MY HEARTLESS DUKE

A STEAMY HISTORICAL REGENCY ROMANCE NOVEL

DASHING ROGUES
BOOK ONE

OceanofPDF.com
SALLY VIXEN

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 CONTENTS

Before You Start Reading…

Prologue

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Epilogue
Extended Epilogue

Preview:Tempting the Rakish Duke

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3

Also by Sally Vixen

About the Author

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 B E F O R E Y O U S TA R T R E A D I N G …

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 ABOUT THE BOOK

“Just one year, then I’ll be free of her…”

When Selina’s overprotective brother leaves for a year, he tasks the only
man Selina loathes with looking after her. His cold, dashing best friend, the
Duke of Barrington…
William is by all accounts a heartless rake. Selina is sweet and insecure. At
first, they agree to stay out of each other’s way. But soon, a twist of fate
forces them closer than ever. If only William hadn’t promised to never fall
in love…

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 PROLOGUE

“William, what are you doing here, young man? You should be in bed!”

The young boy smiled up at his mother’s gentle, yet exasperated,

expression. The Duchess of Barrington was already three decades old, and
yet, she looked no older than a young woman who had just made her bow.
However, when she regarded her young son just so, William could not help
but feel much younger than his nine years of age—no matter how much he
liked to claim that he was only a month shy of being truly a decade old.

“I…thought you might need my presence,” he grinned affably at her, trying

to project a brave image.

The truth was that he could not sleep that night. For some reason, he just lay
in bed, his heart pounding.

Of course, he did not want to tell his mother that he had been afraid. He was
already nine years old. How could he be afraid of the dark still?

But his mother’s soft laugh and twinkling eyes were the most beautiful
things in the world, and he found his heart easing up in her presence. His
father, the Duke of Barrington, always told him that his mother was the
most beautiful woman in all of London, and if his father believed it to be
true, then William knew it had to be a fact.
“Well, young men like to sleep in their own rooms,” the Duchess confided
in him, her soft silken robe a shimmering pool around her as she talked to
him at his eye level. “And you need not fret so much about me, dearest boy.
Your father is right here to protect me.”

“Father could always use some help,” William supplied. “He told me that
the best men are those who knew how to co-co…” He scrunched up his
nose as the word eluded him.

What was it his father said? Oh yes! Collaborate.

“Collaborate!” he finally burst out.

His mother smiled at him. “Your father is a very wise man, and it is lovely
how you are learning so much from him. You will make a fine duke
someday, William, as long as you take his counsel to heart.”

“But I do not want to be a duke!”

“Why ever not, dear boy?”

“Because to be a duke, that would mean that Father…that Father is no

longer a duke.”

He could not say what he feared the most. The thought of his dearest father
dying was absolutely terrifying to William.

The Duchess of Barrington smiled sadly at him. “You are much too somber
for your years, William. Now, off to bed with you—”

She had scarcely finished her admonition when the door burst open, causing
William to jump at the suddenness of it all.

“George!” the Duchess exclaimed. “Whatever is the meaning of—”

His father’s eyes fell on William, and the young boy saw an emotion in
them that he had never before associated with his brave, wonderful father—
fear.

“No time to waste!” he urged her. “Take William and go. I’ll try to hold
them off.”

William was barely aware of his mother’s gasp, her gentle hands becoming
frantic as she pushed him away from the bedroom she shared with his father
and into the adjacent suite that linked to the Duchess’ room.

They had barely managed to get into the suite. His eyes snagged on the
vanity mirror, where he had watched his mother get ready for countless
engagements. Now, it only seemed to magnify the tension that hung thick in
the air.

“Mother, what is wrong?” he asked, his young eyes widening in fear when
he heard the door burst open, accompanied by loud, angry voices.

“Shh!” the Duchess admonished him, her beautiful features filled with
terror. “Get in here, William. Quick! And whatever you do, do not make a
sound!”

“But where are you—”

But she had already pushed him into her armoire, his fall softened only by
the crush of silks and satins and velvets. He watched in horror as his mother
shut the doors of the armoire, just as the suite door was forced open.

From the slit between the doors, William could see his father being
restrained by two men in familiar livery. They wore the official uniform of
the servants of Barrington Estate, but the young boy was certain that he had
never seen them before.
Unlike the other members of the aristocracy, his parents had never
reprimanded him for engaging with the servants, so he knew them all quite
well. He even played with their children on occasion.

One of these men had a dirty brown beard that looked like he had not
washed it in days. Another had bright red hair and what looked to be a lazy
eye. One of them—the leader of the bunch, it appeared—had a terrifying
scar that slashed from his right eyebrow to his cheek.

These men…they were not from Barrington Estate. How did they get their
hands on the servants’ livery?

“How dare you barge into Barrington Estate in such a manner!?”

His mother’s voice rang out with the full authority of the Duchess of
Barrington, a noblewoman from a long line of aristocrats. And yet, there
was faint tremor in her voice as she was met with gales of laughter.

“Ye are a beauty, I give ye that!” One of the men grinned lasciviously at her,
his eyes roaming greedily as he took in her thin robe. “How ’bout I—”

“Keep your filthy hands off my wife!” the Duke growled.

“Who’s gonna stop me? You?” William watched as the man brutally hit his
father’s head with the butt of his pistol, and the Duke let out a pained groan.

“What do you want? Money? Jewels?” his mother cried out. She took out
her jewelry box and flung it at them. Pearls, rubies, sapphires, and
diamonds spilled out as it crashed onto the floor. “Take it and go!”

“Why, thank ye, ma’am!” they guffawed in reply. “We’ll be takin’ these as
well!”
William felt like he was going to be sick. What were these men doing in his
home in the middle of the night? And why were they hurting his father?

Suddenly, another man joined the group.

“We can’t find the boy!” he complained. “And I’ve searched up an’ down
an’ back!”

The leader regarded him as if he was an imbecile. “Well, he couldn’t have

gotten far! Find him!”

“But I’ve already looked everywhere, and still no sign of that damned boy!”

“Yeah! The boss did say that he tended to go explorin’ an’ all that…”

“In the middle of the night? Aren’t children supposed ter be in bed
already?”

“I don’t care! Find him, or I’ll make sure ye regret it!”

As the men argued amongst themselves, William heard something else—

footsteps. Many more footsteps!

Were there more of them? He certainly hoped not!

There was a loud knocking on the door, and William feared that whoever
was on the other side would knock the doors down.

“Your Grace!” he heard someone calling from outside. “Your Grace, is

something amiss?”

William’s heart soared crazily in relief. Hopkins! It was Hopkins, their

faithful butler! He had come to their rescue, and from the sound of it, he
had brought men with him as well!
The young boy could hardly contain his yelp of happiness, clamping his
hands over his mouth when he remembered that he had to stay quiet.

That he must not get caught.

Fortunately, the men were far more preoccupied at the prospect that the
staff had been alerted to their presence and that they were quite likely
surrounded.

“Drat! We’ve been caught!” the man with the dirty brown beard groaned.
“And we still haven’t found the boy!”

“Never mind that!” their leader said hastily. “We got His Grace and the
missus here.”

“No!” William heard his father scream. “Not her. Leave my wife alone, I
beg you!”

“Ooh! I like that—a fancy Duke beggin’ us for mercy!” Dirty Beard
snickered.

The pounding at the door continued until it stopped, and then, there was the
unmistakable jangle of keys.

Of course, William knew that Mrs. Watts kept a ring of keys to every room
in the house. Aside from the Duchess, the head housekeeper was the only
one with such access to Barrington Estate. Hopkins must have summoned
her.

In a moment, they would open the door and—

A loud shot rang out followed by a woman’s piercing wail.

“You monsters!”
Three more shots pierced the night air, and he watched in horror as his
beautiful mother crumpled into a bloody heap in front of his father, her
scream dying in her throat. Her arm stretched out before her as if she was
trying to reach for her husband even with her dying breath.

At that moment, the door burst open, and there was a stream of curses as
Hopkins and a group of footmen barged in. The intruders, seeing that they
were about to be caught, scattered in several directions. William barely
noticed their scarred leader jumping out of the window.

I hope he perishes on the way down, the young boy thought.

The intruders tried to escape, but they were quickly overpowered by the
stronger footmen. One of them tried to fight back and was immediately
clobbered into submission.

“Your Grace!” the butler cried out in alarm as he looked upon the prone
bodies of the Duke and his Duchess, their blood soaking into the carpet
beneath them. His normally stoic features went pale.

“God in heaven, no!” Jeremy, one of the footmen, cried out, his grip
tightening on one of the men’s necks. “You sick bastards!”

Hopkins turned around, looking wildly. “Where is the young master?” he

asked frantically. “If you have hurt the boy, I swear to God—”

“We couldn’t find him,” one of the men groaned. “Damn kid—”

“Be quiet!” Harold, another footman, punched him. “You have no right to
speak his name!”

“We don’t even know who the hell he is or where he’s gone!”
William could not move, could not breathe. He could only slump against
the fabrics, nestled in the clothes he knew his mother would never again
wear.

He was only vaguely aware of Hopkins walking over to the armoire. With
an uncharacteristic slowness, the butler pulled the doors open.

The young boy looked up at the butler with dull eyes. The older man had
tears streaming down his cheeks.

“Lord Will—no, Your Grace,” he amended in a trembling voice. “I am so

sorry. I was too late.”

Your Grace.

But William did not want to be the Duke of Barrington—he had told his
mother that very same thing not long ago. He did not want to inherit the
titles and the estates and the power and the prestige…

Because all of that could only mean one thing—his father was dead.

But they were dead—his father and mother both. Murdered in cold blood in
their own rooms.

His father had tried to hold them off, to buy some time for his family to
escape. His mother had ensured with her final, desperate actions that they
would not be able to find him.

And William was now truly the Duke of Barrington.

Not his brave, strong, wise father. Not anymore.

The young boy sank to the carpeted floor and screamed in anguish.
OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 1

“I heard that Lord Carrington has just returned to London after his
Grand Tour, and from all accounts, he is absolutely divine!”

Under the bright lights of the chandeliers, Selina Walford’s green eyes
twinkled with mischief. “Divine, you say? How so?”

“Well, if one has a yearly income of at least five thousand pounds, he ought
to be!”

“So…it is not his looks that are absolutely divine, but rather, it must be his
wallet,” Selina teased her friend.

Julia Lewis, the eldest daughter of Lord Powell, flushed a delicate pink that
was at odds with her flaming red hair. She delicately swatted at her friend.
“Oh, you would never understand! But even without Lord Carrington, there
are still a great many eligible bachelors in this room—”
“—and all of them probably look just as divine,” Mary, her younger sister,
drawled, casting a hapless smile at Selina. “Last week, you claimed that
Lord Haversham was the handsomest man you had ever seen. The week
before that, it was Lord Bentley.”

The redhead winked at her. “Why, I believe that Lord Crowley will be
asking me to dance tonight, so it is not such a loss. He already made me
promise three days ago to reserve one of my dances for him.”

“Lord Crowley? Hmm…” Selina mused. “I did hear he lost a considerable

sum at White’s the other night…”

“Who told you that? Your brother again?”

Selina shrugged delicately. “I believe Andrew might have mentioned it.”

“And I suppose your dear brother has just about disparaged every man in
London?”

As much as Selina loved her brother, he never quite got along well with her
best friend. Sometimes, it was quite entertaining to watch their bickering
matches. There were times, however, that being caught between the both of
them could get quite exasperating.

But as much as Julia was biased against Andrew, Selina could not deny that
her brother had done precisely that—disparage most of the eligible
bachelors that might have been her prospective suitors.

Andrew, she realized with a dismal sigh, was far more overprotective than
their own father, Lord Towbridge. In fact, Selina was of the opinion that the
Marquess of Trowbridge could not wait to marry her off to the first man
who showed an interest in her—even if he should be three times her age or
as odious as Lord Huxley, who had offended half of the ladies of the Ton.

Thankfully, her brother had stepped in before Lord Huxley could even ask
for an introduction.

It was a sad fact of life that marriage could dictate her future happiness—
and that she had very little say in it.

“I know that look in your eyes, Red, so you might as well cease whatever
mischief you have planned,” a deep voice intoned. “Or if you must carry on
with your shenanigans, then leave my sister out of it.”

“Speak of the devil, and he appears,” Julia muttered under her breath.

Selina turned around to find her older brother, Andrew Walford, the Earl of
Rowley, regarding Julia with a warning glare.

“Andrew!” Selina greeted him brightly. “We were just—”

“I heard that your friend intends to dance with the entire male population in
London,” he retorted icily. “A grand feat, I must say.”

“Except you, of course,” Julia piped up. “You would not do. You are not
exactly an eligible bachelor.”

Of course, nothing could be further from the truth. Selina knew for a fact
that if it was not for her sake, Andrew would never make an appearance in a
ball such as this which was overflowing with Society mothers with
daughters of marriageable age.

“And even if I was an eligible bachelor, I would not consider marrying

you,” the Earl shot back.

“Then, thank heavens that not everybody in London is as tasteless as you

are!” Julia crossed her arms over her chest. “What is wrong with wanting to
dance with a nice gentleman, anyway? Maybe it truly is for the best that
you will be going away. Maybe then, Selina will finally be able to stand
within two feet of a gentleman and have a chance at being courted!”

Selina flushed at the reminder of just how overprotective her brother could
be, and his tendencies had only increased as his upcoming trip drew ever
nearer. To provoke him at this point would be most unwise, but Julia had
always been one to tempt fate.

Or her brother’s temper.

“Julia, please!” she admonished her friend. “If you antagonize him further,
it will only make things worse.”

It was true that Andrew’s presence had been an effective deterrent to

prospective suitors—some of them were even genuinely nice young men
that Selina herself would not mind talking to. Unfortunately, her older
brother always had something to say about each and every one of them.

He has been like that ever since that whole affair with Daniel, she sighed
inwardly.

But was every gentleman—and she used that term loosely—just as bad as
Daniel?

He had only been courting Selina for a brief two weeks when he was found
in a compromising position with a certain courtesan, who was famous for
her liaisons with married men.

Fortunately, Selina was yet to marry him although he had hinted at it on

several occasions. It was one thing for a man to be discreet with his affairs
and another thing to be caught flaunting it before the whole Ton.

Selina, of course, had been a bit let down but not exactly devastated.
Andrew, on the other hand, was furious, and it had taken all of her effort to
convince him not to harm her erstwhile suitor in any way.
If he did, she warned her brother, it would only drag her name into the mud.
It was better to cut the courtship and say nothing more of it so as not to
provoke the gossips.

But if Julia and Andrew carried on much further, they might inadvertently
bring up some issues that had long been buried in the past…

Besides, Lady Canterbury was already beginning to eye them, and Selina
knew that the older lady was a dreadful gossip. It simply would not do to
capture her attention.

“You better keep your ideas to yourself, Red, because even when I leave, I
will make sure that my sister will not be tainted by the likes of you,”
Andrew declared with a certain smugness.

Selina looked at her brother in surprise. “What do you mean?”

“You truly did not think I would leave you defenseless, did you?” Andrew
looked visibly affronted by the mere thought of it.

She was about to demand an explanation as to what her dear brother meant
exactly by that when she caught sight of a familiar, tall, dark-haired man
striding towards them with the assured gait of someone who was supremely
confident of his place in Society.
And with his looks, who could blame him? Selina wondered. If there was
anyone that ought to have been referred to as “divine”, it would be him.

His was a face that would not have been out of place on a fallen angel. His
icy blue eyes regarded their small group coldly. He was quite possibly the
handsomest man Selina had ever seen—and she had seen a lot in her two
Seasons. The only thing was that his sensuous lips appeared to be fixed in
what seemed like a permanent scowl.

That immediately put Selina off.

He looks like he would be dreadful company, she sighed inwardly. He looks

like nothing in this world could ever make him happy. Or excited. Or
anything at all, really.

No, the man before her looked like the entire world had disappointed him
three times over, and he expected nothing more from it but more of the
same.

“Rowley.”

And his voice sounded positively sinful, too. Like rich, dark chocolate.

All of that was wasted on His Grace, William Gillingham, the Duke of
Barrington.
From the corner of her eyes, she saw Julia batting her eyelashes at the
Duke. Selina would not be surprised if the embodiment of masculine
perfection before her acknowledged her friend. If there was anybody who
could draw a reaction from the Duke, it would be her best friend.

With her gorgeous locks of flaming red hair contrasting against her
alabaster skin and her blue eyes twinkling vibrantly, Julia Lewis was like a
human flame, and instead of dampening her vivid coloring to fit with the
fashions of the Ton, she embraced it wholly. It was her confidence that
made her impossible to resist.

Well…almost impossible to resist because there was still not even a flicker
of emotion on his face, and Selina did not find that very attractive.

At all.

Well, maybe a little.

“A good evening to you, Your Grace,” the redhead greeted him, her voice
dropping to a sultry register. “You are looking extremely…wonderful
tonight.”

She lingered over her words as if she was tasting them on her tongue.

The Duke, as usual, did not even deign to acknowledge her presence.
“Please do not embarrass yourself.” Andrew rolled his eyes at her, adding,
“You look absolutely ridiculous.”

Selina watched as the Duke whispered something into her brother’s ear,
half-mesmerized by even the smallest of his actions. Truly, if he was not
quite so unlikeable, she could admit to him being the most good-looking
man in the entire Ton.

However, she had the rather fortunate tendency to look beyond a

gentleman’s features and his annual income, and when it came to his
attitude, the Duke of Barrington fell drastically short in her estimation.

In all honesty, she could not stand him.

Even if he was one of her brother’s closest friends.

“Ah…you will have to excuse us, Selina,” Andrew turned to her

apologetically. “There is something we have to discuss.”

Selina was well-bred enough to keep her expression neutral. She knew her
brother’s reputation with the ladies as a charming gentleman at best and an
unrepentant rogue at worst. Whatever it was he discussed with his friends,
she wished to hear none of it.

It was one thing to hear about a man’s peccadilloes through the gossips of
the Ton. It was an entirely different thing when the gentleman in question
was your own brother.

“Very well, then,” she smiled thinly at them. “I shall see you…later, I
suppose?”

“Of course. I shall be back as soon as possible.”

“Take as long as you like. We shall not miss you!” Julia piped in, to which
Andrew once again shot her a warning glare before leaving with his best
friend.

And as much as Selina wanted to kick herself in the behind, she could not
help watching the broad back of the Duke as he disappeared into the crowd
with her brother.

“That truly is a waste of a fine male specimen,” Julia sighed dramatically.

“From the moment I found out he was your brother’s friend, I knew he had
to be flawed in some way.”

“His attitude does put some people off…” Mary frowned.

“That,” Selina agreed, “is putting it rather lightly.”

“No. It is his choice in friends that is his greatest character flaw.”

“You are just biased against Lord Rowley.”

“What is there to like about Lord Rowley?” Julia muttered, fluttering her
fingers dismissively. “Anyway, why are we wasting our precious breath
discussing Lord Rowley when we are in the middle of a ball, surrounded by
eligible bachelors all vying for our attention.” She grinned and winked at
them. “Come, let us enjoy the night, ladies!”

“You mean that they are all vying for your attention,” Mary pointed out
with a soft sigh. No sooner had the words left her lips then a debonair
young man approached their small group and asked Julia for a dance.

“It would be my pleasure, Lord Engelbert,” Julia smiled brilliantly at the

man.

Selina and Mary could only look on as his cheeks turned a delicate shade of
pink, and he stumbled over his next few words before he managed to lead
Julia out onto the dance floor. Julia flashed them a wink over her shoulder
before proceeding to charm the young lord to within an inch of his life.

“Are you sure you do not want to dance, Selina?” Mary asked her with a
soft smile. “You do not have to worry about me, you know.”

“Oh, I know very well that you can manage yourself,” she grinned at her
friend, “but I think I shall stay here for a bit more. I do not actually feel like
dancing right now.”
“Now is your chance with your brother gone.”

Selina let out a sigh. “Andrew can be a little too much at times, but it has
only gotten worse since…you know.”

Mary was a good enough friend to not even acknowledge Daniel.

“You did hear what he said earlier, right?” she asked instead.

“That he was not going to leave me defenseless in his absence?” Selina

chuckled. “As if he needs to worry about that when we have Julia with us.”

“That is the truth.”

Both young ladies shared a look before bursting into giggles. While Julia
could be charming and dazzling on the dance floor, she could be absolutely
difficult to deal with if she chose to—as Andrew could attest to.

“You…do not think it has something to do with whatever it is he and His

Grace are discussing, right?”

“What? No!” Selina laughed nervously. “I’m pretty sure it has nothing to do
with that.”
“Oh, well…I did hear that His Grace will be staying in London longer this
time.”

“He probably just has business here.”

“Yes, but have you ever heard of him staying here for longer than he wants
to?”

Selina paused. “You do have a point. But whatever his business, I am sure
that it has absolutely nothing to do with me.”

The only thing that she and the Duke of Barrington had in common was
Andrew, and when her brother left for his trip, Selina was counting on not
seeing the surly Duke for an extended amount of time.

And as much as she loved her older brother, he could be overbearing at

times, so she was actually a little glad for this reprieve. After all, this was
already her second Season, and she was not the naive débutante her brother
seemed to think she still was.

What could possibly go wrong this year?

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 CHAPTER 2

“U pon my word…I never thought I would see the day when the
Duke of Barrington would be at an event such as this.”

William felt his lips curl in derision at the sound of the sultry voice. To a
casual onlooker, it could pass for a smile, but it truly was an expression of
distaste.

The Ton never lacked for women who either wanted to jump in his bed,
marry him for his money and titles, or both.

He had never had much patience for them although he had to admit that
bolder women—young widows, dissatisfied wives, and the like—were
regularly welcome in his bed for as long as they did not expect the type of
sweet nothings and lovemaking that he was incapable of.

But for all it was worth, the lady before him probably expected those things.
Maybe even more.
Like an offer for her hand in marriage.

The thought of it made his blood curdle in his veins.

It was for this reason that William had always reserved a particular hatred
for the fancy social events of the Ton. When at all possible, he avoided
them like the plague.

Not only that, Society mothers with marriageable daughters were the bane
of an eligible bachelor’s existence, and sadly, there were far too few criteria
for a bachelor to be considered ineligible.

“Are you not going to…indulge in something stronger, Your Grace?” the
woman before him purred.

William shook his head with a slight smile. “I am here merely on business.”

She chuckled. “How could you think of business in an event such as this?”
She gestured at the broad expanse of the ballroom and then peered up at
him from beneath fluttering lashes. “Are you truly so cold as they claim you
are, Your Grace?”

Oh, you have no idea just how much…

“Ah! William!”
William inclined his head and found Andrew walking back towards him
with a smile that hid his uneasiness at the sight of the Duke talking to a
woman. His friend was well aware of the fact that William had no patience
in dealing with small talk and that he had absolutely no compunction at all
about offending those who were unfortunate enough to cross him.

“You will have to excuse me, My Lady,” he rebuffed her, coldly walking
away from the gaping woman.

No doubt, she thought that she could successfully seduce him with her
voice and a few well-placed touches, but William wanted none of what she
was offering.

He wanted nothing of what anyone this ballroom had to offer.

