She turned her thoughts back to Amanda. "Remove your gloves so Lord Stafford can feel the warmth of your skin," she advised. "Drape yourself elegantly on the sofa. Before you lie down, douse two of the lamps. Low lighting is more romantic."
"Douse the lamps," Amanda repeated as though trying to memorize Juliana's instructions. "And take off my gloves." She tugged up the edge of her low bodice.
"And stop playing with your dress." Juliana headed back to the ball, Amanda following at her heels. "It makes you look nervous."
"I am nervous." Entering the ballroom, Amanda paused. "Lord Stafford still isn't here. What if he doesn't come?"
"It's not even ten o'clock yet," Juliana said soothingly, scanning the glittering crush. James's mother wasn't here yet, either. Lord Cavanaugh was pacing like a caged animal waiting for food, looking as anxious to see Lady Stafford as Amanda was to see the lady's son. For different reasons, of course. "Stop worrying. Lord Stafford assured me he was attending."
"Then why isn't he here?" Amanda asked for the tenth time.
Or maybe the twentieth. Honestly, Juliana could hardly wait until midnight when James would compromise her friend, because even though tricking him still didn't sit quite right with her, it would be such a relief to have this whole business over and done with.
"Here comes the duke," Amanda said.
Juliana turned and smiled. She'd worn her most seductive dress, a pale rose confection with a neckline so wide it left her shoulders bare and enticing.
But he didn't look enticed.
He did return her smile, though. "Good evening, my dear." His gaze shifted to her friend. "Good evening, Lady Amanda," he added formally.
"Good evening, your grace," Amanda replied, sounding every bit as formal.
And that was when Juliana had a sudden bright idea.
She would encourage the duke to dance with Amanda. Seeing how tiresome it was to dance with someone so reserved might help him loosen up a bit. And in the meantime, while he was dancing with Amanda in a tiresome manner, she would dance with other men in her usual vivacious way.
After all, she had no shortage of dance invitations. Perhaps a few less than normal, since she'd been dancing so often with the duke lately, but that hadn't stopped men from asking when the duke wasn't nearby to intimidate them. Dancing with other men would not only make the duke notice how much more pleasant it was to dance with a modicum of enthusiasm; it would also make him jealous and possessive. Possessive men tended to touch the ladies they were possessive of, didn't they?
"Lady Amanda would love to dance," she told him with a sweet smile. "Why don't you ask her for the next waltz?"
She didn't know who looked more startled, the duke or Amanda. But as the musicians struck up the waltz, he bowed to Amanda very properly—no surprise there—and escorted her to the dance floor.
Juliana turned, expecting to be inundated with invitations as soon as the other men noticed the duke wasn't nearby and, indeed, was dancing with another woman.
Unfortunately, Corinna noticed first. "Is your duke courting Amanda now?"
"Of course he isn't. Amanda would never consent to marry him—he's a by-blow, remember? But I thought it would be a good idea for them to get to know each other better, so I suggested they dance."
"If you wish to marry the man, you shouldn't shove him at other women. What if he kisses her? He might decide he wants her, and Amanda could change her mind—"
"He's not going to kiss her," Juliana interrupted.
Corinna measured her a moment. "How can you be so sure?"
"He isn't interested in her. He doesn't call her my dear. And the man is more reserved than Amanda. He hasn't even kissed me."
"Then how on earth do you know you love him?" Corinna asked, and while Juliana was wondering yet again how an inexperienced woman was supposed to know when she was in love, her sister added, "How do you know you want to marry him?"
"What do you mean, how do I know?" He was kind. He sent her flowers. He enjoyed amusements, fine horses, balls, and entertainments. He had wealth to support himself in style. He was classically handsome, as only an aristocratic Englishman could be. And he was a duke. "Who—besides Amanda—wouldn't want to marry him?"
"You really must kiss a man before you marry him. Believe me, it makes all the difference. Since kissing several men myself, I've discovered—"
"What?" Corinna was a year younger than Juliana, not to mention more interested in paint than men. How was it that she'd been kissed, when Juliana had barely even been touched? "You've kissed men?"
"Yes." Corinna blinked. "Have you not?"
"No!"
"Well, what have you been doing all season, then? Alexandra kissed Tristan before marrying him," Corinna reminded her. "And Rachael has kissed several men, too. Gentlemen don't all kiss the same," she informed her with the surety of an experienced woman. "How is a lady to know she's found her prince if she hasn't kissed a few frogs first?"
It wasn't that Juliana hadn't been trying. But at least it was with a man who'd been courting her for longer than a dance. "Really, Corinna." Corinna always had been a bit of a rebel, but this was quite beyond the pale. "I'd be willing to wager Aunt Frances—your chaperone, in case you forgot?—wouldn't approve of you kissing men you've barely met."
"I don't let them kiss me when I've barely met them." Corinna's chin went into the air. "I make them wait at least
