“I was waiting until you agreed to be presented to the Queen,” the duke said with a waggle of his eyebrows.

Yasmin didn’t say anything. She had no intention of putting herself through such an uncomfortable experience. “I’ve had enough of royal courts, Grandfather.”

“Your grandmother would wish you to have her diamonds. There’s a necklace, earrings, bracelets, and an aigrette for your hair. It will encourage the fortune hunters, of course, but they already have you in their sights.” The late duchess had left her personal fortune to Yasmin, bypassing her scandalous daughter, Mabel. In retaliation for the insult, Mabel had bequeathed her daughter a generous dowry that originated in Napoleon’s coffers.

“Neither the Duke of Huntington nor the Earl of Lilford are in need of a fortune,” her grandfather said. “Their attentions can be assumed to be genuine.”

It was horridly unfortunate that Yasmin felt nothing other than friendship for Silvester, and even more unfortunate that she couldn’t get Giles’s muscular silhouette out of her mind. Of course, now that she was resolved to stop waltzing with him, she would quickly lose the absurd infatuation she had for the grumpy earl.

“I did indeed dance with both gentlemen.” Yasmin put a forkful of haddock into her mouth and forced herself to swallow.

Her grandfather raised his lorgnette and stared through it, his right eye hideously enlarged. “My good friend Mr. Happle seems to believe that you permitted the Earl of Lilford to escort you into the gardens. For an unremarkable perambulation, it need hardly be said.”

“That is also true.” Yasmin gave up on the fish and nodded to James, the footman assigned to stand behind her chair. He waited until the duke turned his attention to his breakfast, then whisked the plate away.

She smiled, and James winked at her.

“I found that surprising,” His Grace announced. “I myself have witnessed you and Lilford glowering at each other. In short, I thought you didn’t like the man.”

“I rashly informed him that his young sister, Lady Lydia, had left the ballroom in the company of Lord Pepper. He wasn’t pleased.”

Her grandfather’s eyes sharpened. “I agree with him. Not a good prospect, not good at all. I hear that Pepper is under the hatches, having wasted his money in rash bets.”

“The earl did not disapprove of Lord Pepper. He simply did not believe me. He was convinced that I would share untrue gossip about his sister, so he insisted that I accompany him into the gardens to prove that she had not done anything imprudent.”

At seventy-one years old, the Duke of Portbellow was still a formidable man. His brows drew together over a hooked nose that Yasmin was grateful not to have inherited. “Did he indeed?” His voice dropped an octave. “He thought you would destroy his sister’s reputation? Why? For the pleasure of it? That would not be the action of a lady, and while you may dress with a certain joie de vivre, you are nothing if not ladylike.”