However, there were some who thrived in the social scene—like his best
friend, Andrew Walford, the Earl of Rowley, who had just adeptly managed
to extricate himself from yet another ambitious mother who was ready to
foist her unmarried daughter on him.

But William knew better—his friend might feign some polite interest, but
no gentleman in his right mind would entertain such “offers” unless one
wished to be trapped in unholy matrimony with a vapid young woman, who
only knew how to converse about the weather and the latest fashions.
Of course, there were some exceptions to this particular rule.

His eyes swung over to the other side of the room where Selina Walford
was happily conversing with Lord Powell’s wallflower of a daughter. Her
hair shone a deep honey under the lights of the chandelier, her eyes brighter
than any illuminating fixture. She smiled genuinely, and the sight of it made
him unconsciously squint, almost as if it was blinding him.

Unlike other young ladies, she did not overtly try to flirt with him or regard
him with fear.

No, she regarded him with a mild distaste—almost as if she barely tolerated
him on account of him being her brother’s friend—and William decided
that he liked it better that way. He would not want to have any extended
conversations with his best friend’s younger sister at all.

If there was anything worse than vapid conversation, it was her boundless
optimism that bordered on naivete.

Or stupidity.

William found neither trait to be attractive.

“You owe me a big favor for coming here tonight,” he growled at his friend,
who finally managed to fend off the lady’s advances. “This bloody place is
crawling with women foisting their daughters or themselves on me…”
Andrew only let out a laugh and shrugged his broad shoulders. They might
be the best of friends, but they could not have been any more different.
Where William disdained frivolous social interactions, the Earl of Rowley
thrived in them.

“And Lady Farthingale seems determined to be part of your roster,” his best
friend chuckled.

His roster—of course, he kept a list of women who satisfied his physical
needs without demanding anything more than a diamond bracelet or a pair
of sapphire earrings. William was certainly generous as long as those ladies
respected his boundaries and his abhorrence for fostering any sort of
relationship beyond the physical.

Andrew was well-aware of such a list—he probably had one himself

although William doubted his friend was as cold and transactional about it
as he was.

It was also probably thrice as long.

“She will not do at all,” he quickly retorted. He nodded his head subtly in
the direction of the lady in question. “Besides, she has already moved on.”

Andrew followed his line of sight to where the fair Lady Farthingale was
successfully wrapping the young Lord Hollingsworth around her little
finger with a few well-placed looks and a smile that could reduce men to
blathering idiots.

“She does move fast,” he admitted with a smile and a shrug. “Poor man
would not know what hit him.”

Man? William thought in derision. If he could improve his standards, he

just might be worthy of being called such.

Unfortunately, the London social scene was filled with entitled dandies just
like Lord Hollingsworth.

“You say it like it’s such an awful thing for you,” William muttered. “As I
recall, the Viscount of Alverton nearly called you out for besmirching his
daughter’s honor just last month.”

“A minor misunderstanding,” his friend laughed carelessly. “And one that

could be resolved with a nice, long conversation about his daughter and his
wife’s antics.”

Indeed, Andrew might look the part of the harmless, charming gentleman,
and many Society mothers had indeed mistaken him for such; however,
William was quite aware just what a shrewd mind lay behind that smile.

“I gather that you did not invite me to come here to this bloody ballroom
just to discuss your travails,” he commented curtly.
Andrew laughed. “Straight to the point as always.”

“Going around in circles is more your forte.”

“Well, I have to find some way to let the ladies down easily after they have
been crying over you.”

William snorted inwardly at that. His friend never lacked for attention from
the ladies of the Ton. In fact, they absolutely fawned over him.

“You would not survive two months away from all this,” he pointed out.

“Why do you have such little faith in me?” the Earl grinned before his
expression took on a more serious note. “Actually, that is what I wanted to
talk to you about—me leaving.”

William’s brow furrowed. “Are you getting all sentimental on me now?”

“What? Bloody hell, no! I am not stupid enough to solicit any sort of
sympathy from the likes of you.”

“Then, what is it?”

His friend grew silent, and William followed his gaze across the ballroom
and landed on Selina Walford. Tonight, she was dressed in a vivid green
that brought out the dewy creaminess of her skin. She smiled genuinely at
her friends, and William knew there was not a bone of artifice in her entire
body.

Andrew and his sister were quite close which was a rarity in itself in the
Ton. Like most heirs, Andrew had been raised to follow in his father’s
footsteps while Selina—well, from all accounts, she was sufficiently
educated on her role in Society with the expectation that she find a suitable
enough match before she faded into spinsterhood.

Looking at his friend, William had a sinking feeling in his stomach. Oh

no…

“I am worried about her,” Andrew finally admitted softly. “You know how
Selina is—she wears her bloody heart on her sleeve. She might not talk
about it, but I know that she is still bothered by that bastard—”

“She has her friends with her,” William cut in. “She will not be totally
alone.”

He looked over to where Julia Lewis had joined them after leading the poor
Lord Engelbert in their last dance. Lord Powell’s eldest daughter was a
force to be reckoned with, and she often went into ballrooms like these like
a hurricane, leaving a trail of forlorn hearts in her wake.
“Are you talking about Julia Lewis?” Andrew’s scorn could not have been
more apparent. “I am far more worried she will drag Selina into her
shenanigans. And her sister? She is just as vulnerable as Selina.”

“There is also Lady Powell to keep them all in line,” William pointed out.

“Yes, but I would feel better if someone else was looking out for her.
Someone whom I trust.”

“I am not exactly the sort to be trusted with impressionable young ladies

like your sister.”

Andrew burst out laughing. “True. But impressionable young ladies are not
exactly the sort of women you like, and that is why I trust you.”

William felt like he was losing control of the situation more and more with
each word. It was true that he and Selina hardly got along—he was well
aware that she disliked him for lack of a better term.

“Vermont has also not been taking everything as lightly as he appears to.”

The name was uttered with such derision that William briefly wondered
how Lord Daniel Vermont could still be alive at the moment. He had a
feeling that it was Selina who probably held back her brother’s hand, and he
somewhat admired her for it.

If Andrew had been allowed to enact some sort of revenge, maybe call out
the bastard who dared to humiliate his sister during their courtship, it would
have caused a bigger scandal.

What Selina accomplished by quietly sweeping everything under the rug

was to let the whole issue blow over until the Ton found something far more
diverting than her own unsuccessful courtship.

It was rather unusual for a young lady, but then again, she had never been
like the other debutantes he had known.

“I know I am asking a lot out of you—”

Oh, you have no idea…

“—but Vermont is a sneaky bastard, and Selina…well, you know how she
is.”

Of course, William was aware of just what Selina Walford was like. She
was like sunlight personified—so bright and cheerful that it hurt to look at
her for too long.
Especially for one who had been in the darkness for most of his life.

No, the last thing Andrew really wanted was to appoint him as some sort of
guardian for his younger sister.

Selina would probably agree with him on that account.

“Did you even consult her on this?” he sighed.

“Of course not. You know she would never agree to such a thing!”

Which made what Andrew was asking of him even more daunting.
Temporary guardianship was one thing. Temporary guardianship over an
unwilling ward was a whole other thing.

He could have argued that she was quite honestly the responsibility of her
mother, the Marchioness of Trowbridge, but he was all too aware of the
genteel neglect that Selina had to grow up with. If it had not been for
Andrew looking out for her at every turn, she would probably not have
grown up to be as gratingly optimistic as she did.

“I know I am asking a lot of you, but she is my only sister,” his friend said
softly.
William knew he had already lost half the battle even before he had stepped
into the Manderley ballroom. No doubt, Andrew had already planned
everything out, and as much as William hated being coerced into doing
something, he had to agree with his best friend.

Selina Walford did need watching over, if only because she still believed in
the innate goodness of people.

Well, except him, of course. He did not have much good left in him.

Left to her own devices, she probably would not survive in this cruel world.
The gossips in the Ton would tear her apart. Gentlemen would be all over
themselves trying to take advantage of her kindness.

He closed his eyes and sighed inwardly.

“Fine. But in exchange, I want something, too…”

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 3

S elina could not explain the feeling of unease that plagued her ever
since the Duke of Barrington appeared in the ballroom. He was one
of her brother’s closest friends, but there was something about him that
always unsettled her.

Especially when his dark blue eyes met hers.

She sucked in a harsh breath when his gaze caught hers from across the
ballroom, instinctively ducking away as she felt warmth steal into her
cheeks.

I have been caught!

“Are you all right, my dear?” Julia looked at her in concern. “You look
rather…flushed.”
Selina shook her head. “N-no…I just feel that the ballroom is rather
crowded tonight.”

“It is,” Mary nodded in acknowledgment.

“Lady Manderley believes that it is a fabulous way to bring everyone

together.”

Selina pursed her lips at Julia’s knowing smirk. The Manderley ballroom
was indeed a bit small for an event of this size, but no one dared to refuse
Lady Manderley’s invitation, for she was known to brutally cut anyone who
so displeased her—that and she was known to be a vicious gossip.

“Lord Morrison paid a visit to Papa the other day,” Mary said softly to her
sister. “You would not have known anything about what he meant to say,
would you?”

“He did mention something of the sort.”

Suitors were forever lining up to Powell Estate, and Lord Powell had even
complained more than a couple of times that they were as much of a
headache as no suitors at all. Even if his eldest daughter was rather bold and
audacious, there was no shortage of men who were attracted to her flame,
and Julia reveled in their attention, but Selina knew that none of them were
a match for her friend.
Julia was simply…too much for them to handle, and Lord Powell was most
likely aware that a good match for his daughter was yet to seek an audience
with him which was why he was holding at for that gentleman.

“His Grace truly is an extraordinary man,” Mary said wistfully. “Just

earlier, I saw Lady Farthingale approach him. I have to admit that they look
beautiful together.”

Selina had seen that, too, and for some reason, the sight of it twisted her
stomach into knots, and she had no idea why.

“The man certainly has a way about him that makes everything look good,”
Julia scoffed with a mischievous smile. “I have it on good authority that the
Duke is rather…extraordinary in his private affairs, too.”

“What do you mean?” her sister frowned.

“I meant that he is exceedingly adept in matters of the bedroom.”

Selina’s insides now felt like they were being stirred in a pot at her friend’s
words.

“But you know how he is,” the redhead added. “They always cast their
sights on him, but he cannot be bothered with the lot of them. Such a
splendid looking man, and yet, he is as cold as the winds of winter.”
“Which is why you should refrain from teasing him so much,” Mary
admonished her sister gently. “Heaven knows what will happen when he
loses his temper.”

“Gentlemen never lose their tempers.”

“Not with you, perhaps.”

As the sisters were embroiled in their conversation, Selina once more stole
a look from across the ballroom. She could not help it. Why was her sight
always drawn to that tall, powerful figure with his broad shoulders and ice-
cold eyes?

But then again, she could not help but wonder what it would feel like to be
kissed by him…to be touched so intimately that her skin would burn from
the sheer pleasure of it…

She shook her head inwardly, warding off such indecent thoughts. Even if
he was the most perfect creature that she had ever laid her eyes on, even if
his very gaze left her breathless sometimes, there was no benefit in pursuing
such thoughts.

Not when he was so cold that it made her shiver even in the middle of a
heated and cramped ballroom.

“So unlikable…” she muttered under her breath.

“What do you mean, dearest?”

Caught again. She smiled weakly at Mary’s soft query. “I mean the Duke,”
she clarified. “He is rather unlikable.”

The younger Lewis sister gave Julia a look as if to make her point about the
Duke. “If even Selina feels that he is irredeemable, then it is best that you
stop goading the gentleman. After all, she probably knows about him more
than we do because he is a rather close friend of her brother’s.”

“Her brother?” the redhead sneered, her tone implying just what she
thought of Andrew.

“I cannot help but think that something seems to be amiss,” Selina

murmured, her gaze still on her brother and the Duke.

Even though the whole of London probably wished that His Grace appeared
at such events more often, she knew for a fact that he disdained such
frivolities. What could they possibly be discussing that was so important
that he had to make an appearance tonight?

And why did she feel so bothered by it? Andrew’s affairs had never
unsettled her as much before.
Her brother might have affected a carefree attitude throughout the years that
caused their father some amount of frustration, but he had always proven
himself to be a capable person. More capable, in fact, than most other
gentlemen in the Ton.

From across the ballroom, she could see both men shake hands and that
feeling of impending doom returned in full force.

Selina was more than just familiar with her brother—she also had a good
idea just how his mind worked. He could not possibly be striking a deal
with the devil himself to watch over her in his absence, could he?

But then, that was exactly something that Andrew might do.

Heaven help her, but the thought of having to be in his friend’s company
more than what was usual—or even necessary—was already making her
feel nauseous.

And heated at the same time.

No, she could not allow something like that to happen. She had to stop
Andrew, or the next year would become a veritable torture for her!

“Excuse me,” she murmured to her friends. “But…I might have to talk to
my brother for a moment.”
Mary smiled at her. “Go ahead, Selina. Julia still has a few dances lined up,
so we shall be here for a while.”

Selina smiled at her quiet friend with some gratitude. Amongst the three of
them, Mary might be the quietest one, but she was far more effective at
keeping her sister out of trouble which was no mean feat, given that Julia
seemed to have a tendency to run headlong into it.

“I shall not be long,” she promised them.

Carefully, Selina began to pick her way across the crowd, inwardly
despairing at the fact that Lady Manderley had once again filled the
ballroom with an overwhelming crush of people. It was one thing to look
across the ballroom and an entirely different matter to find one’s way across
it.

Truly, someone must tell her about the atrocity of squeezing so many guests
in such a cramped space, Selina thought to herself. But who would be brave
enough to dare?

It felt like forever, before she finally made her way to her brother, who was
rather surprised at seeing her appear beside him so suddenly.

“Selina? What are you doing here? Are you feeling unwell?”
She shook her head at the concern in his tone. Julia would say that her
brother was extremely overprotective, and she would not be wrong.

“Hello,” she smiled at him, hating the way her voice was sounding breathy
from the exertion of making her way through the crowded ballroom. “I
could not help but wonder what was going on. I could see you looking at
me from across the ballroom.”

“Oh, that?” Andrew smiled. “Barrington and I had just agreed on him
keeping an eye out for you in my absence.”

She was right! She should have known better than to underestimate the
lengths her brother’s overprotective nature would go.

“I do not need him to watch me,” she told him vehemently. “I am not a
child!”

“Selina, you forget that matter with that bastard Vermont—”

“I can handle him!” She glared furiously at her brother, fighting to keep her
voice even. “I am hardly ever alone. He would be a fool to attempt
something when there are so many people looking.”

“But he was also a fool to dally with a courtesan when he was already
courting a young lady of good standing in the Ton,” a cool voice remarked.
“Lady Selina, I believe you underestimate the foolishness and depravity a
gentleman can sink to. In this case, Lord Vermont’s intellectual capacity is
not at all reliable.”

If she had not been so angry at being foisted off on him, she would have
laughed at how the Duke had just called Lord Vermont stupid, for lack of a
better term. Then again, he never was one to mince words.

Lord Daniel Vermont was a man who was totally enamored with himself. A
veritable dandy. She was hardly heartbroken at having to break up their
courtship as much as Andrew liked to convince himself that she was.

She was actually just a little embarrassed, but the Ton had already moved
on to the next titillating scandal.

“A gentleman’s depravity—ha! Are you warning me about him or about

you?” she hissed at the Duke although her vexation had already partly
dissipated.

The look of disgust on his face, though, clearly relayed what he thought of
the idea of being compared to her suitor.

“Unlike Lord Vermont, I would never be so foolish as to do the things he

did,” he replied icily. “As long as you stay out of my way, this should not
pose a problem to either of us.”
“Good! And that goes both ways, Your Grace—you better stay out of my
way as well!”

With that said, she angrily stomped back to the other side of the ballroom
before she could say something even worse and draw even more attention
upon them. As much as she detested the overall situation, this was hardly
the proper time and place to make a scene. She would wait for a better time
to scold Andrew!

William smiled inwardly at the sight of Lady Selina angrily making her way
back to her friends, her spine stiff, shoulders back, and eyes filled with fire.
There was also that rather delectable flush that had spread across her cheeks
and the creamy expanse of her chest…

He frowned as he chased away thoughts of his closest friend’s sister. No, it

would not do to think of her that way.

Not only was Andrew fiercely protective of Selina, but…she was also
everything that he should be avoiding. She may look absolutely alluring,
but she was also innocent and curious with just a bit of impudence.

She may not know it, but her brother was right—there was no shortage of
men who would take advantage of her trusting nature.

“Well, that went far better than I expected.”

William shot his friend a bemused look. “Why? Did you expect her to stir
up a fuss and make a scene?”

The Earl of Rowley shook his head. “She truly does not like you. But then
again, you do not have to truly like each other for you to keep an eye out for
her. Maybe…” he shrugged. “Anyway, just try not to anger her too much, or
it might make your job more difficult than it is. You know how Selina is—
she can be rather…”

“Headstrong.”

“Yes, that is one way of putting it.”

Lady Selina Walford may be a handful, but William was rather confident
that it would not take much to keep her in line. She might have a lot to say
about the matter, but he meant what he told her—as long as they kept away
from each other, there would not be any problems.

At least, he did not perceive any in the foreseeable future.

But just in case, he was going to watch out for that suitor of hers. He might
not go out that much, but William heard that the man had been spotted at
the places that Lady Selina liked to frequent…

“Well, if this is her reaction to having you look after her in my absence, she
is going to be absolutely furious when she finds out that you will be moving
much closer.” Andrew shook his head.

William had no doubt she was going to be much more furious at that, but
then again, Lady Selina Walford had little choice in that matter.

And if she kept to herself and spared him from any problems, then they did
not have to unnecessarily antagonize each other at all.

Maybe.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 4

“I still do not understand what I am doing here at Rowley House at

such an ungodly hour!”

Selina could not help but smile in amusement at her friend’s grumbling.
Julia could charm any man she wished, but for some reason, her enmity
with Andrew ran deep.

To say that the two of them could hardly stand each other was an
understatement. Why, whenever the two crossed paths, they flung barbed
words at each other, trading verbal blows with ease.

“Now, now…it is only for this day,” Selena placated her disgruntled friend.
“After all, Andrew is leaving for the better part of a year.” She paused and
sighed, “Maybe even more than a year. I truly appreciate your coming here
to support me despite your feelings towards him.”

“You are my dearest friend, Selina. Unfortunately, your brother is a terrible

creature,” Julia muttered. “I could hardly fathom why they would say he is
the most charming gentleman in all of London. If he—” her voice lowered
vehemently “—could be called charming, then all the rest must be
barbarians…”

Selina merely smiled as they crossed the foyer to find Andrew with his back
to them, giving what seemed like final instructions to his loyal butler,
Davis, who was holding a framed painting carefully.

“He can keep that painting if he likes, but do not let him touch anything
else!” he warned the older man.

“Oh,” Davis respectfully replied with a twinkle in his eyes. “I hardly think
he will have any sort of interest in anything else, My Lord.”

“Yes, yes. I suppose you are right about him, Davis—as always.”

“Right about whom, may I ask?” Selina queried, her head tilted a little to
the side in curiosity. She frowned a little in confusion.

Davis bowed politely. “A lovely morning, Lady Selina.”

“It was until we got here,” she heard her friend mutter under her breath.

Andrew’s brows quickly snapped together. “I do not recall inviting you

here, Red.”
“Do you think I wanted to be here?”

“I invited her here,” Selina quickly interrupted, rushing in between her

brother and her best friend. “Julia is here to support me, Andrew. Do be
nice.”

“I am always nice!”

“Not,” Julia remarked acidly, “as much as you think.”

Before Andrew could eke out a scathing retort, Selina beamed her largest
smile at him in an effort to prevent another verbal war from erupting in
front of her. “What was that painting you left Davis with? I do not recall
seeing that before.”

“Oh, that.” Her brother shrugged. “Something I won from a card game. It
was once part of a collection at Durham House, so he’s been wanting to get
it for a while.” He flashed Selina a grin and winked. “I never thought that I
would ever have a bargaining chip against him, but I was rather lucky.”

“Him?” Selina looked up at him in confusion. “Him who?”

“You will see,” Andrew smiled mysteriously.

Julia just rolled her eyes. “Probably another of your brother’s gambling
friends.”

While he did go to White’s regularly, Selina knew her brother was nothing
like the other gentlemen who routinely lost large sums of money or the
occasional heirloom within its exclusive walls.

However, she also had no idea just who might be interested in that painting.
Durham House, though…it sounded familiar to her.

Nonetheless, she tamped down the niggling feeling in her heart. Today was
the day Andrew was leaving for business. He would be gone for a rather
long time, and she did not want to spoil their parting by pursuing the matter.

“Well, we came to see you off,” she said gently, her eyes beginning to mist
a little. “I do wish you well on your travels, but I am truly going to miss you
terribly.”

Andrew smiled softly at her and patted her head the way he used to do
when she was a small child.

“Come now, you must not send me off with your tears, or I will never be
able to leave,” he coaxed her. “Besides, I am not going to leave you on your
own.”
“What tears?” she choked, half-laughing. “And what do you mean that you
are not going to leave me on my own?”

That feeling from before returned, but this time it was stronger.

“You will see,” he replied with a mysterious smile. “In fact, he should be
here in a matter of moments.”

“He?” she echoed in disbelief. “Do you have a traveling companion with
you?”

Selina was at a loss for words, but that hardly mattered as the front door
chose that very precise moment to open. Her mouth widened in surprise as
she took in the tall, sinfully handsome man who walked in with a casually
arrogant stride as if he owned the place.

It was he. The Duke of Barrington.

I still cannot believe Andrew means to leave me in this man’s hands! Selina
wanted to scream. And what is he doing here, anyway?

Although their strained relationship was nothing like that of Andrew and
Julia’s, her brother could not have chosen a worse person to leave her with.
Why, it would have been infinitely better if he had left her on her own!
“His Grace will be staying here in Rowley House for the meantime,”
Andrew explained. “It is much closer than Barrington Estate.”

Selina’s eyes widened. “What!?”

“Ah, this is getting interesting,” she heard Julia snicker from behind her.
“And I, for one, would welcome this…intrusion.”

The Duke did not even deign to acknowledge her.

“I do not need him to watch over me!” Selina declared rather loudly and
then turned to the Duke, “And certainly not this closely!”

To which, the Duke only shot her a cursory glance. “If you behave yourself
well, then we will not have much of a problem.”

What did he mean by that? Her behavior was impeccable by Society’s

standards!

Besides, why should he be the one to watch her, given his reputation. If she
was not assured of her brother’s affection for her, she would have thought
he was trying to sabotage her instead!

“I know what you are thinking,” her brother told her in a gentle tone as if he
was trying to reassure a child or a skittish colt. “But I trust William with my
life. He will take care of you, and all you need to do is enjoy the rest of the
Season, all right?”

“Is he going to stay out of my way, then?” she shot back at her brother
while leveling an incensed glare at the Duke.

“I do not like repeating myself,” he told her in a cool voice that still
somehow managed to send shivers running down her spine. “But again, as
long as you behave yourself, My Lady, then we need not bother with each
other at all.”

Selina looked at her brother in despair but found him to be implacable in

the matter. It would seem that she was doomed to spend the rest of the
Season with this cold, unfeeling man.

