Dusk With a Dangerous Duke (8 page)

It was difficult not to like Lord Chillingsworth. Especially when he was trying so hard to win her favor.

“Would you consider it daring of me to disagree, my lord?” she asked flirtatiously.

“Indeed,” he said, moving closer. “My favorite kind of lady.”

“Frost,” Regan said, a crisp reprimand infused in the single word.

The earl’s scrutiny of her face did not falter. “Do not ask me to behave, dear sister. It’s simply not in my nature.”

“Lord Chillingsworth, what are you doing?” Lady Netherley demanded as she quickened her stride to break up any mischief.

“Why, nothing at all, dear lady—yet,” he drawled.

The elderly marchioness’s response was one of predictable indignation on the behalf of the young lady for whom she felt a certain responsibility.

“Well, you wicked man, you will cease this instant!” Lady Netherley raised her walking stick to bar the earl from stepping closer. “Lady Grace is under my protection. I suggestion you tarry with the ladies who are not!”

Lord Chillingsworth brought his fist to his heart. “My dear Lady Netherley, you wound me with your assumptions.”

It was apparent there was affection between the earl and the marchioness.

“I know what you are about,” the older woman said fiercely. “And I will not tolerate it.”

The earl astounded everyone by extending his hand to Grace. “My lady, will you honor me with a dance?”

Sophia frowned and Regan sighed. Apparently, no one expected Lord Chillingsworth to extend the invitation.

Lady Netherley did not mince her words. “Do you think the gossips will hold their tongues?”

The poor woman was worried about the Duke of Huntsley’s reaction to the news. It was on the tip of Grace’s tongue to tell the marchioness that her concerns were for naught. The duke did not care what she did as long as she remained in her gilt cage.

If she had been aware that it was rare for the earl to invite any lady to dance, Grace might have questioned the wisdom in accepting his offer. Blissfully unaware, she slipped her hand into Lord Chillingsworth’s. “I would be honored, my lord.”

The course already set, none of women said another word of protest as Grace strolled away with the gentleman most of the
ton
thought was the wickedest of all the Lords of Vice.

Chapter Seven

Hunter entered the Lord and Lady Lovelace’s ballroom intent on finding his quarry.

Lady Netherley.

He was prepared to behave as long as the marchioness revealed Lady Grace’s whereabouts. If she refused, then the evening might take an unpleasant turn.

Recognizing that particular expression on his friend’s face, Sin attempted to thwart what was likely to develop into a confrontation. “It might be prudent to find our ladies, first. I’ll wager Juliana, as well as the others, have sought an introduction to Lady Grace if she is present this evening. Perhaps they will be able to direct you to her so you do not have to intimidate Vane’s mother or fondle every unfamiliar lady in the ballroom.”

“With most of the Lords of Vice in attendance, I can predict how this evening will end—with us getting tossed out of the Lovelaces’ ball. It will be the highlight of our evening,” quipped Dare. “Regan will blister our ears for ruining what she considers her efforts to improve on our reputation.”

Hunter laughed, viewing the lady’s efforts as a hopeless task. The people surrounding them respected wealth and power. He would leave the etiquette and charity to the ladies.

“It isn’t a jest,” Reign said, shouldering his way among them. “Our wives have to hold their heads up in this town. Being married to the Lords of Vice cannot make it an easy task.”

Hunter disagreed, and was prepared to debate the issue with Reign. However, the man kept walking, uninterested in anyone else’s opinion on the subject. Sin shrugged and followed.

“Only a weak-minded fool would allow a woman to dictate his life,” he complained to Dare.

Dare grinned at him. “Spoken like a gent with nothing to lose or a sleepy, well-pleasured lady in his bed each night.”

Now his friend was being cruel. “Who says I want a female in my bed each night?”

The marquess gave him a look of disbelief. “If you don’t give a farthing one way or the other, why precisely are you in a lather about Lady Grace?”

Hunter’s jaw tightened, but he kept his mouth shut.

Dare gave him a knowing grin. “That’s what I thought you’d say, my friend. Come on, let’s find Lady Netherley before you offend the wrong person.”

*   *   *

“You enjoyed the dance.”

