glance back at Paisley, whose eyes were trained on Lady Anastasia
as if she was his water in a drought. Katherine suppressed a sigh
of longing. Would any man ever look at her with such hunger? For
she did not miss the way his eyes hooded the minute they set upon
Lady Anastasia. She felt herself blush as she looked back down at
the ground feeling suddenly very much an imposter.

Heartsick, she swallowed the lump in her
throat and helped Banbury down the remaining stairs.

He slurred for his carriage.

Katherine rolled her eyes.

This was her life. Helping the drunken Devil
Duke into his carriage while licking her wounds from the other duke
who was too pigheaded to do anything worthwhile and thought her
nothing but a schoolgirl.

The fact that they were both foxed and angry
just irritated her all the more.

The carriage seemed to take years. The
footman jumped down to help the duke into the carriage.

"Good riddance," she uttered under her breath
as she turned on her heel.

"Wait," Banbury called, his voice strangely
quiet.

Against her better judgment, she stopped in
her tracks. With a resigned sigh, she turned back to the carriage
and leaned in.

"I forgot…" Banbury ran a gloved hand through
his perfectly dark hair.

"What did you forget?"

"My betrothed."

With strength of a god, he pulled her into
the carriage, causing her to tumble across his lap just as the
blasted horses took off.

If she wasn't ruined before, she was good and
ruined now. Her last thoughts before the Devil Duke brought her to
his lap and kissed her.

To Dare the Duke

One kiss, just one
blasted kiss.

Blind rage had engulfed his entire body when
he saw Baldwyn dancing with Katherine. An emotion he had never
before experienced slammed into his chest, stealing the breath
straight from him. Unable to speak, he had resorted to bellowing in
the large ballroom rather than politely walking up to the couple
and punching his cousin in the face.

Truthfully, everyone within the vicinity was
lucky he'd been foxed, for even he was not drunk enough to falsely
believe he would be a good shot. Not with how heavy his body had
felt.

It was all Rawlings' fault, for he had found
great amusement in goading Benedict to drink more. And then Renwick
had joined in, and some other gentleman who had a twin, and to be
honest, it was all quite fuzzy after that.

Montmouth told him he should sleep it
off.

And he'd been planning to.

Really he had been.

Until he saw her.

Heaven above, she was beautiful, and she
really didn't have a right to be anything but disagreeable and
ugly. After all, she had nearly killed him and then ruined him, a
renowned scoundrel of all people, in front of his aunt!

Without logic entering into the equation, he
grabbed the minx by the arm and brought her outside.

His only goal to scare her and warn her of
dalliances with other men. If he was to placate her family, he
needed to have his two weeks without any competition. Not that he
was worried he would lose, it just didn't seem fair.

But once he opened his mouth, her vanilla
scent bombarded him nearly sending him to his knees, and once again
he was filled with a violent lust that left him wondering what it
would feel like to lick her bare skin.

Unfortunately, he was too foxed to use any of
his usual tactics.