As her heart began sinking to the bottom of her feet, she could vaguely hear
Julia chuckling.

“This is going to be so much fun!”

Her best friend, she knew, could not be more horribly wrong.

William was not blind—he could sense the sheer despair emanating from
Selina Walford at the prospect of being forced to spend the rest of the year
with him. It was hardly unexpected.
After all, he had known her since she was a child, and they could not have
been any more different.

Although the Marquess and Marchioness of Trowbridge hardly paid her any
attention, choosing to focus their efforts on their son and heir, Andrew had
never neglected his sister. In fact, he had probably compensated for both of
their parents. They might bicker a lot, but their relationship as siblings truly
was a rarity in the Ton.

In turn, Selina had grown up to be the sort of unique young woman in the
Ton. She was neither a vapid, simpering creature intent on capturing a
husband, nor was she as bold and provocative as Lady Julia Lewis was.

If he could describe her, she was like the afternoon sunlight—soft, warm,
and yet blinding in her own way.

There were times when he looked at her, and he could see glimpses of how
she was rather mature for her age. As if she had seen all the darkness in the
world and still chose to believe in the light.

He shook his head inwardly at that. Andrew was right—people like Selina
needed to be protected because they could hardly be expected to protect
themselves.
Not when they naively chose to trust in the goodness of the world and
people in general.

He was going to regret this. He knew it as surely as he felt the sense of

impending doom snaking around him, threatening to cloud his vision…

Why did he ever agree to this in the first place? He had no business
protecting anyone.

Not when he could not even protect those who were dearest to him.

William clenched his hands into fists behind him, affecting as casual an air
as he could muster as he glanced coolly at the young lady who was glaring
at him with all the ferocity of a disgruntled kitten.

The sight pierced through the dark clouds that were crowding his vision,
and he could not help but smile a little before he stopped himself.

No, Selina Walford was something he could not afford to be distracted by.

Just one year, he reminded himself. One year, and then I can wash my
hands clean of any responsibility for Selina Walford.

“I suppose that you will be staying more often in London, Your Grace,” she
said, looking defeated and yet winsome at the same time. What a
contradiction she was!

“I will be taking up residence in Rowley House for the time being,” he

informed her coolly.

Selina looked like she had suffered a physical blow at the revelation.
“Rowley House? You mean that you will be staying here? In the residence
right next to mine?” She looked at her brother. “You did not say anything
about him staying here.”

“Actually,” Andrew interjected. “He will be—”

But William shot his best friend a particularly sharp glare. To his credit,
Andrew did not pursue that particular topic.

If it was possible, her shoulders slumped even lower. “We shall be

neighbors then.”

He could not help the small smile that quirked at the corner of his lips.
“Yes, Lady Selina,” he drawled. “We shall be neighbors.”

“Lovely!” Lady Julia clapped her hands in glee. “If so, would you mind if
we called on you, Your Grace? You know, for afternoon tea or other such
neighborly things.”
William pretended to not hear her. The last thing he needed was a gaggle of
young women invading his peace.

Not that he had had any peace in the last twenty years.

“I…do not think that would be necessary,” Selina said stiffly, looking him
in the eye. He acknowledged her with a slight nod.

They did not really need to like each other. They could just coexist until her
brother came back.

“In that case, everything is settled then!” Andrew declared happily, clapping
a hand on his back. “I truly appreciate it, William. When I return from my
trip, I shall bring you—well, whatever it is you want!”

William pressed his lips into a thin line. “The painting,” he said hoarsely. “I
just want the painting.”

Because she had been looking for it for years—the final piece missing in
the grand collection of Durham House, lost for decades when some spoiled
ancestor squandered it on a gamble.

Now, he could put it back to where it belonged. In Durham House.

“You can have the painting!” his friend grinned. “In fact, you can have
another one, if you want. Lord Langley lost a Botticelli to me just last
week…”

“No,” William told him quickly. “Keep the rest. I just want that one.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Selina look at him, her brows
drawn together in confusion. He could see the question in her eyes that
never reached her cherry lips.

She would never understand, and he would never share it with her.

His darkness was his own. He would be ashamed for any of it to taint her
light.

One year, he told himself. Just one year.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 5

I t was three days later when word finally got out that the Duke of
Barrington had moved into Barrington Estate. No sooner had that
delectable piece of news made its rounds in the Ton then Society itself
erupted into a frenzy.

After all, what other reason could compel a highly eligible bachelor to
move into London except to look for a wife?

With this in mind, it was no surprise that within the span of two days,
requests for hats and lace gloves and dresses exploded, and more and more
people began flocking to Hyde Park, hoping to chance upon the reclusive
Duke. For two days already, whole park was littered with colorful parasols
and feminine chatter filled the air.

“They truly believe that he is here to find a wife?” Selina muttered in

disbelief. “And if they truly believed that, why would they think they would
find him in the Park of all places?”
“Well, my dear, the Park is where everyone in the Ton gathers to
‘coincidentally’ meet someone, if you know what I mean.” Julia waggled
her eyebrows at her friend. “You cannot fault them for trying everything in
the book in the hopes of becoming a Duchess.”

Except that there was no possible book that could map out the complexity
of His Grace, the Duke of Barrington.

“It does not mean they will find him here, though. I would have thought he
was averse to sunlight if I had not seen him out in broad daylight myself.”

“Are you implying that His Grace is a vampire?”

“He certainly is as cold-blooded as one,” Selina shuddered.

“And just as tantalizing, might I add,” her friend added mischievously.

“Such creatures of darkness are said to be quite seductive, you know?”

Oh, his looks are that, she admitted to herself with a flush as she thought of
the Duke of Barrington and his perfect visage. The thought of those sensual
lips on her neck, inducing both pain and pleasure…

“No, thank you,” she replied hastily. “I very much enjoy walking in the
sunlight.”
“Well, there are certainly many things that can be enjoyed after dark, if you
know what I mean,” Julia laughed. “And who better than His Grace to
enjoy them with? He does have a marvelous reputation when it comes to
that.”

That was something gently bred young ladies like themselves should not be
having conversations about. It was a subject that their mothers and duennas
would never consider broaching until they were maybe a few minutes away
from saying their wedding vows.

But Julia was quite possibly the most brazen young lady in the Ton—to
those she cared enough to be brazen with, anyway—and she had no such
qualms discussing them with Selina at all.

It was just that Julia’s words brought unbidden images to rise up in Selina’s
mind. Indeed, what would it feel like to know the Duke so intimately, to
have him touch her and kiss her…

Devour her until she burned and left nothing but ashes in her wake.

No sooner had that thought crossed her mind then she immediately warded
it off. Why would she be thinking of the man in such a way?

Am I now so depraved that I could think of him in such a scandalous

manner? Selina pondered. Still, she could feel the warmth suffusing her
cheeks although that might just be the summer sun…
“Speaking of His Grace, did your idiot brother not leave you in his care?”
Julia mused. “I would not put it past him to be watching your every move. I
have it on good authority that he is a very thorough person.”

No doubt about it.

Selina shook her head and pursed her lips. “I do not have to inform Andrew
of my every movement. I do not see why His Grace should require that of
me.”

“Well, you did hear what he said to you back at Rowley House.” Julia
placed her hands on her hips and began speaking in a deeper voice, “As
long as you behave yourself, then we need not bother with each other at
all.”

“Stop it!” Selina chided her before bursting in a fit of giggles. “My
behavior is beyond reproach, thank you very much.”

“Then, maybe that is why he is not around here, sneaking around and
keeping an eye out on you.” The redheaded young lady paused and then
added, “Although maybe you should toe the line a bit. A lot of people are
quite disappointed that he has not bothered to show up ever since he moved
into Rowley House.”

“Well, they can be disappointed a little bit more,” she responded firmly.
Somehow, she did not relish the idea of a whole gaggle of young women
ogling the Duke of Barrington and casting their sights on him. The very
thought of it sent her stomach roiling angrily.

Besides, these young ladies should be thanking her for being on her best
behavior and sparing them all from the cold and forbidding presence of the
Duke. They did not know yet just how unlikable he could be! Half of them
often ended up walking away from him in tears, but did that deter them?
No!

But what if…

An idea sparked in her head—something so simple and yet outrageous that

she wondered why she did not think of it in the first place!

Back in Trowbridge Estate, Selina peered into her book, trying to make
sense of the passage she had been attempting to read for the past twenty
minutes before she heaved a sigh and accepted the fact that she was quite
thoroughly distracted.

She cast her glance in the direction of Rowley House where she knew the
Duke was currently residing.

She never did understand why he refused to stay in London when it was
much easier to conduct his business here in the city. In the two years of her
Season, she had never heard him take up residency in Barrington Estate,
which was the London residence of his father and all the other Dukes of
Barrington before him.

But then again, who was she to question his judgment? His Grace was
known amongst the Ton for his impeccable business acumen. In fact, most
gentlemen would be honored to have shared business ventures with him as
the man was quite gifted in making money—lots of it.

It matters not now. He is currently my neighbor, she sighed to herself.

As much as she disliked the idea of the Duke standing in for Andrew, it did
not sit well with her to be at odds with him. If they were to get along for the
year ahead, then they had to agree on some sort of a truce.

And for such a truce to happen, they had to meet. Sort of.

Selina cast her gaze in the direction of Rowley House. It was unbecoming
for a young lady to visit the residence of a gentleman, but then again, that
was her brother’s house. Besides, she would not be totally unaccompanied
—she could bring her maid, Jeanne, with her.

Yes, that would be the most prudent thing to do. We must have this
discussion, or I shall never have peace for the rest of the Season, and that
simply will not do!
Why, oh why, did she have to have such an overprotective brother in the
first place Was it fate compensating for her parents not paying her any mind
at all?

“Calm down, Selina, and be brave,” she murmured to herself, closing her
eyes. “It is just His Grace, William.”

She had heard Andrew refer to the Duke by his first name so many times,
by virtue of their friendship, but she had never referred to him as such.
Maybe if she used it, she would not have to be so apprehensive at the
prospect of talking to him?

Why was she so anxious, anyway?

It is best to do it quickly and be done with it, she told herself. After all, he
surely cannot be that unreasonable…

Taking a deep breath, she opened her eyes and called for Jeanne.

The short trip from Trowbridge Estate to Rowley House could be covered
on foot, but Selina decided that a carriage would be the best way to go
about it. It would make it less likely for her to change her mind and turn
back around if she lost her nerve.
Besides, it would be rather unseemly for her to be seen knocking on the
residence of a gentleman—a Duke, no less—with no one else but her maid
in tow.

All the ladies who wish to marry him would descend upon me in an instant,
she thought in amused horror. Women can be quite merciless to their fellow
women…and His Grace certainly does not lack for admirers.

Of admirers, he certainly had aplenty, and if they ever caught wind of the
arrangement between him and Andrew, they would most likely take their ire
out on Selina, who only wished to spend the rest of her Season in peace.

Maybe even find a nice, suitable match that her parents—and Andrew—
would approve of.

But then again, after that entire debacle with Lord Vermont, she would
prefer not to jump into another courtship so soon…

As her thoughts wandered off, the carriage came to a gentle stop at the front
door of Rowley House.

“We’ve arrived, My Lady.”

Selina gently shook off her thoughts and smiled at her maid. “It seems we
have.”
Jeanne disembarked first and helped her off the carriage. Inwardly, Selina
prayed that her maid did not notice the tremors in her hand or the
unsteadiness in her knees.

It is just His Grace, she told herself. You have seen him countless times
already. He is your brother’s closest friend—even if he is cold, aloof, and
brutal at times.

She wrinkled her nose. All right. Scratch that—he is brutal all the time.

“Welcome back to Rowley House, Lady Selina,” Davis greeted her. “His
Grace is waiting for you in the garden.”

She blinked. “In the garden?”

“Yes, My Lady. In the garden.”

Was that her imagination or did Davis actually have a glint of amusement in
his eyes?

Suddenly, her lips quirked up when she remembered her conversation with
Julia the day before when she compared the Duke to a vampire.

Almost as soon as that thought came up, another one came snapping at its
heels—one of his large hands spanning her ribcage, holding her close to
him as his lips descended to the side of her neck to gently suck on her
sensitive skin…

She shook her head and gave her brother’s loyal butler a tremulous smile.
“In that case, I shall trouble you to lead the way, Davis.”

“It would be my pleasure, My Lady.”

She followed the butler through the front door and then out into the back
where the gardens were with Jeanne trailing quietly from behind her.

Selina frowned when she noted that Rowley House appeared rather…bare.
Andrew himself had not been overly fond of frivolous decor, but there was
still the odd painting and such adorning the walls when he lived here.

What in the world?

“His Grace is not too fond of decorations,” Davis smiled with some
amusement.

“I see.”

But she did not. Not really.

The entire house had been stripped of all sorts of decoration, leaving bare
walls. It was almost as if a whole gang of thieves had swept in and robbed
the place.

Or like nobody lived there.

“Right this way, My Lady. His Grace is waiting for you up ahead.”

“Ah…thank you, Davis,” she murmured.

Selina picked her way through the stone pathway towards a gazebo where a
table had been set up with a tea set. She could see delicate tendrils rising
from one of the cups. An assortment of scones and pastries had also been
prepared.

Sitting back on one of the chairs was the Duke himself, dressed rather
casually in a white shirt, a simple coat, and form-fitting breeches that
showcased his muscular legs. When he saw her, he did not even greet her,
merely rising to pull a chair out for her.

At least his manners are still there, Selina thought to herself.

“Umm…Good afternoon, Your Grace,” she began, looking down. “I hope I

am not intruding on you.”
“If you were, would you still have come?”

Her gaze snapped up to him, and she frowned. “Well, there are some
pertinent things I wish to discuss with you, so yes. Eventually.”

“Pertinent things.” His voice was tinged with amusement. “Like my

arrangement with your brother.”

She nodded. “Precisely.” She nervously poured herself a cup of tea and
nearly scalded her tongue when she drank it too quickly. “I would like to
call a…truce, if you will.”

A dark eyebrow rose up in query. “I was not aware that we were at war,
Lady Selina.”

She flushed. “Well, not exactly. But you must know that I was not in
agreement with your, ah, agreement with my brother.”

He said nothing, so she decided to continue. “I was hoping that we would

not make things difficult for each other, Your Grace.”

He leaned back on his chair, his lips quirking up. Selina blinked at him. Was
he…smiling at her?

Does he find this entertaining?

“I am not in the habit of making things difficult for myself either, My
Lady,” he told her, his voice rich and dark as fine chocolate. Or sin. “But
you will find that I am not as biddable as your brother.”

“I expected as much,” she replied wryly. “And I would not want to bid you
do anything at all.”

“Except leave you to your own devices?”

She nodded her head enthusiastically. “We shall stay out of each other’s
way.”

“As long as you do not unnecessarily endanger yourself, then there is no

need for me to step in.”

“What danger could I possibly be in?” Selina wanted to roll her eyes.

His eyes darkened. “You have no idea, My Lady, and it is best that it
remains that way until your brother returns.”

For a moment, there was a haunted quality to his eyes, almost as if he was
seeing horrors that she could never imagine, and then just as quickly, it was
gone, and he was once more the cold and aloof Duke of Barrington.
“All right,” she managed to squeak out. “I shall keep out of danger and out
of your way. You shall do the same for me.”

“Good.”

The word came out softly as if drawn out from his chest in a gentle rumble
to trail softly down her spine. Underneath the table, Selina clenched her
fists into her skirts, wondering just what was wrong with her and why this
man had such a strange effect on her. Even Lord Vermont had not managed
to coax such strange reactions from her.

It was probably for the best that she stayed out of this man’s way, but for
some reason, she felt all the more drawn to him.

Like a moth to a flame.

And like that moth, she had the distinct feeling that drawing too close to the
Duke would burn her into ashes and dust.

And yet, she had never felt more alive than when she was with him.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 6

H e had no idea why he ever decided to accept her card and have
afternoon tea with her. William never had afternoon tea with
anybody as he deemed the entire thing a frivolity.

And most certainly not in a garden because that was the height of frivolity
indeed.

But Selina was not meant for the stuffy salon, and as he sat in the gazebo,
listening to her cheerful voice, he found that it was not such a bad idea after
all. Maybe he even ought to invite her more often for tea…

His brows snapped together at the direction of his thoughts. Or maybe not.

“Your Grace? Is something amiss?” Soft brown eyes peered up at him,

concern gleaming in their depths.
William nearly laughed to himself at that. Concern—it had been so long
since someone had looked at him so, and that was because there was very
little reason to be worried for him.

From his childhood, he had only ever striven to toughen himself, to harden
himself against the world and whatever it would throw at him. There were
many who would call him capable and many more who would call him
ruthless.

He had to be—otherwise, he would not have survived as long as he did.

Because for as many looked at him in awe, he was certain there were a
great deal more who probably wished him dead.

But here she was now, looking at him with such genuine concern, and for
the life of him, he could not bring himself to tell her just how harsh and
cruel the world could be. That it would only mercilessly crush a heart as
soft as hers.

Instead, he allowed himself to bask in that warmth for however long it may
last.

“No,” he said instead. “Nothing is wrong. I just remembered something.”

“Ah.” She did not look quite convinced, but to her credit, she did not push
the matter further. It would seem that she was more perceptive than he
initially thought.
However, he found that he disliked how her previously bright smile had
shuttered as if the sun had just suddenly decided to set.

“I think I might have overstayed my welcome,” she said softly. “It is getting
dark.”

“I shall see you home.”

She shook her head. “There is no need, Your Grace. I do live just next
door.”

“To the front door then, at least.”

She inclined her head as if she was the one granting him the favor. “Very
well, then.”

They both refrained from any more idle conversation as he walked her to
the front door. Davis, who had already anticipated that it was getting dark,
had gotten her carriage ready for her.

Before she left, she turned to him nodded politely. “Thank you for having
me today, Your Grace.”

Her voice had gone a little stiff, and he felt irked by it somewhat.
“It was my pleasure, Lady Selina.”

“I shall see you around then,” she smiled a little. “Now that we are
neighbors.”

As she turned and walked out to where a footman was holding the carriage
door open for her, he could not help but smile a little at that.

Oh, she was indeed going to be seeing more of him around. He just was not
sure yet if she would be pleased about it, though.

“By the way, Your Grace, Lord Gillingham has sent word that he will be
visiting you tonight,” Davis informed him.

Lord Gillingham was none other than Duncan Gillingham, his father’s
younger brother. After the death of both his parents, he had emerged from
his isolation in Scotland to step up as William’s guardian, even when the
Court of Chancery wished to appoint another to fill in that role, seeing as
Lord Gillingham stood a lot to gain with his nephew under his wing.

However, when William was fourteen, he reinforced his uncle’s role in his
life by choosing him as his guardian.

Lord Gillingham was his only remaining family, and although he was not as
adept as his nephew at handling the vast estates and wealth that came with
the title of the Duke of Barrington, he did his best and was able to keep the
businesses and the estates up until William came of age.

After all that, he started to pull back and liked to tell William that he was
going to enjoy the life of a country gentleman although he remained a
permanent fixture in William’s life and regularly visited him at any of his
estates.

“Did he say what time he means to do so?”

The butler shook his head. “He only said to expect him after dinner for
cigars and brandy.”

William smiled inwardly at that. His uncle did not drink alcohol—not after
the death of William’s parents—but he did enjoy a fine cigar.

“See to it that the drawing is prepared to receive him,” he instructed Davis.

“As you wish, Your Grace.”

“And Davis?”

“Yes, Your Grace?”

“You do know people from Trowbridge Estate, do you not?”

If Davis found this question intrusive, he showed none of it on his face and
maintained a neutral visage.

“I do so, Your Grace.”

“Good. Let me know what balls and events Lady Selina has been invited to
and the ones she means to attend.”

When the butler did not even appear surprised, he realized that Andrew
might have done the same thing in the past. Lady Selina had the tendency to
be headstrong, and she probably chafed at her brother’s overprotective
tendencies.

“Shall I send for someone to keep an eye out for the Lady, Your Grace?”

William shook his head. “No need, Davis. Just let my valet and coachman
know the events she means to attend and have them prepare.”

Lady Selina was going to find that William was not about to take any
chances, either.

If she felt that she was going to be perfectly fine on her own without her
brother watching over her from the background, then she undoubtedly
needed more protection than she thought.

His uncle arrived at a quarter past nine and was promptly led into the salon
by Davis.

“Never thought I would see the day when you would finally take your place
in London,” Lord Gillingham remarked as he eased into the chair opposite
him. His eyes gleamed when William offered him a box of the finest cigars.
“This residence of yours, though…it is too small.”

“It is perfectly adequate for my needs,” William replied easily as he poured

himself a glass of brandy.

“But your own estate—”

“Is much too large for me,” he interrupted. His cold tone brooked no
argument, and Lord Gillingham knew his nephew well enough to know that
there were some boundaries that even he could not push.

So, he sat back and lit his cigar instead. Unlike William’s father, his uncle
had developed a rather portly figure as he aged, and his fascination with
cigars had left a stain on his teeth.

William, though, took after his father more although his uncle frequently
remarked that he had his mother’s eyes.
He doubted if his mother had ever glared so coldly at anybody. He might
never look at a portrait of her, but he had always remembered her to be a
kind yet strong woman. She might not even agree with a great many of the
things he ended up doing.

But what does it matter? William always told himself. She is already gone,
and I am left alone in this world to deal with the aftermath.

The world might have forgotten what had happened to his family on that
fateful night, but he never would.

His uncle, although rough around the edges, probably felt the same way as
William did. He had lost his brother so suddenly, and the massive
responsibility of his heir and estates were thrust upon him without warning.

Lord Gillingham did rather well for himself under the circumstances.

“Are there any recent developments?” he asked quietly.

“I received word from my informants that they have picked up the trail of
one of the men who came that night,” William replied. “After that, it is only
a matter of moving things in the right place and setting everything in
motion.”
His uncle nodded. “Finally, they can be at peace.”

Peace. William wanted to scoff at that. When he finally brought to justice

the criminals responsible for the death of his parents, they might both be
able to rest in peace.

But peace was a long time coming for their son, who had to live with the
horrific memory of his parents being murdered in front of his eyes while he
hid in the damned wardrobe.

There were nights when he laid awake in his bed, wondering if he should
have just burst open the wardrobe and attacked those men, distracted them
long enough for his father to overpower them and save his mother…

But he knew it was all futile. They had come prepared, planned their attack
down to the finest details.

It was only his mother’s quick thinking that saved him. If it had not been for
her, he would have perished along with his parents.

Now, he must live so her sacrifice might not be in vain. He must carry on if
only long enough to exact the justice he had been craving for twenty years
since that fateful night.

“Perhaps it is time for you to find peace of your own, my boy.” His uncle
puffed at his cigar. “Your parents would have wanted that for you.”
“We will never know what they wanted, Uncle,” he replied a little too
harshly.

Lord Gillingham paused, and William watched as the end of his cigar
glowed a brilliant orange once more. “Perhaps.”

There was a note of hurt in his uncle’s voice, but William did not apologize,
and he knew that his uncle was not expecting one anyway.

“They would have been proud of you.”

I highly doubt it, he scoffed mentally. His mother had urged him to be
brave, kind, and wise, extolling the very virtues that made her fall in love
with his father.

