Chapter 3

By the time Harriet had thoroughly befuddled and alienated her fourth dance partner of the evening, she was riding high on a sense of smug satisfaction. Her ridiculous conversation tactics had proven exceptionally effective at driving off each hapless gentleman, leaving them reeling in stunned bewilderment.

As the mortified Lord Plumley beat a hasty retreat, abandoning Harriet on the dance floor without so much as a backward glance, she couldn"t stifle the peal of laughter that bubbled up from her throat. Throwing back her head with unbridled mirth, she relished her small rebellion against the suffocating societal conventions.

"You think this is amusing, do you?"

The harsh words, hissed in clipped tones, instantly smothered Harriet"s frivolous humor. Whirling around, she came face-to-face with her brother William, his expression contorted into a rictus of barely contained rage. His eyes were cold and angry, his jaw ticking with barely restrained fury.

Harriet felt a sliver of trepidation slide down her spine, but she quickly rallied her defiance and lifted her chin boldly. "I"m simply having a bit of sport, William," she replied with feigned nonchalance. "Surely that is not a crime?"

Her brother"s nostrils flared as he struggled to regulate his temper. When he spoke again, his voice was a low, venomous hiss that sent an unwelcome frisson of unease trickling through her.

"You"re making a mockery of our family with your juvenile antics," he seethed, his words clipped and precise. "These gentlemen are from highly respected families -- families I was hoping to curry favor with on your behalf. But now they"ll be too busy gossiping about what an errant fool you are to even consider..."

"Consider forcing me into a loveless match, you mean?" Harriet couldn"t resist interjecting hotly.

William"s jaw clenched until the muscles danced with strain. "This behavior is unacceptable, Harriet. You will cease this idiocy at once and conduct yourself with the poise and decorum befitting a lady of your station. Do you understand?"

Anger and indignation swelled in Harriet"s chest, cresting in a furious wave that crashed through her carefully cultivated propriety. "Or what?" she challenged, her tone saturated with reckless defiance. "What consequences will you dole out to discipline me, dear brother? Shall I be sent to the nursery without supper?"

"You insolent child..." William"s face was nearly purple with apoplectic rage.

"Or perhaps you"ll forbid me from marrying at all?" Harriet barreled ahead, unable to stem the tide of resentment that burst forth in a torrent. "Relegate me to spinsterhood like some hideous crone to be pitied and reviled?"

"Enough!" William hissed, his words a ferocious whiplash that startled Harriet into momentary silence. "I will not be subjected to your childish hysterics any longer. You shame us both with this disgusting display!"

Before Harriet could muster a retort, her brother had already whirled on his heel and stormed off, disappearing into the crowd with sharp, angry movements. She could only gape after him, suddenly bereft in the wake of his scathing reproach.

Emotion swelled and clogged her throat until she felt in danger of choking on it. Tears of humiliation and fury stung her eyes as she wheeled around, desperate to escape her mortification. She needed air. Quickly.

Barely aware of where her feet carried her, Harriet hurried across the ballroom and slipped through the glass doors that opened onto a secluded veranda. The brisk evening air was a balm on her flushed, heated skin as she gulped it greedily, struggling to regain her composure.

So consumed was she in her emotional turmoil that she failed to register the lone figure lounging against the stone balustrade until the telltale flare of a match illuminated it in stark relief. Harriet froze, her breath catching in her throat as she recognized the towering silhouette.

"Your Grace," she acknowledged stiffly, inwardly cursing her rotten luck. Of all the people to stumble across, this was the last man she wished to see. His presence was far too cloying.

The Duke of Frighton straightened languidly, transferring his cheroot to his other hand as he exhaled a plume of pungent smoke.

He regarded her with hooded eyes that glinted green as a cat"s in the dim glow of the veranda"s lanterns. "Evenin", lass," he greeted, his deep brogue rich with sardonic amusement. "Seems ye"ve had a tryin" night."

Harriet stiffened, her chin lifting defensively even as her cheeks flushed with lingering chagrin. "I don"t know what you mean," she retorted, averting her gaze from his knowing stare.

Hugh chuckled, a low rumble that shouldn"t have sounded quite so indecent. "Come now, nay need for pretense between us," he cajoled. "I saw ye fetchin" yer dance partners earlier. Seemed ye were havin" a grand time sendin" the poor lads fleein" for the hills."

Despite herself, Harriet felt her lips twitch upwards at his wry observation. Of course the infuriating Scot had witnessed her mischievous conversational ploys. She could not help but be amused by his referring to the various nobles gathered here as lads.

"So my ruse was transparent, was it?" she asked, aiming for a blasé tone that likely missed its mark.

Hugh"s grin widened, brightening eyes that gleamed with barely suppressed mirth. "As glass," he confirmed cheerfully. "Though I"ll give ye points for creativity, lass. Nae many women would dare spin such outrageous yarns about leeches and hay and the like."

Harriet sniffed disdainfully, though she was rapidly losing her grasp on her righteous indignation. "Well, when one is subjected to the dreary prattle of society gentlemen night after night, one must find ways to enliven the proceedings," she claimed, though the crimson shade of her cheeks made it quite clear that she had other intentions.

"Aye, I can see how that might drive a lass to drastic measures," Hugh allowed with a rumbling chuckle. He took another lazy pull from his cheroot, the end flaring bright orange as he inhaled deeply. "So tell me, did yer little plan unfold as ye wished? Did ye succeed in scandalizin" the entire Parliament of Britain"s bachelors?"

There was no censure in his tone, only genuine curiosity laced with that ever-present, maddening amusement. Somehow, Harriet found she didn"t feel quite as defensive in the face of his easy irreverence.

