The duke and I julia Quinn

his
brows, silently daring 
her
to 
comment. 
She didn't, of course, but her mother gave him a sharp look, and Simon had the distinct 
impression that she was trying to decide whether his 
newly
acquired dukedom made up for his 
bad reputation. 
"I don't believe I had the chance to make your acquaintance before I left the country, Lady 
Bridgerton," Simon said smoothly, "but I am very pleased to do so now." 
"As am I." She motioned to Daphne. "My daughter Daphne." 
Simon took Daphne's gloved hand and laid a scrupulously polite kiss on her knuckles. "I am 
honored to officially make your acquaintance, Miss Bridgerton." 
"Officially?" Lady Bridgerton queried. Daphne opened her mouth, but Simon cut in before she 
could say anything. "I already told your brother about our 
brief meeting
earlier this evening." 
Lady Bridgerton's head turned rather sharply in Daphne's direction. "You were introduced to the 
duke earlier this evening? Why did you not say anything?" 
Daphne smiled tightly. "We were rather occupied with the earl. And before that, with Lord 
Westborough. And before that, with—" 
"I see your point, Daphne," Lady Bridgerton ground out. 
Simon wondered how unforgivably rude it would be if he laughed. 
Then Lady Bridgerton turned the full force of her smile on him—and Simon quickly learned 
where Daphne got that wide, wide smile from—and Simon realized that Lady Bridgerton had 
decided that his bad reputation could be overlooked. 
A strange light appeared in her eye, and her head bobbed back and forth between Daphne and 
Simon. 
Then she smiled again. 
Simon fought the urge to flee. 
Anthony leaned over slightly, and whispered in his ear, "I am 
so
sorry." 
Simon said between clenched teeth, "I may have to kill you." 
Daphne's icicle glare said that she'd heard both of them and was not amused. 

---

But Lady Bridgerton was blissfully oblivious, her head presumably already filling with images 
of a grand wedding. 
Then her eyes narrowed as she focused on something behind the men. She looked so 
overwhelmingly annoyed that Simon, Anthony, and Daphne all twisted their necks to see what 
was afoot. 
Mrs. Featherington was marching purposefully in their direction, Prudence and Philipa right 
behind. Simon noticed that Penelope was nowhere to be seen. 
Desperate times, Simon quickly realized, called for desperate measures. "Miss Bridgerton," he 
said, whipping his head around to face Daphne, "would you care to dance?" 

---

Chapter 5 
Were you at Lady Danbury's ball last night? If not, shame on you. You missed witnessing quite the 
most remarkable coup of the season. It was clear to all partygoers, and especially to This Author, 
that Miss Daphne Bridgerton has captured the interest of the newly returned to England Duke of 
Hastings. 
One can only imagine the relief of Lady Bridgerton. How mortifying it will be if Daphne remains 
on the shelf for yet another season! And Lady B— with three more daughters to marry off. Oh, the 
horror . 
Lady Whistledown's Society Papers, 30 April 1813 
There was no way Daphne could refuse. First of all, her mother was impaling her with her 
deadly I-Am-Your-Mother-Don't-You-Dare-Defy-Me gaze. 
Secondly, the duke had clearly not given Anthony the entire story of their meeting in the dimly 
lit hallway; to make a show of refusing to dance with him would certainly raise undue 
speculation. 
Not to mention that Daphne really didn't particularly relish getting drawn into a conversation 
with the Featheringtons, which was sure to happen if she didn't make immediate haste for the 
dance floor. 
And finally, she kind of sort of just a little teeny bit actually 
wanted
to dance with the duke. 
Of course the arrogant boor didn't even give her the chance to accept. Before Daphne could 
manage an "I'd be delighted," or even a mere, "Yes," he had her halfway across the room. 
The orchestra was still producing those awful noises it makes while the musicians were getting 
ready to begin, so they were forced to wait a moment before they actually danced. 
'Thank God you didn't refuse," the duke said with great feeling. 
"When would I have had the opportunity?" 
He grinned at her. Daphne answered that with a scowl. "I wasn't given the opportunity to accept, 
either, if you recall." 
He raised a brow. "Does that mean I must ask you again?" 
"No, of course not," Daphne replied, rolling her eyes. "That would be rather childish of me, 
don't you think? And besides, it would cause a terrible scene, which I don't think either of us 

---

desires." 
He cocked his head and gave her a rather assessing glance, as if he had analyzed her personality 
in an instant and decided she might just be acceptable. Daphne found the experience somewhat 
unnerving. 
Just then the orchestra ceased its discordant warm-up and struck the first notes of a waltz. 
Simon groaned, "Do young ladies still need permission to waltz?" 
Daphne found herself smiling at his discomfort. "How long have you been away?" 
"Five years. Do they?" 
"Yes." 
"Do you have it?" He looked almost pained at the prospect of his escape plan falling apart. 
"Of course." 
He swept her into his arms and whirled her into the throng of elegantly clad couples. "Good." 
They had made a full circle of the ballroom before Daphne asked, "How much of our meeting 
did you reveal to my brothers? I saw you with them, you know." 
Simon only smiled. 
"What are you grinning about?" she asked suspiciously. 
"I was merely marveling at your restraint." 
"I beg your pardon?" 
He shrugged slightly, his shoulders rising as his head tilted to the right. "I hadn't thought you the 
most patient of ladies," he said, "and here it took you a full three and a half minutes before 
asking me about my conversation with your brothers." 
Daphne fought a blush. The truth was, the duke was a most accomplished dancer, and she'd been 
enjoying the waltz too much even to think of conversation. 
"But since you asked," he said, mercifully sparing her from having to make a comment, "all I 
told them was that I ran into you in the hall and that, given your coloring, I