But what good were virtues against schemes and bullets? What good was
kindness in the face of cruelty?

His mother might not approve of many things he had done, the ways he had
climbed to the top…all so that he may one day exact his revenge on the
ones who destroyed his family.

But unbeknown to his uncle, he did not intend to stop there.

No, he meant to ferret out who the true mastermind was behind the murder
of the Duke and Duchess of Barrington because as much as investigations
claimed that the criminals had intended to rob them, he knew better.

To call the murder of his parents a mere robbery was an insult to their
memory.

“Well, it is getting late,” Lord Gillingham sighed. “I only wished to see you
in your new residence.”

“I am no longer a child, Uncle.”

“Yes, and I am already an old man,” his uncle guffawed. “Do not forget
your parents, William, and once you have achieved what you set out to do, I
hope you can start to live for yourself.”

He doubted if he would ever find a purpose in this life beyond his

vengeance, but he did not want his uncle to worry about him. Lord
Gillingham was no longer a young man, and his health was not as good as it
used to be.

Instead, William nodded his head and made a noncommittal sound. A

promise, but not really.

William never made promises he did not intend to keep.

Later that night after Lord Gillingham had left, Davis knocked lightly on his
study and handed him a piece of paper. On it were all the events that Lady
Selina had been invited to as well as those she had expressed the intention
to attend.

There was also a list of names of several gentlemen.

“I took the liberty of adding in the men who have expressed a keen interest
in Lady Selina, Your Grace,” the butler clarified. “In case you might find
this to be pertinent information.”

And indeed, it was rather pertinent. Lord Vermont’s name was still on the
list as well as that of elderly Lord Caraway, who was much too old to prop
himself up on his own two feet.

William frowned when he saw a couple of gentlemen on the list who, in his
opinion, had no business being in the vicinity of any young lady who
wished to maintain her good reputation.

“Her admirers are rather…diverse,” Davis said with a small smile.

Diverse? That was certainly a mild way of putting things!

He quickly finished scanning the report and tucked it away in his pocket.
Tomorrow, she would be going out with the daughters of the Earl of Powell
to promenade about in Hyde Park. No doubt, those dogs would be in
attendance, salivating over her like she was a piece of steak.

Well, he would like to see them try to do so in his presence. Maybe then, he
would find out how many men in London truly valued their eyesight and
how many would rather lose that sense.

“You have done a wonderful job, Davis.”

“Thank you, Your Grace. In anticipation for the Lady’s activities tomorrow,
I have also informed the stables of your intention to visit the Park.”

“Thank you. Did you inform them that I might be needing my pistol as
well?”

“I beg your pardon, Your Grace?”

William shook his head. “Never mind. You have done enough. More than
enough. Thank you. You may go.”

As soon as Davis left the study, William drew out the paper from his pocket
once more, shaking his head. How the hell did Andrew manage to fend the
lot of them off without resorting to bloody murder?
OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 7

S elina was rather pleased with herself for managing to survive her
encounter with the Duke yesterday and even wrangling a promise
from him that they would mutually stay out of each other’s way.
Surprisingly, he had been quite easy to talk to.

Or was it too easy? She frowned. He would not go back on his word—a
gentleman should never go back on his word.

“Should” being the operating word, but she was not an imbecile to expect
all gentlemen to adhere to their promises. Case in point was Lord Vermont,
whose outward appearance hardly hinted at his depravity.

But the Duke was not Lord Vermont, and as much as she disliked him at
first, she was not about to do him a disservice by lumping him in with the
same category of men that included her previous suitor. No, she was feeling
much more charitable towards him today.

“Selina! Oh, Selina, you look exceptionally pretty today!” Julia greeted her
in her usual exuberant manner.
“Well, you are looking rather radiant yourself,” she laughed.

For that morning, Julia had chosen an olive-green dress that brought out her
vivid coloring. She had never known her friend to shy away from bolder
colors, even when lighter colors were all the rage in the Ton.

“She ought to, considering she spent an ungodly amount of time before the
mirror,” her sister complained with a smile. “But you do look rather lovely
today, Selina.”

“Thank you, Mary. You look wonderful today as well.”

The younger Lewis sister blushed. “Thank you, Selina, but unlike my sister,
you need not flatter me so much. Heaven help us all if we are one word
short of extolling her fine features!”

The ladies burst out in good-natured laughter as they made their way down
the tree-lined paths of the Park. It was a beautiful sunny day, and the foliage
provided ample amounts of cool shade so that the promenaders need not be
unnecessarily burned by the sun for daring to engage in such a social
activity.

“The Park is rather full of people today,” Mary remarked. “I cannot recall
seeing so many promenaders at one time, except at a festival of some sort.”
“It is to be expected, what with an unmarried Duke currently taking up
residence in London,” her sister replied easily. She slid her glance towards
Selina. “I, for one, would like to see what would happen if he were to grace
us with his presence.”

“We would be swamped, Julia. Swamped, I say.”

As the two sisters discussed the hazards should the Duke of Barrington
truly show up at a public place like Hyde Park, Selina merely smiled a little
to herself.

“He is not going to show up. You know how he is—he disdains such
things,” she brushed off her friends. “We know that he would rather keep
himself and do—” she waved her hand in a dismissive manner. “—
whatever it is that Dukes do, which is business, of course—”

“Ah. Of course.”

Mary looked a little confused at her rambling while Julia simply stared in
the direction of a patch of trees a little way off from the paved walkway.

Selina frowned. “Is something the matter?”

“Well, do not look now, but we may be able to test our hypotheses as to
what is most likely to happen if His Grace does decide to come to Hyde
Park.” She tilted her head and grinned at them. “Because he is currently
here at Hyde Park.”

“Stop it, Julia,” Selina giggled. “Nobody is going to fall for that. And why
would His Grace—”

“Um…he really is there, Selina. His Grace is here at Hyde Park.”

Selina stilled, her heart beginning to beat loudly in her chest. He cannot be
here. Did he not say that he would stay out of my way?

Mary had always spoken in a much softer voice compared to the both of
them, and right now, her words had all been drowned out by the loud
pounding resounding in Selina’s ears as she turned her gaze towards those
trees and found him, indeed, standing there.

He was dressed like any other gentleman out for a leisurely stroll in the
Park, but from first glance, it was already quite obvious that something set
him apart. It was not his title but in the very way he carried himself—cold
and aloof as if the entire world was beneath him.

He caught Selina’s eyes, and his lips quirked into an imperceptible line.

Except that she did not feel like smiling at the sight of him.
No, she felt heated and flushed and all sorts of furious! What was he doing
out at Hyde Park?

“Excuse me. I need to have a word with His Grace,” she bit out angrily.
Before any of her friends could acknowledge her words, she stomped off in
his direction.

She did not care if she looked particularly ladylike or not—she had kept her
side of the bargain, and he had not.

“A good day to you, Lady Selina,” he greeted softly, his eyes taking her in
from her parasol down to the hems of her dress. “I trust that you are
enjoying your stroll?”

How dare he say that when it was quite plain to see that he had ruined a
perfectly good day?

“What are you doing here?” she demanded.

“Oh? I merely came out to enjoy such a lovely day…Hyde Park is a public
place, is it not?”

She glared at him. “You cannot possibly mean to tell me that you, of all
people, are out to enjoy the sunlight?”
“I was also trying to test if it would burn my skin,” he replied blandly.
“Apparently, it does not. Marvelous, isn’t it?”

He was making fun of her, and if she was not so furious with him, she
might have found it in herself to laugh at it. Who would have thought she
would see the day when His Grace, the Duke of Barrington, would make a
joke? She had long since thought that he was incapable of a wide range of
emotions.

“Whether you burn or not out in daylight means very little to me,” she
grumbled. “I thought we had an agreement to stay out of each other’s way.”

“Unless, of course, you put yourself at risk.”

Selina wanted to scream. If she thought Andrew was overbearing, he truly

had nothing on his best friend. The Duke was so overbearing that he was
bordering on downright lunacy!

“What possible risk could I be in at Hyde Park in broad daylight?”

His eyes shuttered for a moment before he calmly replied, “Look around
you, My Lady—I have already lost count of the number of men who have
followed you with their eyes.”

“Everybody looks at everyone at the Park!” she seethed. “Just because you
do not engage in such a social pastime does not mean that the rest of the
world cannot!”

“I do not happen to find it entertaining to watch young women like a

predator stalking their prey, and that, My Lady, is the difference.”

Something about the way he said that sent chills running down her spine.
His voice was low and dangerous, brooking no argument.

He also meant what he said.

But was the world truly as awful as he portrayed it to be?

Selina refused to believe it because to do so would be to forsake everything

that made it wonderful, and she refused to live such a life.

“Then, we are not the same, Your Grace,” she said acidly before turning
around on her heel to walk away from him.

Only to stumble and hurtle towards the grass-covered ground.

As he had expected of her, she truly believed in all that was good and
wonderful in the world. That was well and good, but the problem with Lady
Selina Walford was that she disregarded all that was vile about it as well.
Although he had been furious, he had meant what he said back there—how
long had he stood there, barely keeping himself from gouging out the eyes
of anyone who dared to look at her for more than five seconds. And bloody
damn, there had been a great number of them!

If this was what Andrew had to deal with on a daily basis, then he had not
given his best friend enough credit. It had barely been a week, but how
many times had William already contemplated committing murder and
bodily harm?

He had never met a woman as exasperating as Lady Selina Walford, and to

top it all off, he found that she could not be persuaded to do anything that
he suggested—at all!

The sheer audacity of that woman…

His train of thought was cut off by a surprised scream tearing through his
mind with the force of a hurricane. He instinctively reached out and pulled
her back in as his mind began to cloud with blood and smoke, the scent of
fear and desperation thick in the air.

It had been many years ago, and yet, it all still felt like it was only
yesterday.

“Your Grace…Your Grace, you can let go of me now.”

A soft voice…an even softer body pressed against his own…

William blinked, and once more, he found himself in the sunlit Park with
people milling about, dressed in gay colors, their cheerful chatter filling the
air where the haze of blood and misery had been.

Always the blood. He could never get away from the blood.

Except now.

Her breath came out in soft gasps, and he felt the urge to hold her closer, to
press himself into her, to sink into her warmth and lose himself in her.

Instead, he released her. She stumbled for a little, appearing a bit dazed,
before she regained her balance.

As calmly as he could, he raised an eyebrow at her. “If you cannot even be

trusted to walk on your own two feet, how can you be expected to fend off
your horde of admirers?”

“Horde of admirers?” she sputtered, looking up at him as if he had gone

certifiably insane.

Judging from his reaction to her close proximity earlier, he most probably
had, but he was not about to admit it to Lady Selina Walford.
“I do not have a horde of admirers. Maybe Lady Julia does, but I do not,”
she told him primly.

Lord Powell’s eldest daughter might be bolder and more eye-catching, but
William begged to differ. He had eyes, and he was a man—he was all too
aware of how the other men had looked at her, not at her friend.

He walked closer to her, and he watched with a humorless smile as she

backed up a step. His legs were longer, and he managed to reach her before
she could evade him.

Bowing close to her ear, he caught a whiff of her heady scent. A concoction
of desire if there ever was one.

“Go back home, Selina,” he murmured. “You do not want to find out what
happens if you anger me.”

She swallowed, and his gaze flickered heatedly to the column of her throat.

“I think…” she managed in a breathy voice that did devastating things to

his control. “I think that you are already a very, very angry man, Your
Grace. And you need not blame your issues on me.”
For a moment, he was quite surprised when she stepped away from him and
walked back to her friends with her back straight, her chin held high. A
light breeze wafted, and he watched mesmerized as the ribbons of her dress
danced and wrapped themselves around her figure—the very same thing his
own fingers had wanted to do just a few moments ago.

Lady Selina Walford was indeed trouble of the highest order and one who
was testing his restraints with every breath.

Selina shook her head and increased her pace as she strode back to where
her friends were waiting for her with worried looks on their faces.
Fortunately, they were too far away to see clearly what had transpired.

It did not mean that she forgot about it, though.

Under the bright sunlight, her body still burned in all the places where they
had touched, and for the life of her, she could not understand why her body
craved for more of the same.

This is why men and women must distance themselves from each other, she
told herself miserably.

But even with that realization, she could not help but long for more of his
touch, more of him. It was quite the predicament to be in.
However, to give in to her desires would mean nothing short of ruination,
for she knew full well just what kind of man the Duke of Barrington was.

He would be her ultimate devastation.

“What was that about?” Mary asked her with a worried frown when she
finally managed to return to them. “You look like…an interesting cross
between someone who has seen a ghost and someone considering making
one.”

Selina shook her head, still inwardly shaken from that brief moment of
contact. “You know how His Grace is. I cannot make him see sense.”

“Well, that is certainly interesting,” Julia smiled a little.

“What do you mean?”

“Tell me this, Selina—have you ever seen His Grace act the same way
around a different lady?”

Selina frowned at that. How was she supposed to know how he acted
around other ladies? He never seemed to appreciate their presence and was
known to scare even a significant amount of them to tears.
“Do you see what I mean?” the redhead grinned triumphantly. “He only acts
this way around you.”

“Are you implying that I am the problem?”

“No. On the contrary, it is because His Grace, the Duke of Barrington, has
feelings for you.”

Selina looked at her friend as if she had just gone stark raving mad and then
burst out in laughter. “This has one to be of the craziest things you have
ever said—and I have heard many crazy things over the years!”

However, this time, even Mary was thoughtfully silent, and when both
young ladies turned towards her, Mary softly said, “I think my sister has a
point—a rare one, but it does make sense.”

“Mary, you seriously cannot be agreeing to this?” Selina looked towards her
quieter friend with great surprise.

“Well, if you are quite certain that this is not the case,” Julia mused, “why
don’t we put this to the test?”

As she motioned for them to come closer to hear her plan, Selina highly
doubted that familiar twinkle in her friend’s eyes boded well for her.
The Duke of Barrington did not have feelings for her.

She did, however, admit to having very conflicting feelings towards him.

Dangerous feelings she would rather keep to herself for the moment.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 8

T he next three days, Selina chose to hole herself up in Trowbridge

Estate under the guise of finishing a new painting. It was a rather
sound alibi, she had to admit, as she stared at the canvas before her for the
third day in a row, completely at a loss as to what to even do with it.

It was quite rare for her to be so lacking in motivation as she had always
found herself to come truly alive when she was painting. This time,
however, the only emotions that the blank canvas evoked from her were
confusion and a sense of ambiguity.

This is getting rather out of hand, she thought as she wearily set her
paintbrush aside for the eighth time that morning.

Because the other alternative—which was to let her mind wander—was

quickly becoming a dangerous pastime.

A soft knock on her door prevented her mind from going down that dark
road leading to a certain tall, dark-haired man with a voice that sounded like
sin.
Fortunately, she heard nothing more from her high-handed neighbor in the
past three days as well. As to why that bothered her at all, Selina had no
answer to that.

Perhaps this is what he meant by me keeping myself out of trouble, she

thought to herself wryly. Does he honestly intend for me to become a
recluse for the entire Season?

In that case, the Duke was simply being unreasonable!

“My Lady?”

She inclined her head at her maid. “Yes, Jeanne?”

“Lady Julia sent word this morning.”

“Oh.” She had not seen her friend in her three days of seclusion. “What did
she say?”

“Lady Julia said that she will be coming by for afternoon tea,” the maid
replied politely. “And that you are forbidden from turning her and Lady
Mary Lewis away.”
Selina wrinkled her nose at that. As if there was any force on this earth that
could turn her formidable friend away. Julia Lewis was a force of nature,
and even the most dreadful hurricanes probably had to bow down to her.

“What shall I say in reply, My Lady?”

Selina smiled and wiped her clean hands on her apron. It was not like she
had anything else to amuse herself with today.

“Do tell her that I will be happily expecting her company, Jeanne. Thank
you.”

That afternoon, Julia swept into Trowbridge Estate in her usual fashion with
her sister in tow. Selina smiled at them from over a cup of tea as the
redhead cheerfully seated herself on an upholstered chair and helped herself
to a freshly baked scone, promptly slathering it with cream and raspberry
jam.

Selina’s lips curled into a smile when she saw that. “At this point, it is more
jam and cream than pastry,” she remarked teasingly.

Her friend glowered at her in good nature. “At least you are feeling well
enough to joke. Mary and I were worried that you have been wasting away
in your rooms.”
“You are being dramatic, as always.” Her more levelheaded sister shook her
head before turning to Selina with a worried look. “We were…a little
concerned about you, Selina.”

“We thought that His Grace had somehow imposed his will on you and kept
you from leaving the estate!” Her green eyes widened. “He did seem rather
angry that day at Hyde Park, did he not?”

“I would not know,” Selina muttered. “The only emotion I have ever seen
him display was mild displeasure.”

“It did not look like mild displeasure to me,” the redhead pointed out. “You
know, the Duke might be capable of a great deal more emotion than we
think.”

“I do not think I would care to find out.”

Julia grinned saucily at her. “Would you not? I think it would be a fun little
experiment to see how he reacts to certain things.”

“Oh no, not this again!” Selina groaned. “You cannot possibly mean to push
your agenda—”

“Apparently, my sister has very little in the way of self-preservation,” Mary

noted wryly.
“But even you agree with me that His Grace acts differently around Selina.”

“Yes, but that does not mean that I support your plan of poking the bear, so
to speak.” The younger Lewis sister shuddered. “Or more like, poking the
dragon.”

“Well, we are not going to deliberately poke him…”

Selina narrowed her eyes at her friend. “What do you mean by that?”

“Simple,” Julia smirked. “You just act as you always do, and we shall take
note of how His Grace reacts to you. I presume we might be able to judge
the range of emotions he is capable of in maybe two weeks.”

“What if that emotional range is more along the lines of displeasure to

fury?”

“But are you willing to live your life in seclusion until your idiot brother
returns?” her friend snorted delicately.

“Well, not exactly…”

Selina did not relish the thought of being on the Duke’s bad side. At the
same time, she would also like to live her life as much as she liked for
however long she could.
After all, a young lady was afforded the brief freedom of a handful of
Seasons before she would marry and have to acquiesce to the whims of her
husband—if she was unlucky. The fortunate ones enjoyed more leeway.

“So, what do you have in mind?” she sighed at her friend.

“The Oakridge ball is in four days. Just make sure you attend.”

Selina had been meaning to attend the Oakridge ball regardless. In fact, she
had already prepared the perfect dress for it.

And really, why should she let that obnoxious Duke dictate how she spent
her Season anyway?

“All right,” Selina grinned. “I shall attend the Oakridge ball!”

She just hoped that she would not regret it in the end.

William casually played with an ornate onyx carving of a panther, the

craftsmanship of which was so fine that it was as if the sculptor had
captured the beast just as it was about to pounce on its hapless prey.
And just like the panther, he was poised to strike at the one man who had
evaded his grasp for the past two decades.

It was no mean feat—he had to give him that. Ever since that fateful night,
William had painstakingly built the kind of network and connections that
infiltrated the realm all the way up to neighboring nations.

All in the name of capturing the vermin who had destroyed his family.

“Our men found him sneaking back into Scotland,” Orville reported. “We
have him in our sights, and we are just following him, seeing if he will lead
us to something else.”

William nodded. “Excellent.”

The man beamed at his praise, the horrific scar that ran down his left eye
standing out in stark relief. But William did not hire or dismiss men based
on their looks. If he did, he would lose half of those who worked under his
employ, and that simply would not do.

“Continue trailing him and see if you can get any more leads,” he instructed
coldly. “Make sure you do not lose him this time.”

“Understood, Your Grace.”

“Very well. You may go.”

Orville gave him a respectful bow before leaving, his footfalls making no
sound as he went.

William narrowed his eyes as his fingers clenched around the onyx panther.
Soon, he would have everything in his grasp, and just as he promised his
uncle, he would exact his own kind of justice on those responsible for this
parents’ murder…

Three polite knocks pierced through the thick veil of blood lust that had
started to fog his vision, and he frowned, turning to the door.

I thought I gave instructions not to be disturbed…

“Your Grace?”

It was Davis, the butler. He would not have come in if it was just for a
trifling matter.

“Come in.”

The butler shuffled in with a small smile. “I beg your pardon for my
intrusion, Your Grace, but I just received word from Trowbridge Estate.”
His frown deepened. He had not heard of anything unusual from Lady
Selina for the past three days, and he figured that she might have taken to
heart his warnings. He should have known better than to believe that
Andrew’s headstrong younger sister would ever take anyone’s—particularly
his—orders lying down.

“What is it, Davis?” He did not mean to sound so impatient, but with his
investigations coming so close, he could not help it.

“Lady Selina means to attend that Oakridge Ball, Your Grace.”

“The Oakridge Ball?”

“Yes, it will be held four days from today.”

Lord Oakridge was a pompous ass, and his lady wife was a pretentious and
stuck-up gossip. Their daughter, Lady Alice, was another entitled débutante
with the intelligence of a rock. However, their home, the Oakridge Pavilion,
was one of the most splendid residences in all of London, and they made
sure to rub it in everyone’s faces by holding a grand ball every Season.

Every year for more than half a decade, they would send out an invitation to
William, and he would humor the man with his attendance if only because it
allowed him to gain so many more connections. Beyond that, he found their
lavish parties mediocre in terms of entertainment.
“Shall I inform your valet, Your Grace?”

William nodded imperceptibly, and Davis made a sound of

acknowledgment before excusing himself from the study.

Once more, he was left alone to deal with his own thoughts.

The Oakridge ball was one of the biggest events every Season, and every
unmarried young lady and her mother would be in attendance in the name
of searching for a suitable match.

It also meant that there would be a great many men in attendance on the
lookout for a wife—or something else.

Like hell was he going to allow Lady Selina to head out there on her own.

And judging by the way she did not even send word to inform him of her
plans as he had initially instructed her to do, she had no plans of actually
coordinating with him.

She really was going out of her way to test his patience.

His mind flashed back to three days ago when she caught him following her
at Hyde Park. Her fury had been glorious—all flushed cheeks and a sensual
mouth that would have been much better suited for kissing than arguing.
And then, she had stumbled, and he had reached out for her before he could
think of anything else, and the feel of her in his arms was a torment that
would not go away. Her scent was a battle cry singing in his veins, a drug
that held him in the thrall of a fierce addiction.

He cursed as he felt the hardness in his breeches grow at the thought of her
naked and writhing beneath him, her soft cries a fuel for the fire that burned
within him. He had not been so aroused by any woman since he learned to
control his carnal desires in his youth.

Was she still a human or a siren who held him in her spell?

But William did not believe in mythical creatures and desires came and
went—it was all part of human nature.

As rigid as his self-control was, he was still a man, after all.

Maybe, though, if he kept well enough from her, it would fade away in
time. It always did.

For now, he would have to tamp his lust for her, push it to the back of his
mind—even if she was determined to tempt him in every way possible.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 9

W hen she was still a young child, Andrew told her that her name
was similar to that of the Greek goddess of the moon. Although
Selina highly doubted her mother was romantic enough to name her after a
goddess, she loved that thought.

And tonight, she was going to dress the part of that lunar goddess.

