Juliet, as usual, had been oblivious to the trail of destruction that followed in her wake. It was, however, impossible to dislike her because she was completely free from vanity or conceit. No one was immune to her sunny charm, from the eighty-year-old vicar to the two-year-old in leading strings; one sweet smile from Juliet’s rosebud lips and the hardest of hearts melted.

Georgie completely understood Juliet’s appeal. Her own sense of humor was sometimes dry and at the expense of male pride, and she was often uncomfortably direct. Who wanted that when they could have Juliet’s delicious folly?

Juliet’s incredible clumsiness, however, had always been a source of slightly guilty pleasure. This, surely, was evidence of Mother Nature giving the less pretty girls a sporting chance. No one should be allowed that much beauty and coordination. It just wouldn’t be fair. Even as she watched, Juliet turned the wrong way in the dance and stepped on her partner’s foot. The duke didn’t seem to notice. His rapt gaze never left her face, and he seemed genuinely crestfallen at the need to restore her to her family when the cotillion ended. Juliet gave him a sweet smile, nodded at his pleasantries—and expertly sent him on his way.

She turned to Georgie with a little huff as their mother excused herself to go to the powder room.

“Something wrong, Ju?” Georgie ventured.

Juliet gave an elegant shrug of her milky-white shoulders. “Do you know how tiresome it is to be constantly likened to classical deities? I swear, if one more person compares me to Diana or Aphrodite, I’ll … well, I don’t know what I’ll do. But it will be bad.”

She pursed her lips, and Georgie bit back a smile. If the men thought of Juliet as a Greek goddess, they probably considered her a Harpy or a Gorgon.

“Why must men be so silly?” Juliet sighed. “Lord Dunravin said he’d slay dragons for me. There aren’t any dragons anymore, are there? At least, not in England.”

“There are no dragons left in England,” Georgie agreed, with a straight face. “Unless you count Lady Cockburn over there. How dare he offer to rid the world of imaginary beasts?”

“Well, what would you want a man to do for you?” Juliet asked, suddenly serious. “If not slay dragons?”

Georgie considered the question. She’d given up hope of a man wanting to do things for her about five insincere proposals ago. “I’d want him to make me smile,” she said after a moment. “And make my stomach all giddy.”

The way her prisoner had done.

“And be aware that there are no dragons in England,” she added for good measure. “Intelligence in a man is always a welcome surprise.” She nodded toward the duke. “You’re not seriously considering Upton, are you?”