By all indications, liquor made him even more amorous than macaroons. Which was uncomfortable in a sense, but also a good thing, because it meant Amanda would find it easier to seduce him and get herself compromised.
And poor, demure Amanda needed all the help she could get.
On the other side of the dance floor, Amanda was paired again with the duke, the both of them rigid as ever. In the two hours since Juliana suggested they dance together, she herself had danced with twelve other men. Vivaciously and enthusiastically. But the duke hadn't seemed to take note of any of those dozen dances.
It hadn't helped that he'd spent at least half of those two hours in the card room.
Between Juliana's dozen dances, the duke had emerged and danced with her twice, but despite all her efforts to draw him out, he still hadn't touched her, let alone kissed her. She tried to picture his skin in the open V of a shirt, but she imagined it would look rather pasty instead of golden. And he probably never loosened his collar, anyway. He probably went to bed fully dressed, with his shirt fastened up to his chin, a cravat knotted in layers to cover it, and a waistcoat and tailcoat besides. Both buttoned.
It was heartbreaking, really. He truly needed her in his life. She resolved to remain patient, to keep working toward his happiness, no matter how long the process took. After all, it had taken an entire childhood of cold treatment to turn him into the man he was today. She shouldn't be surprised if it took more than a few weeks of warmth to counteract that.
Thankfully, the rest of her projects were going well tonight. Aunt Frances and Lord Malmsey had kissed. Lord Cavanaugh had danced three times with Lady Stafford, and they'd probably kissed as well. And Amanda and James would be kissing soon.
Every woman in London would be kissed tonight except for Juliana.
Unless…
Maneuvering the last few steps of the dance to end up by Amanda and the duke, she curtsied to James and then turned to them. "Shall we exchange partners?"
The duke looked so startled at her forwardness, she nearly lost her nerve. But she'd never been one to just stand by and let things happen—or in this case, not happen—so when the musicians resumed playing and the duke took her gloved hands, she steeled herself, smiled at him, and began surreptitiously inching him toward a potted palm.
At least she tried to be surreptitious. Unfortunately, the tune wasn't a waltz but a minuet—which meant the dancers moved back and forth rather than progressing in a particular direction.
"I'm supposed to lead, my dear," the duke gently chided. "Why are you taking larger steps towards the right than the left?"
She mentally shrugged, deciding not to play coy. The duke never seemed to take a hint, so she'd best come out and say it. "I'm hoping to get you alone behind that potted palm."
"Pardon?"
"I'm hoping for a kiss."
He blinked. "Before marriage?"
Now she mentally rolled her eyes. "Yes, before marriage." And though she'd never expected to quote Aunt Frances regarding intimate matters, she found herself adding, "It's no great sin, you know."
"Perhaps not, my dear, but it also wouldn't be proper."
Her heart sank. "Don't you want to kiss me?" she asked. "You're courting me. You've sent me flowers three times. I thought you were falling in love with me."
She shocked even herself with that admission, but when he said, "Oh, but I am," her heart soared. The depression she'd felt earlier dissipated like a moist fog in the sun's rays. The duke was falling in love with her! It was only a matter of time until she knew for sure she was in love with him, too, and then everything would be wonderful—even if she did have to wait until her wedding night to experience a kiss.
As the dance ended, the clock struck midnight. Finally. After thanking the duke rather profusely, she hurried to meet Amanda.
"It's midnight."
"I know." Amanda looked paler than normal. Paler than the duke. Paler than Juliana felt.
Juliana didn't know how a person could feel pale, but suddenly, despite her recent elation, she did. "Are you sure you want to go through with this?"
"I cannot marry Lord Malmsey."
Of course she couldn't. That would be horrible for everyone involved. Especially dear Aunt Frances.
"You're going to have to kiss Lord Stafford," Juliana warned. The thought made her stomach turn. But only because she was about to be the only unkissed woman in London. "And you're going to have to make sure he undresses you, at least a little. A mere kiss won't be enough to guarantee a compromise."
"I know." Amanda looked quite determined. "I can do it."
"All right, then. I'll bring Lord Stafford to the library. Remember to take off your gloves. And make your voice a little breathy."
Amanda resolutely squared her shoulders as she walked off. Here she was, about to get herself engaged to a young, virile earl, and honestly, she looked about as excited as a woman going to her own funeral.
Clearly she wasn't ready for this.
If there weren't so many other people involved, Juliana would be tempted to postpone their plans. But postponement would put the compromise at risk of not happening altogether, and it wouldn't be fair to deprive James, Lord Malmsey, and Aunt Frances of their happiness just to save Amanda from a little discomfort.
Besides, Amanda would feel much better soon. There'd be a huge scandal following her compromise, of course—enough to make her father come running to London. But that was the whole idea. And once her father arrived and set everything to rights, Amanda would be happy. Happily married to James. She'd feel all tingly when he touched her and kissed her, and—
Juliana was growing all tingly just thinking about it.
She found James standing with some other men, sipping