The dress she had chosen for the ball seemed as if it had been crafted out of
spun moonbeams, draping and flowing gracefully over her body as she
moved. The cap sleeves rested lightly on her shoulders, and from them, a
light cascade of shimmering beads twinkled as she moved.

Her hair had been done up in elaborate loops with pearls dotting the thick
dark locks like stars in the night sky.

She had on a light dusting of rouge on her cheeks—just enough to

emphasize their natural rosy glow without being tacky.
“Upon my word!” Julia exclaimed when she saw her coming down the
grand staircase and into the ballroom. “You, my dear, are a devastation to
the heart!”

Selina flushed a little. “Stop it. You’re being absurd—but thank you,
anyway. You look absolutely wonderful yourself, as always.”

“I know, right?” the redhead preened. “But truly, Selina—if His Grace does
not react to your dress tonight, then he must really not have a heart at all.”

“No need to be so theatrical. We are all friends here.” She rolled her eyes
playfully at her best friend.

“Yes, and that is the one thing that is keeping me from grabbing you by the
hair, actually,” Julia winked. “All the others are nearly insane with
jealousy.”

“It must be so refreshing to not be the object of their green-eyed stares,

sister dearest,” Mary remarked. She turned towards Selina with a bit of
worry in her eyes. “Although, I think that His Grace might react…
differently to your choice of dress tonight.”

“If he does not, then he must be made of stone!” Julia declared.

“That may not be too far off from the truth,” Selina mumbled, but then she
recalled the heated way which he sent her away at Hyde Park.
All right, she mentally conceded. Perhaps he was not totally made out of
stone.

His body, however, was as hard as a rock. Like Michelangelo’s David but
only more beautiful in a cold and brutal way.

Selina shook her head. What am I thinking? And right here in the middle of
a ball!

“Well, we shall not have to wait overlong,” Mary sighed. “It seems that His
Grace has decided to make an appearance tonight.”

Her words sent Selina’s heart hammering in her chest. She had not seen him
since that fateful day at Hyde Park. Had not trusted herself to meet with
him, even if he lived practically next door to her.

But now, he was here. In the same ballroom. Breathing the same air.

Suddenly, breathing was not such an easy and instinctive task anymore.

She tried her hardest to look away, but then her eyes moved to the top of the
staircase where the Duke was coming down, striding into the ballroom with
powerful, confident strides.
Well, she certainly could not, would not give him the satisfaction of
quailing before his presence the way many young ladies were wont to do.

Except Julia, maybe, but then again, her friend was possessed of an ungodly
amount of audacity.

Then, his eyes swiveled in her direction as if he could sense her exact
location. As her deep brown met his cold blue, she subtly raised her chin in
defiance.

For a brief moment, she swore she saw his eyes flash coldly. No doubt, he
was not used to a woman going against his specific directives.

Well, he is just going to have to get used to it because there is no way I am

going to allow him to order me around like one of his lackeys!

With a quirk of her lips and an eyebrow raised, she turned to her friends, her
back towards him.

“I do not know if you are being very brave or if my sister’s foolhardiness

has rubbed off on you,” Mary told her.

“I have to say, there was some tension there,” Julia fanned herself. “Don’t
you think so?”
Selina grimaced. “I would not know, honestly.”

But she did know—she had seen the way his eyes narrowed subtly at her in
warning. How he had silently communicated his displeasure.

Not that it meant anything to her. It should not mean anything to her.

But why did she feel the slightest thrill, knowing that he was displeased in
some way? That she had coaxed out something from him.

Or did she, really?

Only the Duke could ever really know for sure.

“You do not need to fret, dearest,” Mary quietly murmured into her ear. “I
shall stand by your side throughout the evening. He cannot possibly cause a
scene. Besides, we know that is not at all his manner of doing things.”

Selina smiled and nodded in relief at her friend’s unwavering support. “You
are right as always, Mary. Thank you very much.”

“Oh! No need to talk as if I am not in the vicinity!” Julia huffed. “Of

course, you can also count on me, Selina. Together, we shall all fend off His
Handsome Grumpiness!”
“His Handsome Grumpiness?”

“You have to admit that he does look exceedingly fine.” Julia waved her
fingers in a careless fashion. “But even then, I shall stand by your side,
Selina.”

Mary quirked her lips into a slight smile. “Oh, but you have promised Lord
Addison a dance, along with Sir Kenilworth, Lord Faraday…”

“All right, all right! So, I am going to be a little bit busy—but Selina is
quite important to me, too…” The redhead pouted, causing the other two
young ladies to burst into giggles behind their lace fans.

“No need to worry so much about me, dearest. Mary is right—he will not
attempt to cause a scene with so many eyes upon us.” Selina smiled and
nudged her friend in the general direction of the dance floor. “And we do
know that those feet of yours are already longing to move to the music.”

“You will be all right, though?”

Selina nodded. “Mary will be with me also. Really, there is no need for
worry.”

But even as she reassured Julia, she was aware of just how the Duke acted
—that is, he would inevitably find some way to get to her. He was sneaky
and devious and cunning like that.
Selina sighed inwardly. It was rather appalling how she actually found those
particular attributes absolutely thrilling.

Lady Selina Walford was quite the hellion. And determined to decimate
every shred of patience and self-control he ever held onto.

William clenched his hands into fists at his sides as he watched her flit
around the ballroom like a damned butterfly, cloaked in a fabric that gave
off a muted shimmer. Her hair had been piled up on top of her head in
decadent loops and swirls threaded through with seed pearls, exposing the
graceful column of her neck.

Right now, he could not decide whether he wanted to wrap his hands
around that same neck or taste her there—which meant that an
overwhelming majority of the male population in the room were probably
also thinking of the latter.

Unfortunately, not all of them would have the same restraint he did, and that
was something the headstrong young woman was naively unaware of.

Inwardly, he cursed Andrew for protecting his younger sister from the
sordid truth of the male mind to a certain degree. If she was possessed of
the same wiles as women of the faster set, she would have been wary of
attracting the attention of lascivious men hiding behind a thin veneer of
manners and etiquette.
But she was not, and her wide-eyed innocence that lurked beneath the
flames of her audacity was just as alluring as that of a more knowledgeable
female.

Lady Selina Walford needed protection, even if she so vehemently protested

against it. But who would protect her from him?

“Ah…there you are! I was beginning to wonder when you were going to
arrive.”

A female voice with sensual undertones crooned into his ear, disrupting the
disturbing direction of his thoughts. Smoothing his face into a neutral
expression, he turned around to find a young lady decked in ornate finery,
her shrewd blue eyes regarding him with unconcealed desire.

Lady Esther Stanton—the jewel in the palm of the Earl of Thorne and
young widow to the late Viscount of Stratford.

“My Lady, I was not under the impression that I had to report my
appearances to you,” he remarked drolly.

He saw something flash in her eyes and realized that he might have been
overly blunt with her, but what they had before was a dalliance he had no
intention of pursuing any further. He had made her aware of just as much.
“You wound me, Your Grace.” She traced her bottom lip with her tongue in
a subtle, seductive manner. “But we both know how we liked it like that.”

“Please do not disgrace yourself in public, Lady Stratford,” he told her

curtly, using the title of her deceased husband. “In a crush of people like
this, who knows who will hear you?”

Two spots of pink appeared on her cheeks, and she looked away from him.

A woman’s reputation determined her place in Society in addition to that of

her husband. Lady Esther had risen up with her marriage to the Viscount
and her spotless image as a lady.

He was merely reminding her that she could lose everything just as quickly
if she kept on chasing him in public.

“You had best return to your companions,” he urged her softly.

At that point, her eyes flashed coldly, and she raised her chin to him in
defiance. “I saw you earlier.”

He stiffened at her tone. “Saw me what?”

“Looking. At her.” She let out a mocking laugh. “You think that no one can
see it, but it is obvious to anyone with eyes, Your Grace.”
His lips twisted into a cruel smile. “So, what if you saw me, Lady Stratford?
What business is that of yours?”

He saw her balk at the underlying threat in his tone. Saw the undercurrent
of fear that flashed briefly in her eyes. Reveled in the knowledge that she
was aware of what he could do to her and her family if she made even the
slightest move that would displease him.

Satisfied, he turned to walk away from her when her next words stalled
him.

“She is nothing like you, Your Grace.” This time, Lady Esther’s voice was
plaintive. “You know what she is like.”

Nothing like you or me.

Untainted by darkness or twisted desires.

Like the soft afternoon sunlight on a clear summer’s day.

He clenched his hand into fists at his sides. “Again, I do not see how that is
any of your business, Lady Stratford. I hope you have a great night.”
He walked away from her, from the scalding truth in her words.

As much as his desire for Lady Selina Walford was growing uncontrollable
by the day, he had to remind himself that she was nothing like him and that
the things he did would probably scare her out of her wits.

Not to mention that she was also the younger sister of his best friend,
entrusted into his care.

How Andrew ever thought that he would make a good watchdog for his
sister was beyond him. William was not much of a guardian by any long
stretch of the imagination—he was more likely to destroy things than
protect them.

As his best friend, Andrew should have been well aware of that fact.

The sound of a silvery, feminine laugh drew him away from the tangle of
his thoughts. He frowned when he saw Selina from across the ballroom,
smiling and coquettishly swatting her fan at yet another dandy with an
obviously weak spine.

Lady Selina Walford was nothing but trouble, and he was a fool for even
considering chasing after her light.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 10

L ord Caldwell was one of the most eligible bachelors of the Season,
and it would seem that he was supremely aware of this fact. With one
of the finest estates in England and an impressive income, it was no wonder
that young ladies flocked towards him like twittering birds.

Selina, however, was not quite as impressed as the rest of the Ton, an
opinion that she shared with her friends after she had finished dancing with
him.

“So…” Julia waggled her eyebrows. “How was dancing with the dreamy
Lord Caldwell?”

“It honestly felt surreal…” Selina began.

“Surreal? In what sense?”

“In that all he could seem to talk about was himself, how wealthy he was,
and how his estate is the finest in all of England!” Selina burst out,
laughing. “Every young lady in this ballroom is well aware of these facts,
but he seemed to take a particular delight in rubbing them in my face!”

“What an absolute idiot!”

“They’re always made out to be the perfect gentlemen,” Mary muttered

under her breath, “but then, you soon find that their characters are sorely
deficient.”

“Indeed,” her sister agreed with an emphatic nod. “However, they do make
for rather great diversions.”

Selina raised an eyebrow at that. “Diversions?”

“From boredom,” Julia clarified.

Mary rolled her eyes. “You are always bored. You know that Mother would
rather you take the Season seriously for once and truly look out for a
suitable match.”

“Well…if we are truly being honest with ourselves, we are not exactly on
the lookout for a suitable match.” Selina smiled at her quiet friend. “We are
just…”
“Here to enjoy ourselves.” The redhead grinned at both of them saucily.
“Besides, if I was really going to be serious about finding my match, then
none of these fine London gentlemen would ever make the cut, and Mother
is well aware of that. Take Lord Henderson, for example.” She nudged her
chin in the direction of a handsome young lord with a head full of brown
hair. “Everyone is saying that he is a rather fine catch and how we suit each
other so much, but we both know that we would drive each other insane
within a fortnight.”

Julia Lewis, for all her faults, was an exceedingly self-aware young lady, in
addition to possessing the strongest opinion of all the marriageable young
ladies of the Season.

She was, however, right on point on this one, and it was a valid concern for
Lady Powell that her vivacious daughter might never truly find her match.

“It should not worry the Countess so much, seeing as I am yet to be

betrothed myself,” Selina offered.

“You would not believe the amount of pressure we got from Mother when
there was talk of your courtship with that…that…” Mary wrinkled her nose
in disgust.

Julia laughed. “Yes, but then she changed her mind about it as soon as she
realized what a horrible cad he was!”

“I am floored that Lady Powell apparently thinks me a suitable role model

for the both of you,” Selina muttered.
She knew that both of her friends refrained from saying Daniel’s name out
of consideration for her feelings, but honestly, she was not quite as affected
by the entire debacle herself.

Daniel had, indeed, presented himself as an upstanding young gentleman—

charming and considerate—but there had always been something about him
that made her uneasy. It was as if he was too perfect to the point of artifice.

And then, she was right.

Perfection, she scoffed inwardly. Now, who does that remind you of?

Her gaze unerringly swerved across the room to a certain tall, broad-
shouldered man. Tonight, he was dressed in a deep blue overcoat
contrasting with the crisp white of his linen shirt. His cravat was expertly
folded, somehow managing to emphasize the strength of his jaw and his
neck.

He truly was the handsomest man she had ever laid eyes upon. The very
picture of masculine perfection.

But that was not all she noticed.

Standing before him was a beautiful young woman dressed in the drab
colors of mourning. However, nothing about the style of her dress or the
way she was bedecked in finery gave the impression that she was grieving
still.

It certainly could not be discerned from the way she looked at the Duke
with longing and lust in her thickly lashed, blue eyes.

“That is Lady Stratford,” Mary murmured to her, “the recently widowed

Viscountess of Stratford.”

Selina vaguely recalled the demise of the Viscount of Stratford not even a
year ago.

“Rumor has it that she is thoroughly enamored with His Grace,” Julia
smirked. “Some have even speculated something going on between them,
and there was some talk that he would marry her.”

“Marry her?” Selina echoed. “I never heard of that rumor.”

Julia’s eyes twinkled wickedly. “Of course, you would not. His Grace
quashed it before it could even flutter its wings and make its rounds in the
Ton, and you know how he can be very thorough when he wants to.” She
pursed her lips and wrinkled her nose when they saw him walk away.
“Looks like he is not interested in whatever she has to offer, though. You
know, dearest, he showed more emotion that first time he saw you tonight
than he did the whole time she was coming after him.”
Selina’s gaze swiveled to her friend. “You were watching him?”

“Of course,” the redhead replied confidently. “I was watching for any
change in that chilling expression of his. You know that I like being proven
correct.”

“Are you still going on about that?” Selina groaned.

Mary was of the same opinion.

“I also think you should leave him well enough alone,” she told her sister.
“You might think it is fun to provoke Lord Rowley, but His Grace is an
entirely different entity.”

“Oh, please,” the redhead rolled her eyes. “Let us not speak of those who
are not amongst us. Rowley is not even on the same level as His Grace. Or
me.”

For some reason, Selina found that her friend’s voice was a little softer
when she uttered her brother’s name. Well, not really his name—just his
title.

“But as to His Grace,” she continued, “I think that you did manage to elicit
some sort of reaction from him.”
“But not one that is quantifiable by any means,” her sister interjected.

The redhead smirked. “Perhaps not right now. We might need to gather
more data.”

“Enough about His Grace!” Selina groaned, feeling the heat rising up to her
cheeks. She had seen the heated way he had looked at her as he descended
the stairs into the ballroom.

Felt it singeing her very blood.

She had also seen the threat of retribution in those cool blue eyes of his. It
was as if he was silently promising her that there would be hell to pay for
her antics.

She shuddered at that and then caught herself. Was she really afraid of him?

Or was that just a thrill of anticipation running through her?

“Is something the matter, dearest?” Julia looked at her in concern. “You
look rather…flushed.”
“It is nothing,” she shook her head. “Perhaps the ballroom is just too
crowded…I might need to go out for some fresh air.”

“Very well, I shall go with you,” Mary offered.

“No! I mean, I think it would be better if I went alone,” Selina amended

hastily. She smiled at her friend. “You go on ahead and enjoy the party.”

Before her friends could say anything more, she excused herself once more
and quickly walked towards the open doors facing into the sprawling
gardens of Oakridge Pavilion.

As soon as the cool night air kissed her heated skin, she let out a sigh of
relief, shaking her head as sobriety flooded her.

What was she thinking, rushing out like that? If her friends had not
suspected her of having some thoughts about the Duke before…well, they
certainly would now!

How could I have been so stupid? Selina berated herself.

But then again, had she not been that way ever since that day at Hyde Park?

No…not exactly at Hyde Park, she realized.

Before that, there had been that time she had brazenly called on him at her
brother’s residence—an event that the scandal sheets would have had a
party writing about to be sure—and she had seen a side to him she had
never seen before.

She had wanted to believe that that was the true man behind the formidable
image of the Duke of Barrington, but then, he would always revert to his
cold, detached nature, and she was left feeling all the more confused about
him…

Selina was so deep in her thoughts that she never heard the doors swing
open from behind her.

Or the erratic footfalls that approached her.

Not until a strong pair of arms wrapped themselves around her, and the
even stronger stench of spirits flooded her nose.

All she could let out was a choked scream.

He had noticed her absence in just a split second.

It was funny how he had an almost uncanny instinct that sought out her
presence, and the moment she disappeared, it was like all his senses were
on high alert.
William glared as he surveyed the crowd around him. She was not with her
friends, the Lewis girls, nor was she on the dance floor with yet another
spineless idiot.

Where could she have gone?

He cursed under his breath as he excused himself from another of Lord

Cornell’s long-winded tales of financial success and supposedly legendary
exploits amongst the ladies. If the man truly was as he claimed, he would
have no need to trumpet his accomplishments to anyone who cared to listen.
His reputation should have preceded him.

Alas, the Ton was filled with a remarkable number of men like Lord Cornell
and an equally remarkable number of young bucks who would pander to his
inanity.

When William caught sight of the open doors leading out into the gardens,
his eyes narrowed. He was a rational man given to rational decisions, not
gut instinct or emotion.

He saw Darren Hyland walking out the doors, and he followed him. The
idiot was drunk enough to stumble and probably fall to his death. In his
estimation, men like the imbecile before him, ones who could not hold their
liquor, should never be allowed to imbibe it.
Just as he was about to pull the man away, he heard a female voice utter a
sharp cry.

“Unhand me, sir!” that familiar voice demanded. “What do you even think
you are doing? Stop!”

His senses honed into that incensed voice, and what he saw nearly made his
blood boil—the bloody half-wit, inebriated as he was, had wrapped his
arms around Lady Selina Walford.

Against her will.

“You young ladies alwaysh say that!” he heard the idiot slur. “You know
you like it nee-way…could shee you looking at me the whole blurdy dam
night!”

“What? How dare you!”

Her protestations flew just as his hand clamped on the man’s shoulder. He
was going to break every bone in his body and take great pleasure in it.

“I believe,” William told him, cold fury suffusing his voice, “that the lady
told you to unhand her.”
Mr. Hyland must have been thoroughly inebriated or just thoroughly stupid,
for the man’s unfocused eyes blinked for a moment before he said the
unthinkable. “So, what, huh? Think you can just shashay here and—”

William did not even let the man finish before he let his fist fly, connecting
straight into his jaw. Selina let out a small scream as the inebriated man
tottered on his feet before crumpling to the tiled floor in a heap.

“Oh God! Is he dead?”

William smirked. “He will wish to be when he wakes up.”

He turned his gaze away from the idiot and looked at her pale face and her
trembling lips. Immediately, he took off his cloak and draped it over her
shaking figure.

“I s-suppose this is the part where you tell me that you saw this coming,”
she laughed half-heartedly.

“Would you like me to say that?”

She shook her head. “On second thought—no.”

“Then, I will not say it.”

She let out a sigh, and he felt her lean into him. Felt her soft warmth searing
him through the layers of fabric between them.

“I…I was just coming out for some air,” she said softly.

“I know. It was not your fault.”

“I thought you were going to say something along the lines of me putting
myself in difficult situations.”

William frowned at that. It was not her fault that the bastard could not
understand that no meant no.

Or that she looked delectable enough to eat.

Unfortunately, some men just could not control their baser urges. He knew
because he was having a bloody hard time controlling his whenever she was
around.

But for that lowlife to touch what was his…William would make sure he
would live long and well enough to regret it for the rest of his life.

William shook his head instead. “Let me take you home. You have had
enough for one night.”
“You know what? I think I will not disagree with you on that one.”

He felt his lips quirk at the corners. “I’m glad you have finally learned that
particular lesson.”

“No need to rub it in my face, though.”

“I shall make no promises that I am not entirely sure I will be able to keep.”

He felt her smile into his arms, and a fierce wave of protectiveness washed
over him—something that he had never felt in his entire life.

Just what kind of spell does she have over me?

And for the first time in his life, he realized he was perfectly all right not
knowing the answer.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 11

A fter the incident at the Oakridge ball, Selina felt that she should avoid
more gatherings at the risk of meeting Mr. Hyland somewhere.

Anywhere.

She still shuddered inwardly at the recollection of those strong fumes from
his breath and the way he held her so close, his hands groping her.

And whenever the memory of it would suffocate her, she would recall how
the Duke of Barrington had literally clobbered the man right before her. She
knew she should not feel joy at the sight of violence, but she did feel relief.

God only knew what would have happened if His Grace had not swooped in
to rescue her from that monster…

“Selina? Are you all right?”

She shook her head and saw Mary looking at her with worried brown eyes.
“You looked rather dazed for a moment,” she said, reaching out to feel
Selina’s forehead.

The young woman shook her head and smiled to reassure her friend. “I
apologize, dear Mary. My mind was on something else. What were you
saying earlier?”

She inwardly kicked herself as she vowed not to lose track of the
conversation once more.

“We were just talking about Mr. Hyland—you know he had an absurd
fortune but sadly not a title to his name,” Julia filled her in. “Well, just
yesterday, his businesses lost in a rather grand fashion, and apparently, he
has racked up quite a number of debts.”

Shock filled Selina. “What? How?”

The redhead merely shrugged. “Who knows? Gambling is a gentleman’s

vice, and Mr. Hyland apparently has a preference for White’s.”

But to lose all of his massive fortune in one fell stroke? It all sounded a
little strange to Selina. It was almost as if someone had just dealt the
gentleman in question a rather brutal blow—one that made sure he would
never recover.
A face too handsome to ever belong to a mortal man popped up in her head,
but she hastily quashed that train of thought.

The Duke of Barrington was a harsh man, but even he could not have
achieved something like that in a ridiculously short amount of time.

Or could he?

“They are saying that he must have angered someone,” Mary frowned.

“W-what do you mean?”

“It almost seems too sudden and much too contrived,” she replied softly.
“When everything seems like a gigantic coincidence, it very rarely is.”

“Well, whoever it is that Mr. Hyland has offended, we have to thank him
somewhat.” Julia chewed on her scone thoughtfully. “I never did like the
man. He was always too full of himself and treats women horribly. Why, at
the Manderley ball, he thought I should dance with him just because of his
massive wealth and implied that I was only after his fortune the moment I
humored him on the dance floor.”

“What distasteful behavior!” her sister exclaimed.

“Fret not. I made sure he paid dearly for it,” the redhead winked right at her.
“He’ll never dare to ask me again.”

Selina smiled at her friend. “Oh, do share your secrets with us, wise one!”

“Stop!” Julia giggled. “You make me sound like some old crone in the
forest.”

“No, you are more of a beguiling witch.” Mary wrinkled her nose at her
sister as she poured more tea for herself. “It is a wonder he has not gone
around talking about you. The man has a predilection for talking awfully
about anyone who dared to cross him.”

“Well, I made sure that he would not be able to do that to me. My word,
after all, carries more weight than his ever will.”

The young ladies all nodded at each other in agreement. A man as odious as
Mr. Hyland ought to have crossed a large number of people. They could
have found enough reasons to ruin him.