Grace heard the indulgent satisfaction in Lord Chillingsworth’s voice, but she could not deduce a reason for it.

“How could I not with you as my partner?” she said as they walked together. She had thought the earl would return her promptly to Lady Netherley to prove that he could be trusted.

However, her companion was not ruled by anyone.

She rather liked that about him.

“Do you want to step outside?” he asked, already nudging her toward the open doors.

“I would not mind some fresh air. It’s a little stuffy in here,” she said, smiling up at him. “Can I ask you something, Lord Chillingsworth?”

“Anything … if you call me Frost.”

The scoundrel. He thought nothing of flirting with a lady who was betrothed to one of his closest friends. The man was shameless.

“Well, Frost, would you consider yourself an honest gentleman?”

Amusement flickered in his gaze. “Sometimes. When it serves me to be so. Why do you ask?”

“For the usual reasons,” she said brightly. “I have a question and wondered if you would give me an honest answer.”

The earl halted abruptly, and belatedly Grace realized that they were alone. “A challenge. Go ahead, Lady Grace. Ask your question.”

Perhaps she should have asked Regan or Sophia. Still, she was no coward. “I have met several of your friends and their wives this evening. All of you have one person in common, and yet all of you have studiously avoided speaking his name. Why is that?”

His white teeth flashed as he smiled at her. “You are wondering why no one has mentioned the Duke of Huntsley, eh? I cannot speak for the others, though I am not surprised by their reluctance.”

“How so?”

Frost held her in place when she tried to continue their stroll. “You are incredibly beautiful. If Hunter had known, he might have reconsidered abandoning you to the country.”

“Is that what he told you?”

“My darling lady, Hunter never mentions you at all.” He noted her pained expression and sighed. “And that is why my good friends have avoided uttering the gent’s name. Everyone is uncertain of your plans, and no one wishes to injure your feelings.”

“You know, don’t you?”

“That you seek to dissolve this arranged marriage? Yes?”

“Lady Netherley promised not to speak of it,” she said, furious at herself for confiding in the marchioness. It had been a calculated risk, but she had thought the elderly woman’s friendship with Grace’s grandfather would encourage her to honor her word.

“Don’t you be angry at the marchioness,” he said in the ensuing silence. “She has known Hunter since he was a lad, and feels you would be better off under his care.”

She did not bother concealing her skepticism. “And do you agree?”

“Let’s just say that I have an aversion to the notion of marriage. Hunter has protected you for nineteen years; if he chooses he could continue to do so without the messy complication of a loveless union,” the earl said pragmatically.

Grace was conflicted. Lord Chillingsworth was the first person in London who genuinely supported her position, and yet she felt strangely insulted that he did not approve of the match with his friend.

“Do you think His Grace has formed a similar opinion?” she asked.

“You will have to ask him yourself,” he said dismissively as if he did not care either way. He stepped closer, his body blocking the filtered light from the ballroom. “However, I will share my thoughts if you are interested?”

“Of course.”

“Do not marry Hunter,” he said bluntly. “My friend is capable of appreciating your beauty and body, but you will never claim his love. You are so young … innocent. It is the folly of youth to reach for the unattainable, and you will spend the rest of your life regretting it.”

She could barely swallow as she contemplated the lonely years of being bound to a man who could never love her. “I—thank you for your honesty, Frost. Unfortunately, I happen to agree with you.”

“I have another confession to make,” Lord Chillingsworth said, his fingers lightly stroking the flesh just above her elbows. “Truth is as deadly as a double-edged sword, and you inspire me to play fairly with you.”

Grace stilled, sensing his words were important. “You do not always play fairly, my lord?”

“I avoid it at all costs,” he admitted. “Do you want to know why I approached you this evening, when I had been warned off by several of my friends?”

“Why?”

His chin tipped upward as he found his thoughts amusing. “I generally abhor innocent misses like you. No offense, my dear, but you and your dewy-eyed peers are nothing but trouble. And there lies my quandary. My nature is to indulge all of my senses in the forbidden, and you, Lady Grace, most definitely are as tempting as the red, shiny apple was to Adam in the Garden of Eden. I shouldn’t—” He gave her an apologetic look.

Puzzled, she asked, “Should not do what?”

“This.”

