She’d never been adept at repartee. She didn’t make brilliant, sophisticated responses when gentlemen attempted to banter with her. Sometimes, she thought of the perfect response days, even weeks, later. She’d be transcribing some melody her father was humming and the clever rejoinder she should have spoken would appear in her mind, in a bubble, as though she were an illustration by a caricaturist.

The duke threw her off-balance. He turned her mind to mush.

As she stood before him, fuming, growing redder about the face, no doubt, unable to think of disarming witticisms or cutting insults alike, she reminded herself to tread carefully.

She must keep her temper even and her words diplomatic. “I’ve no wish to insult you, Your Grace, though, if I had, I’d think of something late at night, something very inventive and original and I’d say it then.”

“A shame I wouldn’t be in your bedchamber to hear you deliver the set-down, Miss Beaton.”

Was he flirting with her?

He flirted with everyone, she reminded herself. He flirted with life; he conquered it with a wink and a sultry glance. Nothing was able to withstand the onslaught of him.

“Let me simply say this, Your Grace,” she said in a rush, before he made good on his threat to throw her over his shoulder. “The social Season isn’t only about finding a mate. It’s the only time a young lady is able to experience life before she becomes a wife and a mother.”

“I disagree. The Season is nothing more nor less than a mating ritual. Let them marry and then experience life afterward. The suitors I’ve gathered are all good men, and I’m sure their lives will be tranquil.”

“But they will lack passion.”

“Is it freedom, love, or passion you are advocating for?”

“They are of equal importance.”

“And you’re the expert on passion?” Said with a smoldering stare that actually made her take a shaky step backward.

“Of course not. I’m a wallflower on the brink of spinsterhood. I spent my childhood touring with my father in Europe and he never had the means for a proper debut for me. So, no, I’m not the expert on love or passion. But I do have many female friends who have made love matches and they would speak as I do. A marriage without love is a sad, empty fate.”

“I think I’ve heard your opinion on the subject. Dry toast with no butter, and such. I disagree. Love is no prerequisite for a harmonious union. Love is too often blind, and too often one-sided. Love fades. It provokes people to desperate acts. It is withheld. It sets you up for failure. It’s an unattainable ideal.”