Still, she somehow could not shake off the suspicion that it was all the
handiwork of one man.

But if that was the case, then that would mean that His Grace wielded a far
more frightening authority than she had first assumed.
It could not have been him, she tried to convince herself. But just to be sure,
maybe I ought to pay him a visit…

William was in his study with his secretary, dictating instructions for the
new fleet of ships he had designed. Mr. Doyle, bless his capable heart, was
talented enough to be able to keep up with him, or William would have long
fired him for the sheer lack of competence. He was, after all, not in the
habit of hiring lackluster employees.

The secretary continued to scribble furiously as William rattled off the

changes he wanted made when a polite knock disrupted his train of thought.
William started to frown when the door opened just a crack for him to see
the faithful butler of Rowley House.

“Davis.”

The older man smiled politely. “Your Grace,” he said in a neutral tone,
“Lady Selina Walford has sent word that she means to pay you a visit.”

He raised a dark eyebrow at that. “A visit?”

“Shortly,” the butler averred.

And by “shortly”, she probably meant that she was well on her way to
Rowley House. He had learned that Lady Selina often did as she pleased,
and he could not very well turn her away from her brother’s residence.

“That will be all, Mr. Doyle,” he said curtly. “Please tell Collins to have the
initial changes ready by next week.”

Mr. Doyle looked at his employer in surprise for a moment before he

quickly composed himself. “I will inform him of your instructions, Your
Grace.”

“Very well. You may go.”

He saw the secretary give Davis a look of awe as he passed him on the door.

“Shall I prepare the salon, Your Grace?” the butler suggested.

He shook his head. “No. Lady Selina prefers to have tea in the garden. Have
them prepare lemon cakes with a light dusting of sugar.”

He had noticed from the last time they had tea together that she preferred
those over the vast array of scones.

Davis nodded in acknowledgment. If he found any of William’s instructions

strange, he showed no sign of it.
“As you wish, Your Grace.”

If there was ever a woman who had been born to tempt and torment him, it
had to be Lady Selina Walford, and the most ridiculous thing in the world
was that she did not even seem to notice it. If she did, then she was
exceedingly good at pretending not to, but William had lived long enough
and had seen enough to know that there was not a good enough actress who
could deceive him.

And if there was, the young woman before him would be the least likely
candidate as she gazed up at him with straight candor.

“Thank you for having me today, Your Grace,” she told him sweetly. “I was
afraid you would be busy with…ah, other matters.”

Seeing her in a soft peach gown with a lightly frilled, V-shaped neckline,
his thoughts were filled with pulling that damned slip of fabric aside to taste
the sweetness of her flesh. However, if he was to respond to her with the
same honesty she regarded him, she would most likely be horrified by the
direction of his thoughts.

“I have finished with business matters,” he told her instead, pouring her a
cup of tea. He noted the delicate blush on her cheeks as he carefully
scrutinized her, her eyes quickly darting to the side to avoid meeting his
frank appraisal of her.
“Gentlemen are never done with business matters,” she murmured shyly.

“Unless they are as efficient as I am and dispense of unnecessary matters.”

She bit her bottom lip in hesitation, and the sight of it bypassed his logic
and went straight to his loins. The little temptress, did she have any idea
what she was doing to him? How she was making him act in the most
impulsive manner?

Just a few days ago, he had disposed of a man who had dared to lay hands
on her. Did not even leave him a leg to stand on.

Well, he did let Hyland keep his life, but only because he knew how it
would torment him horribly to live out the rest of his existence in such a
manner.

“You have been busy, have you?”

He smiled at her. “I’m afraid you will have to be a little more specific, my
dear.”

“Mr. Hyland,” she clarified. “I heard he ended up in debtor’s prison.”

“Ah, yes,” he replied silkily. “He did owe me a rather appalling sum of
money and was remiss in his payments. However, I was not the only one he
incurred a large debt with.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “So…you were not the one behind it?”

Not directly, no.

He smiled again at her. “I did not put him there myself if that’s what you
mean.”

She gave him a look of exasperation. “I am never going to get a straight

answer from you, am I?”

“Not unless you ask the right questions.”

She rolled her eyes and pouted rather childishly at him. “Do you enjoy
tormenting other people like this? You are the most frustrating person I
have ever had a conversation with!”

Considering that he had noted that she would talk to nearly everyone, that
was quite the statement.

“Force of habit,” he quipped.

She tilted her head to the side, regarding him with a curious gaze. She
would have very much resembled a little sparrow if he had not been focused
on the elegant curve of her neck instead.

“Well, I am a little relieved I will not be seeing him anytime soon,” she
admitted softly.

I will kill him before he ever lays eyes on you again.

He had made it known to Hyland just as much before he sent him on his
merry way. Had watched the man’s eyes widen when he realized just how
much he’d screwed up.

“You are not the only one,” he reassured her. “I imagine there are a great
many women who are glad to see him gone.”

“Yes,” she laughed a little, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “I suppose
he was a rather disgusting fellow. Is that so terrible of me?”

“Lady Selina.”

“Yes?”

I would do much worse for you.

“It is all right to act terribly to one who has acted terribly to you.”

She shook her head. “Not really. If one were to go about demanding an eye
for an eye, would not the whole world go blind?”

As she looked up at him expectantly, he was reminded once again how

vastly different they were. She believed in goodness and forgiveness, in
letting go of past wrongs and injustices.

And William—he had been mostly sleepless for the better part of two
decades.

No, there were simply some wrongs that could never be forgiven, but Lady
Selina Walford did not need to know any of that.

“The world is mostly blind, anyway,” he shrugged.

“What a bleak way of looking at things, Your Grace.” Her tone carried a bit
of a sigh. “Perhaps, I can remedy that.”

He allowed himself to smile at her naivete. “Pray tell, how are you going to
do that?”

Lady Selina lifted her chin in defiant confidence, her eyes gleaming. “Come
with me tomorrow morning for a turn around Rotten Row.”
Somehow, the image of her riding astride a horse conjured other images of
her riding…something else.

Someone else.

Me.

“Very well,” he conceded. “Tomorrow morning then.”

“Really? You are not even going to dismiss me or anything?”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “Why? Would you rather I did?”

“No,” she frowned. “I just did not think it would be this easy to convince
you.”

He would have told her that it was generally very hard for someone to
convince him otherwise, but for the first time in two decades, he felt
powerless against the sheer warmth of her smile and her eternally sunny
disposition.

And William had no idea if that was something to celebrate about or not.
OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 12

T he morning after she invited herself to Rowley House for

afternoon tea, Selina forced herself out of bed at an ungodly hour.
Heaven only knew how much she wanted to sleep in, but she could not
afford to keep the Duke waiting for her. Not when she was the one who
invited him out for a turn about that well-trodden path that members of the
Ton liked to frequent to show off their horsemanship or their latest coaches.

Her maid, too, seemed a little confused as to why she was up much earlier
than if she had been going out riding with her friends.

But Jeanne had always been tactful and efficient, choosing to focus on the
task at hand and not bother with asking her mistress unnecessary questions.
She smoothly helped Selina through her morning ablutions and helped her
into a soft gray riding habit that showed off the curves of her body before
flowing into a full skirt. To top it all off, she perched a jaunty gray hat on
top of Selina’s perfectly coiffed hair to protect her face from the morning
sun.

Selina took a look at her reflection in the mirror, and for the life of her, she
could not figure out why her heart was fluttering in her chest just a little bit
madly.

It is just the Duke, she reminded herself. Just Andrew’s friend. Maybe even
my friend, too.

Of course, she could not say it to his face yet as she was still not quite
certain as to how he was going to take to such a bold claim.

“Well, I suppose I should go downstairs,” she said with a weak smile.

“You look beautiful, My Lady, as always,” Jeanne beamed at her. “His

Grace is already waiting in the salon for you.”

Selina’s eyes widened in surprise. “What? So early? Why did you not tell
me?”

In an instant, she was a flurry of movement, a blur of gray and trailing

ribbons as she dashed out the door with Jeanne trailing behind her in a fit of
giggles. Since when did her maid giggle like that?

“Calm down, My Lady! Else you’ll ruin your dress!” Jeanne called after
her.

“Yes, yes…but why did you not tell me that His Grace was already
downstairs?” Selina suddenly felt disquieted. “How long has he been
waiting?”

“Just when I was bringing in the water, My Lady,” the maid laughed. “I
would have told you, but he explicitly told me not to. He even told me not
to wake you up if you were still asleep.”

Selina frowned. Somehow, she did not expect him to be so forgiving about
tardiness. She had imagined he was one who would most likely haul her out
of bed or turn around and leave if she had the misfortune to be late to a
scheduled appointment with him. He was, after all, a very busy man, in her
estimation, and probably had a great many things to attend to.

It was already quite a feat that he agreed to accompany her for a turn at
Rotten Row today.

She forced herself to slow down and take a deep breath despite the awfully
loud hammering in her chest. Would she find him incensed at her for taking
such a while to prepare?

Perhaps not, she reasoned with herself. After all, it is still a little too early
to be going riding at this hour. Perhaps he just likes…being early?

There were still a lot of things about him that she found unusual, and
perhaps, this was but one of them.
She approached the salon at a much more sedate pace and found him
standing before one of the windows, his broad back to her. His hands were
clasped behind him, and his legs braced a little wide apart, his stance
conveying strength and stability. Selina found herself a little pleased when
she saw that he wore riding clothes in a darker gray than hers.

“Good morning, Your Grace,” she greeted him. “I apologize to have kept
you waiting.”

He turned around and regarded her with a raised eyebrow and a hint of a
smile. “There is no need to apologize, My Lady. You are perfectly on time.”

Selina found herself going weak at the knees at that look in his dark blue
eyes.

“Shall we head off then?”

How she ever found the strength to keep on standing and utter those words,
she would never know. Fortunately, he walked over to her, and in an
unexpected show of gentlemanliness, he offered her his arm. She took it
gratefully, and together, they headed off into the stables.

He helped her onto her mare, Aurora, and stood back as Jeanne helped her
arrange her skirts.
Selina snuck a quick look at him and was quietly amazed when he swung
himself gracefully astride a fine, dark thoroughbred. The sight of his tall,
powerful form atop his stallion was truly a sight to behold.

Jeanne subtly cleared her throat, and Selina blushed at having been caught
in the act of ogling the Duke. Chagrined, she urged her horse out of the
stable without looking back at him. His Grace effortlessly caught up with
her and matched her pace without saying a word.

Before long, they had made their way out of Trowbridge Estate and were
approaching Rotten Row. It was still a bit early, but it would seem that there
were some who enjoyed the brisk morning air. As they both rode quietly
side by side, shocked looks began to follow them.

“Everybody is looking at us,” she mumbled. “Is it always like this for you,
Your Grace?”

She cast him a glance, but he merely shrugged his broad shoulders. “I
would not know. I hardly go out riding.”

For a man who possessed an exceptional thoroughbred as the one he was

currently riding, this came as something of a surprise to her.

“But…your steed. Surely, he needs to stretch his legs out for a bit every
now and then?”
He flashed her a grin. “There are people in my employ who make certain
that Hades stays in perfect health. Amongst their duties are taking him out
to ‘stretch his legs’ regularly.”

So, the name of the steed was Hades. Somehow, she did not find it
surprising that it suited the Duke to name his steed after the dread lord of
the underworld.

“You are making fun of me, are you not?” Selina looked at him with
narrowed eyes.

He maintained a bland expression as he shifted his gaze towards her. “Lady

Selina, I assure you that I am not.”

“You are, too.” She stuck her tongue out at him childishly and caught a
small smile tilting the corners of his lips. It was rather small, but it was far
more blinding than the morning sunlight shining directly in her eyes — so
bright that she nearly swayed on her saddle.

“Be careful!” he warned her, reaching for her reins.

She looked up at him in surprise. “No need to fret, Your Grace. I am a

perfectly accomplished horsewoman.”

“Yes, but right now, you are riding sidesaddle, and I think we can both
agree on the fact that it is hardly an ideal position to adopt on top of a horse
and a moving one at that.”

Selina smiled at him. “You are right. I do wish that etiquette would allow
women to ride astride, but alas, it is hardly proper to do so in distinguished
company.”

“So, I am apparently ‘distinguished company’.” His tone remained bland,

but Selina could tell that he was teasing her.

She rolled her eyes at him. Hardly a ladylike action. “Would you have a fit
if I said otherwise?”

“You would not.”

The words were uttered with supreme confidence bordering on arrogance.

A few weeks ago, she might have found that intolerable, but she merely
laughed at it now.

“Of course, your distinguished self would think it beneath you to have a
temper tantrum,” she teased him. “You would be more likely to stare coldly
at me and ignore me for days on end.”

“Not likely,” he scoffed. “I would rather torment you with my presence.”

“But you already do that.”

Hades came to a sudden stop that took Selina some time to notice. She
turned around in surprise to see the Duke looking at her with an inscrutable
expression.

“Do I torment you so much?” he asked her softly.

More than you can imagine, she wanted to tell him. And in all the most
titillating ways possible.

Selina was about to open her mouth when a sultry feminine voice called
out, “Your Grace!”

She frowned and turned to find a strikingly beautiful young woman with
dark hair in a black riding habit that fit closely to her body, emphasizing her
chest. She was riding atop a fine chestnut steed which she pulled up close to
Hades as she smiled brilliantly at the Duke.

Lady Stratford, Selina recalled. Widow of the late Viscount of Stratford and
only daughter of the Earl of Thorne.

She also remembered Julia hinting that there had been something between
Lady Stratford and the Duke.
“Fancy meeting you here,” she said breathlessly as she smiled openly up at
him, blatantly ignoring Selina. “I do not recall you having an interest in
horsemanship, Your Grace, although I can see that you ride your horse
rather well.”

To her immense gratification, William merely answered, “There are a great

many things you do not know about me, Lady Stratford. I am not in the
habit of sharing my private affairs with just anybody and everybody.”

Selina saw the flash of hurt in the Lady’s dark eyes and the heat that
suffused her cheeks for a brief moment before she gracefully recovered her
composure. She truly was a capable woman.

“I am sure you do not,” she purred. “In that case, I look forward to seeing
more of you on Rotten Row, Your Grace.”

Without another word, she spurred her horse past them but not before
casting Selina a piercing glare. Selina nearly missed it, too, for Hades
immediately rushed before her and Aurora to form a barrier of man and
beast between her and Lady Stratford.

She raised an eyebrow at the Duke in inquiry. “One of your admirers, Your
Grace?”

He merely tilted his head at her. “Jealous?”

“You wish!” she scoffed before urging Aurora faster down the path. She did
not dare look behind for fear that she would see him smiling smugly at her.

That man was simply way too assured of his…physical assets!

So what if he had a hundred lovers? What gentleman in all of London had

never been with a woman in the biblical sense? Even her brother had his
dalliances!

Still, the thought of him with another woman, a tangle of naked limbs and
breathless sighs…it had her belly roiling rather awfully.

And yet, at the same time, she could not help but wonder what it would be
like to be with him in that way?

Selina shook her head, absolutely horrified at the direction of her thoughts.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 13

“S he did not just do that!” Julia exclaimed in an outrage. “The

hussy!”

“Mind your language!” Mary reprimanded her sister. She turned towards
Selina with a sharp look in her eyes. “But I do agree, she was rather
dreadful.”

The redhead scoffed. “And she ended up humiliating herself. Serves her
right!”

It was another afternoon at Powell Estate, and the young ladies were
gathered in the salon for afternoon tea. Selina had just narrated to her
friends what had happened at Rotten Row yesterday and their chance
encounter with the newly widowed Viscountess of Stratford.

“Her husband is not even cold in the grave yet,” Mary remarked primly.
Her sister only shrugged nonchalantly. “Then again, she never even
respected him that much with the way she carried on with the Duke of
Barrington when he was on his deathbed.” She piled more jam onto her
scone and leaned in with a conspiratorial whisper, “I tell you—it was all
over the Ton that they were lovers, but you know how His Grace is with
women.”

Selina only had a vague idea of it, not because she did not know but
because she more or less did not want to know. It was bad enough that she
was inundated with stories of her brother’s exploits. To know of his best
friend’s even more nefarious reputation was not something she wished to
peruse.

Especially if his exploits included such beautiful women like Lady

Stratford.

“Well, she probably feels that she can be as forward as she pleases, now that
she is a widow.”

Selina frowned at that. “There are many widows in the Ton who do not act
as brazenly as she did.”

“Yes, but they’re mostly old and dour. That is why they are called
dowagers, my dear.”

“Julia!” Mary scolded her sister although there was a hint of a smile at the
corner of her lips.
“Well, you have to admit it was a rather nice play at words,” the redhead
snickered.

Selina rolled her eyes at that. “Yes, you have the wittiest sense of humor a
lady can be blessed with.”

“I know, right?”

The young ladies all burst out in laughter, Mary shaking her head at Julia
and Selina.

“Well, I am certainly glad that His Grace did not abandon you to the wolves
on that instance,” she said in relief. “I have heard that Lady Stratford can be
rather…mean when she does not care for somebody.”

“How could somebody as mean as you say have such a beautiful

countenance?” Selina shook her head and took a sip of her tea. “You would
think that a person’s black heart would show through in their appearance.”

Mary wrinkled her nose at that. “That is why you should never judge a book
by its cover, dear Selina. Appearances can be deceiving.”

Of course, she knew better than anyone about that. After all, did the Duke
of Barrington not possess the most flawless appearance out of all the
gentlemen in the Ton? If he was any less perfect, perhaps she would not
have to deal with Lady Stratford’s sharp glares at all.

She sighed inwardly and continued to sip at her tea. Lady Stratford could be
as mean as she wanted, and Selina would merely hold her ground. She
might be younger and more inexperienced, but that did not mean she could
be pushed around either.

Lady Stratford was going to see for herself that she, Selina Walford, was
not one to shrink away in the face of an adversary—even one as beautiful as
she.

Even if Selina was a little jealous.

Maybe.

His employer scanned the blueprints that Mr. Doyle had delivered to him,
his brow furrowing as he studied the notes that the craftsmen had added to
the draft.

“How long did Collins tell you it was going to take?” he asked again.

“Ten days at the most, Your Grace.”

He nodded in acknowledgment. Mr. Doyle felt that it was just satisfactory
according to His Grace’s standards—it was fast, but not too fast. He knew
that the Duke was not one to sacrifice craftsmanship for speed. His
employer knew well enough the pitfalls of a job done much too quickly, and
he had absolutely no tolerance for shoddy work.

“All right, I will inspect the prototype within a fortnight.”

Mr. Doyle nearly heaved a sigh in relief. “Will that be all, Your Grace?”

He saw that the Duke was about to ask about the new machines for his
weaving factories when a polite knock interrupted him, and Davis politely
called out from the other side of the door, “Your Grace, you have a guest.”

He frowned and glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece. At this hour?

His Grace, as expected, did not take kindly to unannounced visits unless it
was urgent. His factories, or someone, had to be on fire if one wished to
disturb him at an inconvenient time.

“It is rather late to be receiving guests, Davis,” he said coldly.

The butler cleared his throat sheepishly. “Ah, it is Lady Selina, Your Grace.
She insists on seeing you.”
The Duke immediately stood up, causing Mr. Doyle to give out a surprised
squeak.

“Lady Selina? Is something the matter?”

“Ah…Not really, Your Grace. I have shown her into the salon.”

The poor butler had scarcely finished his sentence when the Duke neatly
sidestepped him to get to the door, to the great surprise of his secretary.

Davis turned to leave, and Mr. Doyle did not see the need to tarry in the
study when his employer had already left. It was already a clear sign that
business was done for the night.

“Am I to assume that the Lady Selina in question is Lady Selina Waldorf?”
he asked the butler. “The sister of Lord Rowley?”

Davis smiled pleasantly despite the confusion that Mr. Doyle knew was
clearly written on his face.

“The one and the same, Mr. Doyle. The one and the same.”

The secretary nodded and refrained from asking any more question. What
his employer did in his private life was none of his business. Still, it was
imperative to know which people were welcome to disturb His Grace and
which ones were not.

Lady Selina was clearly in the former group.

William hurriedly walked down the stairs from his study to the salon. It was
already dark outside. Why would Lady Selina pay him a visit unless it was
something urgent?

He saw her maid standing at the door to the salon and nodded curtly at her.
The woman did not seem to be overly anxious which—as much as he was
loath to admit it—eased the tension he felt coiling in his gut.

Inside, Selina was seated on one of the upholstered chairs in a lovely

sapphire dress. She had propped her chin delicately on one of her hands as
she stared into the flickering flames of the fireplace, a soft smile on her
face. She was clearly unharmed, and he relaxed a bit more.

He caught the eye of the maid stoking the logs in the fireplace and nodded
subtly at her in a signal to leave them.

“Oh! You are here.” Lady Selina stood up, and once again, William felt
himself ache at the sight of her dewy skin above the rounded neckline of
her dress.
It would take very little effort for him to tug the fabric aside and—

“I know it is already late, and I should have sent word before coming over,”
she said with a hesitant smile, “but I heard you were rather busy today, and
this was the only moment I could talk to you.”

William frowned. “Why? Is something amiss?”

Was Esther bothering her again? He had already warned her father that he
would not tolerate any of her blatant attempts to become his Duchess.

Or even just return to his bed.

He had made those things clear to her, but giving her family another
incentive not to test his patience should have made his intentions
exceptionally clear.

“What? No!” Selina laughed and shook her head, the sound like a melody
that heated his blood. “I just came to give you this.”

She handed him a beautifully wrapped box. William did not know what to
make of it. In the past, he had always been the one giving gifts—to
mistresses, to business partners, even to his most trusted employees to
ensure their loyalty.
He had never received one in the last two decades.

Her next four words only hit him harder.

“Happy birthday, Your Grace.”

William nearly dropped the box in his hands. “What did you say?”

“Happy birthday.” She frowned and tilted her head. “Did I do something
wrong?”

How could she know that he had stopped celebrating his birthdays after that
fateful night two decades past? Year after year, it had only served to remind
him of what he had lost, what he would never be able to get back.

It was the reason he buried himself in work, even more so on this particular
day. He had even considered himself successful when he could scarcely
remember the date of his birth when it arrived.

But Lady Selina had arrived with a gift box in her hand—one that he could
not and would not refuse.

“Thank you,” he said softly and not without some gratitude. “I…have never
really celebrated my birthdays, but thank you.”
“Why?” she asked, tilting her head in that same manner of hers that
reminded him of a curious little sparrow.

You should not ask questions like that, little one, he wanted to tell her. My
life is far different from yours — the world I live in is much darker.

He should have turned her away, ordered her to return home and not do
anything so foolish again. He should have berated her for leaving her home
at such an ungodly hour with only her maid to accompany her. It was
unsafe, and he knew best the kind of filth that roamed the streets of London
when the sun went down.

However, he could not turn away from the vibrance in her smile or the
kindness in her eyes. For far too long, he had lived without them, had
convinced himself he had no need for such things.

Lady Selina was everything he was not—she was the light to his dark. The
warm sunshine to his eternal void.

He would destroy her—he was sure of it.