The teasing caress of his fingers unexpectedly transformed into iron manacles on her upper arms. He pulled her up against his body, and covered her protest with a kiss. Though he made no attempt to deepen the kiss, his mouth was warm and firm against hers.

He released her just as quickly.

Grace stumbled backward and gaped at the earl. “Is this the part where I’m supposed to slap you in the face and then march back into the ballroom alone?” She wondered if this had been his plan all along, though she could not fathom his motives.

Was he trying to ruin her reputation?

“I have another suggestion,” he said, his turquoise-blue gaze gleaming. “Come closer and kiss me again.”

“No,” Grace said, appalled by his suggestion. Lord Chillingsworth was clearly not to be trusted. “Why did you kiss me?”

“Answer a question first.”

“I think I’ve answered enough of your questions.”

He ignored her evasion, and asked, “Am I the first man to kiss you?”

Grace laughed nervously. “I have no intention of giving you a reply to such a rude question.”

The earl inclined his head, and for a moment she thought he would attempt to kiss her again, but he diverted course and leaned close enough for his lips to brush her ear.

“You already have, my darling girl,” he whispered, sending shivers down her arms and back. “No, don’t ruin it by feigning outrage. We both know you enjoyed it. Permit me the small victory that I was the first gent to kiss you.”

Grace took a deep breath as she prepared to tell Lord Chillingsworth what an arrogant blackguard he was—but then she changed her mind. While he deserved a slap and a good scolding, she refused to deliver the rebuke he expected from her.

Instead she brazenly turned her face toward his. Their lips were mere inches apart. “Why should I complain?” she replied. “You are old and experienced enough to be aware that your kisses are quite extraordinary.”

“Shall we stroll deeper into the Lovelaces’ back gardens?”

“A bit too daring for me, I confess. You’ll have to find another reckless miss for such adventures,” she said, moving out of his embrace before he decided to drag her off into the darkness.

“A pity,” he said, sounding as if he meant it. “I hope you remain in London. I would like the opportunity to persuade you to my side.”

“Oh, Frost … you might not believe me, but I am already on your side,” she said, walking away from him. It might be more prudent for her to return to the ballroom without him. “And that’s why you are a very dangerous man.”

The earl was much like his friend. He would never offer a lady his heart.

Frost shook his head. “Hunter has no idea what he is up against. I can’t decide if I pity or envy him.”

“I hope you’ll allow him to figure things out himself.”

“Striving to gain the upper hand, eh?”

“A lady needs to exploit her advantage when challenging a Lord of Vice.”

“And clever,” he said, suddenly coming to a decision. “Very well, I’ll keep my opinions to myself.”

“See that you do.” She hesitated and glanced back. “And perhaps one day I will reply truthfully to the question you refrained from asking.”

“And what question is that, Lady Grace?”

“You want to know whose kisses I prefer—yours or the duke’s?”

Frost’s shoulders shook as he laughed. “Oh, darling, more to the point, I know whose kisses you prefer this evening. Unless Hunter is an utter fool, I will have to be content with my singular triumph.”

Grace was still smiling when she rejoined the fretting Lady Netherley and her companions.

Chapter Eight

Hunter was in a foul mood.

It had taken him minutes to locate Lady Netherley. Unfortunately, the marchioness was not very forthcoming about Lady Grace or her whereabouts. Neither was Sin’s wife, Juliana. Or Regan, Isabel, or Sophia when he encountered the ladies. Reign and Dare were distracted with their wives. As for Sin, Hunter assumed he was busy attempting to coax his lady to leave the ball early.

Someone had told him Frost and Vane were in attendance, but he had not seen either gentleman.

How difficult was it to track down one lady?

Annoyed that once again his thoughts were directed toward the chit, he opened the door with more force than was necessary. Hunter stepped into the room. The interior was lit, and appeared to be a small private parlor. Perhaps it had been intended as a respite from the activities below, but no one had taken advantage of the solitude.

“Hunter, this is an unexpected pleasure.”

He immediately recognized the feminine voice. Putting a half smile on his face, he turned to greet the one lady he would have avoided if he had known she had decided to attend the Lovelaces’ ball. “Lady Cliffton, how long has it been?”