confused.
"When I called you a bitch." He smiled and executed a particularly dizzy turn.
Amy gasped and tried to pull out of his arms, but he was too strong for her. "Going to hit me again?" he asked through a tight smile. "Not here, you're not."
"I wouldn't put myself to the trouble," snapped Amy, giving up the struggle and refusing to look at him. "Your manners are beyond correction."
"Was that what you were trying to do? You might try to teach by example the next time."
"There will be no next time."
"Ah, no," he said. "Both Forbes and Rowanford have excellent manners, I'm sure. I think I'll set up a book on which one you'll pick. Are you willing to give up a few hundred thousand in ready cash for a coronet, or is it really just the money that counts?"
Amy refused to speak to him, though she remembered to keep a small, tight smile on her face.
"Of course Rowanford also has the advantage of being childless," he carried on. "Sir Cedric's hopeful offspring will doubtless cut up rough at seeing the family fortune trickling through your fingers. Have you got into it already? Such fine feathers, and a very pretty necklace."
The music ended, thank God. Amy would have walked away, but he took a grip on her arm, which she couldn't break, and said, "I will, of course, escort you to your aunt."
As they approached Aunt Lizzie, Amy said, "You understand, of course, that I will never agree to dance with you again, Mr. Crisp."
His smile was chilly as he bowed. "My dear Amethyst, you will never be asked."
With willpower she had never before been aware of, Amy smiled as he walked away, and as she took a seat by her aunt.
"I was never so surprised!" declared Lizzie. "Fancy you standing up with him and acting as if you were nothing but casual acquaintances."
"That is all we are," said Amy, her jaw aching with the smile.
"With a proposal and a red face between you," said Lizzie skeptically. "Oh well, I never did think to understand you, Amethyst. Even in the cradle you were contrary. Now, what about that duke?"
"What about Sir Cedric?" countered Amy, looking around. She was in an excellent mood to bring the man to the point.
"He was dancing with Nell. Really, Amethyst. You can't turn your nose up at a duke. He's warm enough - I've made inquiries. Think what it would be for your sisters and Jasper to be related to a duke."
Oh heavens, thought Amy. She'd never thought of the power of connections. Was it her duty to weigh title against cash just as Harry Crisp had implied? She had no time to consider it, for her next partner came to claim her, and after that was the supper dance.
She knew the fact that the duke was standing up with her for the second time was being noticed. She supposed he was the catch of the Season and she really should make some effort to reel him in. She even liked him, for he seemed thoroughly pleasant for such an exalted personage.
She spent most of the dance pondering her reluctance to try to snare Rowanford. She decided it was that it wouldn't be fair to cheat such a man out of the warmth he deserved, and she felt no particular warmth for him. Sir Cedric was a simpler case and would be content with what she had to offer.
Having made up her mind, Amy was anxious to be back in her prospective husband's company.
When she and Rowanford entered the supper room, however, Clyta noisily summoned them over to her table, and Amy felt obliged to go. This was, after all, why she was here. She spotted Sir Cedric at another table with Clyta's parents, Nell, Lizzie, and another gentleman. She gave a little wave and told herself she wished she were at that table. Honesty compelled her to admit, however, that such a middle-aged group looked extremely dull. It was a little daunting to think that such groupings would be her natural setting as Lady Forbes.
Clyta's supper partner was Harry, and he was sitting at the head of the small oval table. Chart Ashby was there with a dark-haired beauty who was introduced as Lucy Frogmorton. Amy and Rowanford took the two vacant seats, and Amy found herself between the duke and Chart but directly opposite Harry.
She immediately turned her attention away to her right side. "Do you come to London every year, Mr. Ashby?"