And still, he could not help his fingers as they curled into the box, desperate
to keep it with him, even as he feared that he would only end up destroying
them both.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 14

H e watched as the smoke rose up from the lit cigar in lazy tendrils
as Duncan’s eyes remained downcast as they stared into the
fireplace. He had noticed his uncle’s fingers had seemed a little more
unsteady, the gigantic ruby from his ring finger winking incessantly against
the firelight, and he frowned when he saw some of the ashes float to the
polished hardwood floor.

“Any news from Scotland?”

Duncan’s voice was gravelly from a lifetime of enjoying his fine cigars. He
always bought them from just the one supplier, too, with whom William
was well-acquainted from childhood.

Fortunately, he never shared in his uncle’s love for the smokes. It was one
of their many differences.

“I ordered my men to pull back a little,” William replied. “This little rat is
smarter than most.”
He had to be if he managed to evade him for more than a decade and a half.
Patience, however, was something that William had a lot of, especially
when he was playing a game of vengeance. The strings were far too delicate
to be pulled so abruptly.

Duncan only nodded thoughtfully. “Well, you are a man now, and you have
your own ways of dealing with things. I trust that you will not let these
vermin slip away from our grasp.”

“Rest assured, he will not be able to escape.” His teeth flashed in the
firelight in a rare smile, but it was far more threatening than reassuring.

“By the way, I heard that young lady came over yesterday to celebrate your
birthday,” his uncle remarked offhandedly. “Nice young woman. From a
fine family as well. Your parents would like her very much.”

William frowned at that, his hand clenching into a fist at his side, away
from his uncle’s gaze. He disliked the sentimentality in his uncle’s voice
whenever he talked about his brother and his brother’s wife. They were
both dead. What use was there in wondering if they would like what he was
doing?

Also, William found that he did not at all like how his uncle was apparently
keeping tabs on him as well.
“Do not take this as intrusion on my part,” Duncan reassured him, “but you
are already an adult. You should think about finding a wife, preferably one
who will not distract you needlessly.”

“I do not intend to be distracted by anything,” William replied. “Or

anyone.”

“Good.” His uncle smiled and stood up. “It is late now. I have to get back
home.”

Lately, Duncan had become even more of a recluse, and from what William
gathered, he was the only one Duncan ever visited any more. He had even
stopped going to the usual gentlemen’s clubs.

He never stopped smoking his cigars, though. He most likely would not
right until his death, no matter how many times William tried to dissuade
him from the habit. Too much of anything was never good.

Attachment was never a good thing.

He said nothing more as he walked his uncle to the door, noting the changes
in his gait with a frown. Duncan had always been a rather large man, with a
tendency towards being portly, but there were just some changes in him that
told William that his uncle was getting on in years.
He also seemed to be more anxious, especially about the situation in
Scotland.

“We will catch him soon,” William reassured the older man as they stood at
the door.

Duncan smiled and clapped a hand on William’s shoulder. It had very little
of the strength and vigor it used to possess.

“I know you can do it, William. If there is anyone in this world who can do
it, that would be you.” He put on his hat and tipped it in the direction of his
stoic nephew. “I shall await your good news.”

William did not close his door until his uncle’s coach finally disappeared
from sight, his eyes narrowing as he peered out into the dark.

Rowley House and Trowbridge Estate were situated next to each other. He
had handpicked all his staff that he brought with him to Andrew’s house,
and of those that remained, he had vetted them himself.

That only meant that his uncle was watching him or Lady Selina or both of
them from the outside. He did not like it at all.

He was going to have to be more thorough in cleaning up. It would seem

that there were some spots that he had missed.
It was a beautiful day to be promenading about at the Park, but Selina was
feeling rather gloomy, even with her cheerful lemon-yellow dress and
matching hat and parasol. For the past four days, His Grace had been
consumed with work and had even curtly advised her to stay at home and
refrain from getting in trouble.

Advise me? Selina scoffed inwardly. Highly unlikely! I would like nothing
more than to tell him to take his advice and shove it—

“My dear, why do you have such an unpleasant look on your face?” Julia
remarked. “You look absolutely gloomy. Very much like a certain Duke—”
She gasped dramatically, her eyes widening. “He has not influenced you
with his sunny disposition, has he?”

“Oh, do be quiet, you!” Selina rolled her eyes and laughed at her best
friend’s antics. “You know it is not a good idea to rile him up.”

“Well, you do a rather exceptional job of it, I might say.” The redhead
winked at her. “Which proves the fact that he is capable of human emotion
although the range might be rather limited.”

Only Julia Lewis would be able to say that the Duke of Barrington was
limited in any way.
“But I suppose one cannot have it all,” she sighed despondently. “With the
face of a fallen angel and the prowess of a demon in bed, he has to have
some flaws, I suppose.” She waggled her eyebrows suggestively at Selina.
“That is already a fair trade off, I might say—your satisfaction in bed is
guaranteed, but you will have to live with a man with the emotional range
of a rock.”

“Julia!” Selina admonished her best friend, her cheeks heating up from
more than just the summer sun.

But it was already too late, for the seed of that imagery had already been
planted in her mind. Her best friend merely watered it and allowed it to
grow even more.

It would be a complete lie to say that she had not fantasized about the Duke
in bed. How many times had she wondered just how his lips would taste as
he kissed her thoroughly? How would it feel to have his hands caress her
intimately? Possessively?

She felt her throat run dry, her body heating up at the mere thought of it.

“Well, well, well…look who we have here to grace us with her presence.”

Both young ladies turned around to see a group of women in gaily colored
frocks and parasols sneering at them. At the head of them was Lady
Stratford, dressed in a deep gray that was almost black.
Still in her mourning clothes, I see, Selina thought to herself. But who is she
trying to fool, really? The woman seemed more ecstatic at the demise of her
husband!

While she did pity Lady Stratford at having to marry a decrepit, old man
like the late Viscount of Stratford, it still was not a valid excuse for her
appalling behavior.

“Lady Stratford,” Julia greeted them cheerfully and then added, “and
friends.”

Selina saw one of the friends, Miss Deborah, turn a wild shade of pink at
the added insult. “You think too highly of yourself, Lady Julia.”

Miss Deborah was the niece of the Marquess of Arlington. She was known
amongst the Ton not only for her waspish tongue but also for her immense
dowry. Indeed, it could be said that there were very few who could tolerate
her if it was not for her family’s great wealth.

Julia, to her credit, merely examined her nails in front of the offended
women as if she could care less. “That is because I can, Miss Deborah,
which is more than what I can say for you.”

“Why, you!” Miss Deborah fumed.

Julia merely smiled at her, but it had all the friendliness of a tiger deciding
which part of its prey it was going to tear up next.

“Calm yourself, Miss Deborah,” Lady Stratford told her gently. “After all,
birds of a feather do flock together.”

Selina tipped her head, gesturing to their attire. “That is rather fine advice,
Lady Stratford.”

In truth, the group of young ladies looked like a veritable flock of gaily
colored birds, but the sight of Lady Stratford still in mourning colors
amongst them had a jarring effect on the whole scene. It only served to
highlight clearly the difference between the ladies in their group.

“I find that it is my responsibility to guide these impressionable young

ladies on how to navigate the waters of Society,” she replied, quickly
regaining her composure. “After all, it would be more prudent to seek
advice from those who are more mature.”

“Advice on what? How to chase a man to the ends of the world until he
begs you to please stay away from him?” Julia snorted.

Lady Stratford’s cheeks pinkened visibly. “You have a rather crude mouth,
Lady Julia Lewis. Your lady mother would be wise to curb that wicked
tongue of yours.”
She huffed indignantly and walked away, her trail of underlings following
her and shooting pointed glares at both Selina and Julia.

But the damage had been done, and Julia had already struck a serious blow
to her reputation as a woman of fine manners and etiquette by bringing to
attention her rather forward behavior when it came to the Duke of
Barrington. After all, everybody in the Ton knew that if His Grace had
made an offer for her, she would have married him and not her deceased
husband.

It was even more tragic that even now, His Grace still showed no signs of
affection towards her. Not even mere friendship.

Selina sighed as soon as the group was out of earshot. “You really should
not have said it like that, Julia. You know how she is.”

“She is insufferable, that is what she is,” her friend scoffed. “She likes to
act like she is better than the rest when she is really just as sad as most
women of the Ton are.” The redhead closed her eyes and shuddered.
“Trapped in a marriage with a man she did not love. I have no desire to be
as bitter and resentful as she is.”

“You do have to marry one day,” Selina pointed out. “Your mother expects
that of you.”

How could they forget the expectations that weighed heavily on a young
woman’s shoulders the moment she made her bow?
As for Julia, it was far easier, for she was the sort of charming young lady
who attracted gentlemen in droves. Selina had her own suitors, but none of
them were ever up to snuff.

Of course, there was Lord Vermont, but that had been a disaster she was
more than relieved to be free of.

“It is our blessing that we have not been made to marry a man that is not of
our choosing,” Selina reminded the redhead softly.

For all that her parents barely acknowledged her, she was thankful at least
that they never forced her to marry someone who was not to her liking.
Perhaps her brother played a great role in that, and she would be forever
grateful to him for giving her that choice.

Well, as much of a choice she could have, considering Andrew never found
any of her suitors satisfactory. If things were to be left up to him, Selina had
faith she would wind up a spinster.

But what if His Grace…No! That is impossible!

Her brother would be more likely to be incensed at the idea of his best
friend courting his younger sister than if it had been any other man. Worse,
it probably had the potential to ruin their friendship.
Besides, His Grace would never regard her in that manner. Oh, there were
times when he would look at her in a way that made her feel like she was a
feast to be devoured by him, but he had always behaved well in her
presence otherwise.

But still, she could not help but wonder what it would be like to be in his
arms, devoured to within an inch of her life.

Selina doubted she would still have the compunction to worry about her
brother in that instance.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 15

W illiam looked out of the window with a passive expression. In the

past few days, his men had weeded out several lowlifes spying
on Lady Selina. Some of them were from his uncle, as he had expected, but
some of them were also from Lady Stratford.

It seems that she is desperate to make an enemy out of me, he surmised

coldly.

“Your Grace.”

He turned slightly to face a swarthy man with a beady eyes and mousy
brown hair. His was a face that was quite easy to forget and most likely to
get lost in a crowd, if not for the wicked scar poking out of his shirt and
onto his neck. On regular days, Hutchins might cover up such an
identifiable feature, but not when he was in the presence of his employer.

Before William, there was no reason to hide. It was also completely

unnecessary because whatever William wished to find out, he could
accomplish with very little effort.
“Your Grace, we have finished cleaning up.” His voice was deep and
gravelly, like rocks grinding against each other. “I have also stationed men
to watch the Lady—without her knowing it, of course.”

Of course.

Because William knew very well that Lady Selina would throw a fit if she
ever found out that he was having her followed. He did not understand why
she was so against it, either. The woman was a magnet for trouble if Hyland
was any indication of it. If anything, she needed all the help she could get.

“The men also reported something to me,” Hutchins continued. “An

altercation early this morning at the Park.”

William raised an eyebrow at that. Did this involve another man? Was
Hyland not enough to send a message to all the others in London to keep
their bloody hands off of her?

Hutchins took his employer’s silence to mean that he should continue.

“Lady Stratford and her group crossed paths this morning,” he reported.
“Apparently, Lady Selina Walford and her companion, Lady Julia Lewis,
were promenading down the park when the group decided to have a few
words with them.”

“And then?”
Hutchins gave out a little smile. “The young ladies put Lady Stratford and
her clique in their place.”

“It seems that Lady Stratford has not learned her lesson,” William remarked
in a silky voice. He picked up a paperweight and examined the markings on
the dark stone. “Her father apparently does not know how to rein his
daughter in as well.”

He had warned the Earl of Thorne, and the man had assured him that his
daughter would behave herself. This could be considered a breach of
contract. William had no patience for men who could not keep their word.

If he had known just how much trouble Lady Stratford would be right now,
he would have never spared her a passing glance. Desperate women did the
craziest things, but she was about to find out that he had his own way of
doing things.

“You know what to do,” he said softly, handing him a folded missive. “You
may go.”

Hutchins nodded and accepted the paper before leaving Rowley House
without a sound—as expected of the man who operated in the shadows for
the Duke of Barrington.
He turned his gaze back to the windows which looked out in the direction
of Trowbridge Estate. It was already late, and Lady Selina should be
preparing for bed right now.

As for William—well, he had never really slept since that fateful night two
decades past. Sleep was the last thing he was going to worry about.

In the Trowbridge Estate, there was a pond filled with the most beautiful
water lilies. In the summer, the occasional swan would glide elegantly on
the still waters, providing a picturesque view.

It was by this pond that Selina was enjoying afternoon tea with Mary when
she heard of the latest scandal to sweep amongst the Ton.

“I heard from Mother that it caused quite the uproar when it came out in the
scandal sheets,” Mary said in her characteristic quiet way. She sipped her
tea daintily and frowned. “When I passed by the Thorne estate earlier, the
street was eerily quiet. I heard that Lady Thorne had taken to her bed with
some sort of illness.”

Illness was a convenient excuse when one dared not entertain guests or
feared to venture out of one’s home. It was an effective deterrent but
woefully inadequate as one could not be ill for weeks on end—which was
generally the timeline for most of these scandals.

“What of Lady Elena?” Selina asked her friend.

Lady Elena was the younger sister of Lady Stratford and the only remaining
unmarried daughter of the Earl of Thorne. For the family to be hit by a
scandal—especially one pertaining to their finances—well, it did not bode
well for her marriage prospects, and was marriage not the goal for one to
strive for during the Season?

Mary shook her head. “She has refused invitations for this week as well.”

“That is rather…unfortunate,” Selina murmured. She had the strange

feeling that there was somebody pulling the strings behind this, but she
dared not voice her suspicions out loud without proof.

She would not put it past the Duke of Barrington, though, after what
happened to Mr. Hyland. This had his particular signature scrawled all over
it.

“Lady Stratford has also retired to her country estate for the rest of the
week,” her friend told her. “You can imagine my sister’s glee at seeing her
run with, according to Julia, ‘her tail tucked between her legs’.”

Selina wrinkled her nose. “I do not think Lady Stratford would appreciate
the imagery.”

“Julia can be quite venomous, and we both know it. She is not one to mince
words.”
The ladies both shared a smile. Mary was, after all, the more discreet and
proper of both the sisters, at the expense of often being called the dull one
or a wallflower. Julia was quite the opposite.

In Selina’s estimation, Mary was just as sharp and witty although she rarely
showed such a side to those who were not within her inner circle. Even
then, she was fiercely loyal and protective of those close to her heart.

“Well, it certainly will be much quieter without Lady Stratford around,”

Selina sighed. “This past week, she has been rather vicious towards us…”

“That is because she still holds an affection for His Grace, and he has been
showing you particular attention,” Mary pointed out. “You know how
women can be disgusting towards each other when it comes to men.” She
shuddered delicately. “Which really begs the question why?”

Selina offered her a slight smile. “Perhaps because you are yet to meet
someone you would fight tooth and nail for, my dear.”

The younger Lewis sister flushed and turned her gaze away. “Well, I have
yet to find such an exceptional man who could make me forget all common
sense and decency. Hopefully, when my time comes, I will find that my wits
are still about me.” She looked at Selina meaningfully. “Has it been like that
for you as well?”
Selina found her heart hammering in her chest for no particular reason.
“Has what been like for me?” she echoed, feigning ignorance.

“Really, Selina, you should know that I have observed far too many people
from the sidelines to not realize that you and His Grace…” she trailed off
with a pointed glance at her friend. “But if you are not comfortable
discussing it, I shall respect your decision—which is more than I can say
for my sister, just so you know and can better prepare yourself.”

“His Grace and I…It is not what you think it is,” she mumbled, biting down
on her lower lip. “I do not know what we are really. Friends, maybe.”

Except that besides Andrew, it was rather hard to think that the Duke had
any real friends. Did she even want to be just his friend? Somehow, that
thought stung more than she cared to admit.

She felt a warm hand squeeze her own reassuringly and looked up to find
Mary smiling gently at her. “I think you will figure it out yourself, my
dear,” she said softly. “Just…be careful.”

Because the Duke of Barrington is not like other men.

She squeezed back her friend’s hand. “I will be. I promise.”

She smiled again, but it was more for Mary’s benefit than her own.
William poured himself some brandy and turned his attention towards the
fireplace. Earlier in the day, the Earl of Thorne had demanded an audience
with him.

Pleaded, really.

The scandal that had leaked out must have hit closer to home than the
nobleman wanted to admit. Not only that, but news like that would only
serve to scare off potential business partners.

Lady Stratford had well and truly dug a hole for herself and her family, but
her father had no intention of jumping in with her. It was just too bad that
William was not a particularly charitable person, and he let the Earl know
that in no uncertain terms. Lord Thorne had left his study with every
intention to set his eldest daughter straight.

“So…the Earl of Thorne.”

William glanced to the side where his uncle was seated on a wing-backed
chair, smoking his favorite cigar. Duncan was smiling mirthlessly.

William shrugged. “He was getting in my way.”

“Was he, really?”

His uncle gave him a meaningful look. Duncan might not be possessed of
the same business acumen that enabled William to raise himself to become
one of the wealthiest men in London, but Duncan had raised him after the
death of his parents. He knew William more than anybody else—something
that did not sit well with William in recent times.

He flashed his uncle a savage smiled. “Do I really need any other reason?”

Duncan snorted. “You do whatever you need to do as long as you do not

lose sight of your real goal.”

William’s eyes hardened, his hands clenching into fists. He did not need the
reminder.

His uncle might have been used to molding him in the past when he had
been a more impressionable youth, but Duncan would find that he was not
so easy to influence now that he was a grown man.

“Do not get distracted, boy,” his uncle warned him with a bit more
roughness to his voice. “Most especially by a woman.”

He did not need to mention a name to make it clear that he was talking
about Lady Selina Walford.
William restrained the urge to snipe at his uncle for even daring to bring her
up in their conversation. She was his concern—not his uncle’s or anyone
else’s.

“I will take care of everything as always,” he told the older man coldly. “Do
not worry so much about it.”

Duncan shot him a pointed look. “I know you, boy. I know you are more
than capable of getting it done. Do not dillydally about. It does not suit
you.”

“Thank you for the reminder.”

William downed the rest of his brandy and poured himself some more. He
did not appreciate his uncle poking his nose into his business.

After William reached adulthood and came into his inheritance, he had
encouraged Duncan to take a step back and retire to his estate in the
country. He had given his uncle every comfort imaginable, but as he saw it
now, Duncan had difficulty relinquishing old habits, like that cigar of his.

Or was that really all there was to it?

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 16

W hat am I doing here?

Selina stifled a sigh of frustration, her fist poised above the door to knock
before she lost the courage that had taken her the better part of the morning
to summon.

Mary had warned her to be careful, and of the three of them, it could be said
that the younger Lewis sister was the most rational. Julia was a foregone
thought, and now, Selina was debating if her common sense was as good as
she thought it was.

After all, rational young ladies, good young ladies, would never knock on
the door of a cold, arrogant gentleman, demanding to know why he had
been ignoring her for the better part of the week.

“My Lady?”
Selina glanced back at her maid sheepishly. “I do not think this is a good
idea, Jeanne.”

“Nonetheless, you are already here, so you might as well make the most of
it,” a deep baritone remarked.

Selina let out a surprised yelp and turned around to find the Duke striding
up towards the front door, dressed in his riding clothes.

“Have you been out riding?” she asked him with narrowed eyes.

He raised an eyebrow at her, and all of a sudden, Selina realized how very
wrong that came out.

“I did not realize it was improper to go out riding, My Lady,” he said

blandly. “Should I ask for your permission next time?” His voice dropped
lower. “Or is it that you want to go riding with me?”

He was mocking her! She could see it clear as day in his blue eyes.

“Well, suit yourself,” she huffed. “Why would I want to go out riding with a
pompous, arrogant peacock like you?”

“A peacock?”
She nodded emphatically. “Of the very worst sort!”

She was babbling on and on like an idiot at his front door—Selina knew it,
but she was far too riled up to feel embarrassed about it.

“Well! Now that I have said my piece—”

“I apologize for not inviting you out to ride with me,” he said suddenly, his
voice a low and hypnotic purr that shattered her defenses all at once. “I did
not think that you would appreciate my company so much.”

And he still is as arrogant…

“Well, I was bored enough to consider this was a good idea,” she groused,
purposefully diverting her eyes from his intense gaze. “I shall be on my
way, then. Good day, Your Grace.”

She turned to leave when she felt strong fingers clamping on her upper arm
—firmly but gentle enough, surprisingly. She gasped and looked up at him.

“I have been…busy with other things.”

No doubt about it! Selina wanted to snap back at him.

Pray tell, what was he so busy about? Ruining the Earl of Thorne by
running a scandal sheet?

But he was looking at her so solemnly that the tirade in her head died before
it could ever reach her throat. She knew she should have looked away, knew
that those eyes of his were going to undo all logic she had left in her.

“Too much work is not good for you,” she mumbled instead, casting her
gaze to the ground.

“No one has ever told me that before.”

She raised her chin defiantly. “Well, it is not. You will truly get sick if you
keep pushing yourself to work for days on end.”

“So, what would you have me do?” His voice was low. Hypnotic.

Selina felt her mouth run dry at the sound of his voice. She had to lick her
lips to see if she could still move them properly enough to talk.

“Ride with me,” she said, hating how her voice came out breathlessly.
“Every morning. At Rotten Row.”

Why would she suggest that? He clearly did not like mingling with the rest
of the Ton, and he had hinted at just how much he found their inane chatter
beneath him.

He did not have any problem following her to every ball and social
function, however, but mostly just to ruin her fun.

She saw his eyes harden and shuddered.

“Go back home, Lady Selina,” he told her coldly, dropping his hand. “Do
not cause any more trouble.”

“Trouble?” she hissed indignantly. “That is all that I am to you, is it not?

Ha!”

She blinked her eyes, forcing back the stinging tears. She would not cry for
this man, would not cry because of him.

“I have tried so hard to make this situation bearable for the both of us,” she
told him angrily. “It is nice to know that my efforts are wasted.”

He looked like he had been stung. Like she had hit him physically. Which
was impossible, of course, seeing as she barely reached up to his broad
shoulders.

“I am leaving now,” she declared. “Good day, Your Grace.”

How many times had she said that already? Good grief, she really needed to
stop repeating herself like an idiot in front of this man!

She bumped into him as she stomped off, wincing a little. The man was as
hard as a brick wall, but she was hurt and angry, and she did not care. She
did not even look back to see if Jeanne was trailing after her.

“I will pick you up at Trowbridge Estate tomorrow.”

She stilled in her tracks, her eyes widening before they narrowed. “Forget
it. I would rather—”

“Rather what?”

Never mind answering to that, she thought to herself. He does not care,
anyway. He never will.

“Tomorrow, Lady Selina.”

She turned around to glare at him and found him looking at her with an
inscrutable expression on his handsome features.

“Do not worry, Your Grace,” she told him acidly. “I shall find someone else
to accompany me. One who would not consider my presence a nuisance.”
He glared at her. “Tomorrow, Lady Selina, you had better be in your riding
habit. I will be damned if I allow you to ride out with anyone but me.”