"I"d say my efforts were quite successful," she replied primly, jutting out her chin. "Those poor saps likely won"t be able to unhinge their jaws for a week."

Hugh threw back his head with a rich guffaw, the uninhibited sound startling a flock of birds from their roost in a nearby tree. "Oh lass, ye are a rare one, that"s for certain," he said admiringly, his eyes crinkling at the corners with mirth. "The laddies of the ton will not know what hit them by the time yer finished with "em."

Harriet made a show of examining her nails in feigned indifference, though she couldn"t quite smother her pleased smile at his praise. "Well, it serves them right for their stuffiness and pomposity," she said loftily. "Someone has to keep them humble, after all."

"Is that so?" Hugh countered, his tone taking on a silky, challenging edge that she didn"t trust one whit. One dark brow inched upwards in an expression of practiced nonchalance. "And I wonder, d"ye plan on deployin" those same...unorthodox tactics when ye set yer sights on snarin" a husband for yerself?"

The words hit Harriet like a harsh dousing of cold water, effectively smothering the playful repartee between them. Her smile withered, shoulders going rigid as she sucked in a sharp, offended breath.

"I beg your pardon?" she bit out acidly. "What makes you think I have any intention of "snaring? some poor sod, as you so indelicately put it?"

Hugh shrugged one broad shoulder, utterly unbothered by her pique. "Just assumin", based on yer brother"s overly enthusiastic efforts to flog ye off to the highest bidder in there." He jerked his chin towards the ballroom even as artful streams of pale smoke wreathed his head. "It was just an idle observance."

"An incredibly foolish one," Harriet countered hotly, all traces of levity evaporating from her demeanor. She drew herself up to her full height, mustering as much hauteur as she could manage while still craning her neck to hold Hugh"s insolent gaze. "You know nothing about me or my intentions, Your Grace. I"ll thank you not to make ignorant assumptions about my circumstances or my desires."

To her surprise, he did not respond. He merely looked at her with an all-knowing smirk and Harriet bristled at the sight of him - utterly unruffled by her indignant rebuke. In fact, the insufferable man had the audacity to look even more amused, if the deepening crinkles around his eyes were any indication.

"Aye, I"ll admit I daenae know the finer details of yer... circumstances," he allowed with maddening nonchalance. Taking a deep pull from his cheroot, he exhaled a thick plume of aromatic smoke that wafted towards Harriet in a teasing tendril. "But one thing"s clear - ye've nay qualms about livin" a wee bit...dangerously, shall we say?"

She sputtered, outraged by both his flippant tone and the hazy veil of smoke that threatened to choke her. "Living dangerously?" she echoed incredulously. "By simply refusing to adhere to society"s ridiculous expectations, you mean?"

A deep chuckle rumbled from the Scotsman"s broad chest. "Well, I"d certainly classify talkin" about hay for nostril stuffin" as risky behavior. Likely to have the lads committin" ye to Bedlam."

This struck a nerve and Harriet"s hackles rose. "Really now, is sarcasm the only trick you know?" she snapped, frustration fraying her patience. "Because if so, I"ve found it distinctly lacking in entertainment value, I"m afraid."

Rather than looking affronted, as she"d hoped, Hugh"s lips curved into an insolent smirk that made her want to stamp her foot like a petulant child. "Oh aye? Me mistake for borin" ye, me Lady. Though I must admit, the alternative entertainment ye put on tonight has been anythin" but dull."

He punctuated the infuriating statement with another unconcerned puff of his cheroot. Harriet"s eyes narrowed to slits as the acrid smoke wafted into her face once more.

"You are absolutely infuriating!" she seethed, waving a hand to dispel the offending haze. "Between your irksome presence and that foul smoke clouding my senses, I can scarcely breathe."

Hugh arched one dark brow in a picture of condescending amusement. "Well now, I daenae mean to suffocate ye, lass. Perhaps ye"d do better to run along and find a wee bit of fresh air elsewhere?" His tone was an odd blend of solicitousness and thinly veiled goading.

Harriet"s eyes flashed with mutinous rebellion. Like she would ever allow this arrogant Scot to dismiss her so casually! Squaring her shoulders, she took a pointed step forward until she could feel the heat of his body like a brand against her skin.

To her immense vexation, rather than looking discomfited by her brash incursion of his personal space, Hugh merely quirked one infuriatingly sardonic brow higher in silent challenge.

"If the smoke bothers ye so, I"d be happy to put it out," he offered, his tone a low, intimate rumble that shot an unwelcome shiver down her spine.

Harriet opened her mouth to deliver a scathing rejoinder, but the words never emerged. Instead, a violent fit of coughing racked her slender frame as she finally inhaled a noseful of smoke from Hugh"s cheroot. Doubled over, she hacked and sputtered, her eyes streaming as she struggled for breath.

Suddenly, she was aware of a large, warm hand splaying across her back in a steady, soothing rhythm. The acrid smoke cleared as Hugh cast his cheroot aside, the other hand grasping her elbow in a firm but curiously gentle grip.

"Steady now, lass," that deep, rolling brogue murmured in her ear as the coughing slowly subsided. "Cannae have ye chokin" to death on me account. That wouldnae reflect well on me at all, now would it?"

Harriet inhaled a ragged breath, her senses overwhelmed by the rugged, pine-and-smoke scent of him and the solid warmth of his body pressed against her. It was altogether too much stimuli and not nearly enough all at once.

Then, her addled mind picked up on a sharp intake of scandalized breath from the direction of the ballroom. Through her watering eyes, she registered a trio of matrons hovering in the veranda doorway, their faces twisted into identical masks of pious horror.