He had not expected to see Lady Selina at his doorstep that afternoon, but
he should have known better than to try to guess the next thing she was
going to do. The only other person who was just as unpredictable was
probably Lady Julia Lewis, but unlike Lady Selina, he did not find the
redhead’s antics pleasing at all.

Still, it was a pleasant surprise, and as much as he had been trying to avoid
her for the past week, the sound of her voice was a welcome distraction
from…everything else.

He sighed as he looked out of the window. As he had promised, he was in

Trowbridge Estate, waiting for Lady Selina to come down.

Riding. He was going to go riding with the one woman who was driving
him to distraction. The exact woman that his uncle had warned him about.

The same woman he would rather keep at arm’s length because he knew
better than anyone that if he kept her too close, he would break her. Ruin
her.

The same way he destroyed everything else that he touched.

William knew that he was not a good man, despite the way Lady Selina
looked at him. The proof of that was staring him right in the face—he could
not keep well away from her, even when he knew that in the end, he would
only end up hurting her.

Why that mattered to him at all, he did not want to think too much about
right now.

“Good morning, Your Grace.”

He turned around at the sound of her perfunctory greeting and regretted this
morning almost immediately.

She was dressed today in a camel brown riding habit, the cropped jacket
clinging closely to her figure, emphasizing her lush breasts. She walked
towards him with an easy grace, her hips swinging to the song of pure
temptation.

How was he going to go out riding with her when all he could think of was
riding her?

This woman would be the death of him. He was certain of it.

“What,” he asked her, “are you wearing?”

She blinked at him in confusion for a moment before her eyes narrowed. “I
believe it is called a riding habit, Your Grace. I wore one of them when we
went out riding the last time.”

Did she really? He did not recall it being this tight.

His breeches, too, had gone really tight.

“You are not going to make me change, are you?” she hedged, looking at
him warily.

He shook his head. “Come, let us be off.”

She nodded and did not even bother to wait for him as she sauntered off to
the stables where her mare was waiting. He clenched his jaw as he followed
suit.

If his reaction to her outfit was any indication, this was going to be a long
ride—and not the kind he was looking forward to.

Their horses fell into an easy step as they made their way down Rotten
Row. Thankfully, it would seem that with the Earl of Thorne battling a
financial scandal, Lady Stratford and her friends would not be out riding
today.
Selina cast a glance at her companion and frowned. They had scarcely
spoken a word to each other at all. At the very least, he did not seem as
angry as he did yesterday. His mercurial moods still left her confused
sometimes.

“You know you did not have to accompany me today if you dislike it so
much,” she told him quietly, keeping her gaze to the well-trodden path
before her. “I am not in the habit of forcing myself upon people who do not
like me.” She bit her lip. “I just thought I could help…somewhat.”

He did not say anything, but even then, there was something soothing about
his silence. Like they could stay like this without saying a word to each
other, and she would still enjoy his company.

“I do not dislike you.”

She looked up to find the Duke staring out into the road before them, his
face impassive as always. Even his tone was kept neutral.

“All right,” she replied softly. “I suppose I do not dislike you all that much
either.”

“You would be right to dislike me,” he smiled bitterly. “I am not a nice man
or a good man.”
She glanced at him in surprise and found him sitting on his horse as stoic as
ever. Yet, there was a trace of vulnerability in his words that made her feel
like there was more to his words than he let on.

Besides, Andrew would have never befriended him if he was truly as vile as
he made it seem. She and her brother might bicker a lot, but she knew him
to be a good judge of character—better than her, at least. Andrew would
never leave her with someone he did not trust.

“I shall have you know that it is not up to you to dictate my opinion of

you,” she told him primly.

“Really? And what is your opinion of me?”

She shot him a sideways glance, smiling begrudgingly at him. “I think I

shall keep that to myself for now, Your Grace.”

He did not say anything, but she caught a small smile lurking at the corner
of his lips. Whatever it meant, she was not sure yet.

All she knew was that there was more to the Duke of Barrington, and with
every moment she spent with him, she was all the more intrigued and drawn
to him. Like a moth to a flame, flirting with death with every flutter of its
fragile wings.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 17

S elina smiled at her reflection as Jeanne did her hair. Ever since that
day at Rotten Row, she and the Duke had struck some sort of truce
with each other, and even though she did not care much for riding horses,
she found herself looking forward to their usual morning turn about Rotten
Row.

Today, she had chosen a dusky pink riding habit—a rather feminine color,
she would say, but it made her look more vibrant. Jeanne had even threaded
pink satin ribbons into her hair to match her outfit. Overall, she was feeling
rather pleased with her reflection.

“All done, My Lady,” the maid declared after putting the finishing touches
to her hair. “You look as pretty as a flower, that you do.”

She smiled at Jeanne in gratitude. “It is all thanks to you and those nimble
fingers of yours, dear Jeanne. For the life of me, I do not know how you
ever manage to do these lovely braids.” She touched the intricate coif that
the maid had wound about her head. “The other young ladies are forever
asking me how you do it!”
“Well, having four sisters with heads full of hair can teach you a lot of
things,” Jeanne laughed. “Now, you had best be on your way.”

Selina smiled as she admired her reflection once more. “It is much too
early. His Grace will not be here for a quarter of an hour, at least.”

She made her way down the stairs to wait for the Duke, humming to herself
as she trailed her fingers along the balustrade. As she had told Jeanne, it
was still rather early, and she could only see a few of the servants coming
out to dust the house spotless as they always did every morning.

She heard the door open and practically skipped only to come to a
screeching halt when she saw the familiar figure at the front door.

“My dear Selina, how I have missed you so!”

To his credit, Lord Daniel Vermont was a handsome man—the kind that
débutantes and married women alike swooned over in droves. Tall and
debonair with rich brown hair and a charming smile…and yet, he was
unable to evoke the same turmoil in her that the Duke did with very little
effort.

“Oh.” Selina found that she could not hide the disappointment in her voice
upon seeing him, so she plastered the best smile she could muster. “It is
you, My Lord.”
She saw his smile falter by a few degrees. “Come now, what is with this
formality, my dear?”

He reached out for her, but she quickly stepped away from him. “My Lord,
we are no longer courting. I would bid you to keep a respectable distance
from me.”

Lord Vermont, however, was nothing but persistent.

“My dear Selina, I know that I have hurt you terribly, and I am dreadfully
sorry for that,” he told her with an apologetic expression. “Allow me to
make amends for that, at least, and we can go back to the way we were.”

“I am afraid we are well past that, My Lord,” she told him coldly.
“Whatever that was, I wish to leave it well behind me.”

At that moment, his charming smile morphed into a sneer. “You can stop
playing coy with me now, Selina. We both know you have been waiting for
me to take you back.” He spread his arms wide open. “Well, here I am now,
my dear.”

She shook her head at him. “I am afraid that you misunderstand me, Lord
Vermont, so I must make myself clear—we have already called off our
courtship after you were found in a most compromising position with
another woman.”
“A whore, nothing more,” he said offhandedly. “When we wed, you will be
my wife, and she will be beneath you.”

Selina could not believe she had ever considered the man before her to be a
suitable match for her, even if it was in the past. He was a vile man with no
morals and an even filthier mouth.

“You would do well to watch your language in my presence, Lord

Vermont,” she warned him, raising her chin. “Please leave now before I
summon the servants to take you out bodily.”

“You would not dare!”

She glared coldly at him. “You will find that I will pretty much dare to do
whatever I wish in my own residence, My Lord!”

She did not know where Lord Vermont gathered the audacity, but he
stepped forward and reached for her, his fingers wrapping around her upper
arm in a viselike grip.

“Unhand me!” she yelled at him. “How dare you—”

“Ah…but you and I are courting, my dear,” he smiled coldly at her. “Surely
a little intimacy between couples is warranted.”
Selina struggled, but Lord Vermont was clearly stronger. He might be a
veritable dandy, having never applied himself to physical labor, but he was
still a man and stronger than her.

“You know,” he sneered, his face so close to hers that she could see the
madness in his eyes, “when you struggle like this, it excites me so much.”

“You are despicable!” she spat at him, only for him to tighten his grip on
her until she was certain he would leave bruises with his fingerprints on her
skin. “Let go of me, I say!”

She tried to pry his fingers from her arm then Lord Vermont let out a
surprised yelp, and Selina felt herself being yanked along before strong
arms came around her protectively. She struggled for a moment before she
looked up and realized that she was in the arms of the Duke of Barrington.

And he looked livid enough to kill.

William had been feeling better than he had in the past few days. Duncan
had more or less stopped bothering him about the matter in Scotland, and
his men had all but cleared those who had been trailing Lady Selina. Lady
Stratford had also—wisely—chosen to act like a proper widow for once and
keep to the comforts of her own home.

He should have known that things that were too good were never meant to
last when he walked in through the front door of the Trowbridge Estate as
he had for the past four days—only to find a man with his hand clamped on
Selina’s upper arm.

His blood boiled at the sight, and for a moment, all he could think about
was tearing that man limb from limb for daring to lay his filthy hands on
her.

“You are despicable! Let go of me!”

He did not need any more motivation to grab the man by the shoulder,
forcefully yank him off of Lady Selina, and then punch him.

Blinded by rage, he had not thought to control his strength, and with the
man still grasping her by the upper arm, she stumbled along with that scum.
Instinctively, he wrapped her in his arms, shielding her from whoever
would seek to harm her.

“What the—who do you think you are!?” the man raged before them as he
revealed himself to William as Lord Daniel Vermont, who had once courted
Lady Selina.

That particular fact made him even angrier, and he could not resist punching
the man again, eliciting a roar of outrage.

“Vermont, I suggest you compose yourself and think clearly about the next
steps you are about to take,” William warned him scathingly. “This is
Trowbridge Estate—You cannot just barge in here and accost Lady Selina
without consequences.”

His steely voice held the promise of retribution—slowly and painfully.

Daniel Vermont’s eyes widened in fear when he finally realized who was
before him, holding Lady Selina Walford like she was the most precious
treasure on the earth.

“Your Grace,” he stammered, “there must be some misunderstanding.”

William raised his eyebrow at him. “I do not care for your excuses,
Vermont. Get out of my sight before I decide that this world will be better
off without you in it!”

Fortunately, Vermont had regained his common sense and quickly scuttled
out of the front door, leaving William alone with Lady Selina.

He immediately pulled back and surveyed her, his eyes inspecting her from
head to toe.

“Your Grace—I am fine. Truly, I am,” she told him gently.

Still, he could not be sure as he turned her around. Oh God, what if he had
hurt her? Broken her somewhere? She was a delicately raised young lady
after all.

Thankfully, he had not seen bleeding anywhere. If something had happened

to her, if she had been hurt in any way…

“Your Grace.” Her hands came up to cup his face gently, steadying his
frantic searching so that his wild eyes would meet hers. “I am fine. You
came here before he could do anything.”

Her words flooded him with calm and a relief he had never felt before. If
she had been hurt, if he had been too late, he would never have forgiven
himself. He would have hunted Vermont down to the ends of the earth to
make sure he paid for even the smallest of her injuries.

“Are you not hurt anywhere?” he asked her, his composure slipping by
more than just a few degrees. “I shall make him pay for it—”

“No,” she told him softly. “I am not hurt anywhere—well, maybe a little.
He gripped my arm a little too tightly, you see, but Lord Vermont does not
possess enough strength to even truss a chicken.” She laughed a little and
buried her face into his chest, the sound coming out muffled but going
straight into his veins.

William held her close, the scent of her hair slowly clearing the bloodlust
that had gripped him.
“I will never allow anyone to hurt you,” he told her gruffly. “And what
would you know about trussing up a chicken?”

She looked up at him and smiled saucily. “Well, I was mostly left to my
own devices as a child in the country estate. Naturally, one would come
across these things.”

“What other things did you come across in your childhood?” he asked her
softly.

He recalled how Andrew had felt so angry about his little sister being
neglected in the country estate while he was given every comfort and
convenience by his parents by virtue of his being the heir. It was only when
Lady Selina had been older that they realized that they needed to bring her
to London. Fortunately, her education had not been so neglected, and with
her natural effusive warmth, she fit right in London without much effort.

“Many things,” she whispered. “But for now, I think I very much enjoy
staying like this in your arms.” She paused and asked timidly, “Do you
think me highly improper for taking advantage of you like this?”

William closed his eyes. “Is it not the other way around—with me taking
advantage?”

He was losing his grip on his sanity. He could feel his control slipping
second by second as he reveled in the feeling of her soft warmth in his
arms.
When she raised her gaze up to him, wide-eyed and trusting, his logic flew
clear out the windows.

He knew he should have stopped her. Damn it, he was older, wiser, harder
—but when she stood on her tiptoes, her delicate hands braced on his chest,
and kissed him, he was none of those things.

All he knew was the soft touch of her lips on his, and the hunger that had
plagued him for weeks on end consumed him.

He yanked her close to him, his mouth opening over hers to not only taste
but devour her. His fingers speared into her hair, through her ribbons and
the thick, luxurious locks as he held her for plundering. His tongue traced
the seam of her lips, and when she let out a soft moan, he took that as
consent and delved deeper into her mouth.

He could feel his breeches tightening painfully as she pressed her body
closer to his. Eager. Greedy. Wanting.

Breathless, they came apart, and he raised a hand to trace her kiss-swollen
bottom lip with his thumb.

“I am not a gentle man,” he warned her. “Tell me to stop.”

She did not know it, but it was a plea. If she told him to stop, he would.
Without question.

No matter how hard it was, he would pull himself away from her. Save her
from his dark desires.

“No.”

His fingers dug into her flesh. He was going to break her. Ruin her. Destroy
her.

But he could not stop.

He lowered his mouth to taste hers again. To hell with all the consequences.

They would burn together.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 18

S he did it.

She kissed the Duke of Barrington. The man she swore she could never live
with.

She kissed him, and he kissed her right back!

Selina smiled as she rolled about in bed, her fingers tracing her lips,
recalling how his fierce passion made her want to melt in his arms. He had
kissed her so thoroughly until she could hardly stand, and then, they had
both decided that she was in no way fit to go out riding after he had ruined
her hair.

One look at me and anyone would know what transpired, she thought wryly
to herself.
She was not brazen enough to go out in broad daylight in the state she had
been in. Why, if Andrew ever heard of it, he would probably drop
everything and kill his best friend—and she did not want that.

She liked the Duke alive, thank you very much. Andrew, however, might
not share that same sentiment at all.

She sighed and rolled out of bed. Ever since they kissed, Selina had hardly
been able to sit still. Sleep was going to be just as impossible.

She smiled giddily as she looked out of her windows—the ones which
faced towards Rowley House. She could not see him, of course, separated
as they were by walls and gardens. Still, she wondered what he was doing
tonight.

Did he think about her as much as she was thinking about him? Unlike her,
was he able to sleep?

She bit her lower lip at that—after all, he had had many lovers before her,
Lady Stratford amongst them, supposedly…

Selina sighed and pulled on her robe. What was the use of entertaining such
thoughts, really? And in the dead of the night at that.

She really should just go back to bed…Yes, that was the sane option. Go
back to bed and try her very hardest to fall asleep.
Yes, good luck with that, she thought to herself wryly. Not when I have spent
the better part of the last two and a half hours trying to sleep with nothing
to show for my efforts…

It was official—the Duke had managed not only to get under her skin but
into her blood as well.

William hardly ever slept, and when he did, he did so lightly.

Which was why the moment he heard a dull thud in his room, he was
instantly wide awake, his senses on high alert.

He squinted into the darkness and could make out the silhouette of a figure
fumbling in the darkness. Then, there was another thud, the unmistakable
sound of flesh hitting something solid, followed by a soft hiss that sounded
rather familiar.

“Lady Selina.” He was far more surprised than he let on in his voice. How
did she get here?

No, the most pertinent question would be what the hell was she doing here?

“Your Grace?” a timid voice called out. “I, ah…Did I wake you up?”
“Not really,” he replied wryly. “I hardly ever sleep.”

“Hardly?”

He lit the lamp, and the dim light illuminated her beautiful features—wide,
luminous eyes, softly rounded cheeks framed by thick, luscious locks.
William wondered what it would be like to run his hands through them once
more—this time, they would be unbound—while she moaned beneath him.
Even in the darkness, he could make out the soft curves of her body, and he
hardened immediately at the sight of it.

“I do not sleep much,” he told her. “Which is not the point. How did you get
here?”

“Oh,” she smiled mischievously at him. “This is my brother’s house. I have

my ways of getting here, naturally.”

Naturally.

But he would bet his stable of fine thoroughbred stallions that she never
came over to Rowley House in the dead of the night searching for her
brother.

“You should not be here, Lady Selina.”

He heard a soft sound which seemed more of complaint. “Lady Selina?”

“Would you rather I refer to you so intimately by your first name?” he

asked her with a raised eyebrow.

He saw the blush that spread across her cheeks. “It does seem rather
intimate,” she admitted, “but…I like hearing you say my name.”

Bloody hell, did she come here to personally torment him?

“You should not have come here, Selina,” he said gruffly.

“I know,” came her plaintive tone, “but I could not sleep.”

And somehow, he felt a deep, almost primitive arrogance that she should
come to him when she was not able to sleep.

He stalked towards her, watching her breasts rise and fall as her breathing
quickened. “Did nobody ever tell you not to go into men’s rooms in the
middle of the night?” he asked her softly.

She bit her lower lip. “It is rather inappropriate…”

Not only inappropriate. Scandalous.

If word of her nocturnal visit ever made it out of this room, she could be
ruined. No gentleman would ever want to make an offer for her, no matter
how obscene her dowry was.

But the thought of another suitor courting her was enough to set William on
edge.

“Selina.”

She looked up at him. “Yes, Your Grace?”

“Come here.”

At first, he thought that she would run. Bolt for the doors in some belated
act of modesty.

He was greatly pleased when she took a deep breath and stepped towards
him slowly. The moment she was within reach, he pulled her close, eliciting
a surprised yelp from her.
“William,” he growled into her ear. “My name is William, and I would have
you screaming it when I am touching you.”

He heard her sharp intake of breath and saw her pupils dilate with desire.
She wanted him. He could sense it. Smell it in the air.

He fisted her hair and gently pulled it, tilting her face up to receive his kiss.
This time, he did not hold back, his lips and tongue ravishing her while she
clung to him, mewling softly. She pressed herself against his erection, and
he growled, nipping her lower lip in response.

“Your robe,” he told her roughly. “Dispose of it.”

For a moment, she hesitated. And then, she pulled at the sash that held it
together. With trembling fingers, she brushed it from her shoulders, letting
it fall into a puddle at her feet.

Dressed in nothing but a sheer night dress, he had never seen a more
beautiful sight in his entire life. Her hair was unbound, trailing over her
shoulders down to her lush breasts. Beyond the thin fabric, he could make
out the rosy buds that had hardened into sharp tips.

“After tonight, you will be mine,” he told her. “You will never look at
another man or entertain him. I will own your body and your soul.”
She looked up at him with wide eyes, a soft sigh falling from her lips when
he reached out to cup her breast through her dress. He tweaked one rosy
peak, and she arched into him, greedy for more of his touch.

William smiled at her reaction. She might be an innocent in the carnal act,
but she was a natural temptress. He kissed her again as his hands kneaded
the soft, rounded flesh of her breasts, drinking in her sighs and moans.

Slowly, he edged her towards the bed until the back of her knees hit the
mattress, and he pushed her into it. The sight of her dark hair spread across
his sheets was a fantasy he had stroked himself to for many nights, but now,
she was here. In his bed.

Soft. Pliant. Willing.

He would take all that she would give him and demand even more. She was
a feast spread before him, and before daybreak, he would devour all of her.

Gently, he ran his hand over her calf, delighting in the hitch in her breath.
As his hand went up, up, up, so did her night rail until she was exposed to
him, the clothing bunched above her breasts.

“Take it off,” his voice was rough with desire.

She nodded and obediently took off the last barrier between them. He was
still fully clothed, and yet she was already as naked as the day she was born.
He ran his thumb over her lower lip. “Suck it.”

She nodded and complied with his command, her heated mouth sucking
eagerly on his digit until he felt that he would explode in his breeches—
something he had not done since he was a decade and a half and untried in
matters of the bed.

“Good girl,” he growled. To reward her, he cupped her breast and began to
gently play with soft, firm flesh. When he pinched its rosy peak, she let out
a moan and began to suck on his thumb more eagerly.

“You like it when I touch your breast like this, hmm?” he asked her. “But I
am going to touch you even more intimately than that, my dear. Now, open
your legs for me.”

For a moment, it seemed like she would hesitate. He saw the confusion in
her eyes, reveled in her innocent gaze, knowing that he was the first one to
ever touch her in this manner.

The only one who would ever touch her so intimately.

He kissed her deeply as his hand began to wander down her curves, trailing
over her breasts with their hardened pink tips, down to the dip of her waist
and the curve of her hip. He caressed her thigh as his tongue plundered the
recesses of her mouth, his questing fingers hovering over the apex between
her legs.

He found her already wet for him, even as she clamped her thighs together
in surprise.

“Relax, sweet one,” he crooned. “Do you trust me?”

She looked at him with wide eyes and nodded.

“Good. Now, open up for me.”

She trembled for a moment before turning to bury her head in his chest as
she opened her legs for him. He speared his finger into her slick folds as she
gasped into him.

“Can you feel how wet you are, my sweet Selina?” he purred. “Do you like
it when I touch you here?”

The pad of his finger circled that nub of desire, and she cried out softly.
“Dear Lord, yes…yes.”

“William,” he corrected her, applying more pressure to where her pleasure

was centered. “In bed, you will recognize only me as your lord and master.”
“William,” she moaned. “Oh, it feels so…so…”

Her small hands were clutching at his shirt as he continued to pleasure her
with his finger. He found her entrance and slowly eased a finger inside her
while his thumb pressed gently on her bud. He let out a soft growl as her
wet heat enveloped his digit. He inched into her until he had sunk his entire
finger up to the knuckle.

“You are so wet and hot,” he hissed into her ear. “You feel so good, do you
not know that? And you take my finger in so well, like a good girl.”

She moaned louder as he began to gently move his finger.

“Does it hurt?” he asked her.

“No,” she shook her head. “It feels…oh, William, it feels so good…”

He smiled at her. “Wonderful. Do not hold back, sweet one. Let me know
how good it is for you.”

He continued to pump his finger in and out of her while alternating between
stroking and circling the pearl of her desire. Her moans began to grow
louder, and when he so much as slowed down, she would utter the most
adorable warning growls—something that pleased William to no end.
The young ladies of the Ton were taught to be shy, their mothers naturally
keeping them ignorant in the act of intimacy. He was pleasantly surprised to
see how naturally enthusiastic Selina was proving to be in his bed.

“William…” she gasped, writhing on the bed in wild abandon. “I…it’s

so…”

She was not able to say it yet, but he knew she was nearing the edge of
what could be her very first orgasm. It filled him with pride that she had
given that honor to him.

Of course, he would not disappoint her.

“That’s it, sweet one,” he urged her, his voice hoarse with lust. “Do not hold
yourself back. Embrace it.”

Her hips began to move to the rhythm of his hands. One. Two. Three.

She bucked and screamed out his name, but he continued to move his finger
in her, drawing out wave after wave of pleasure from her body until she was
sobbing on his sheets. Only when she was trembling from the sensations
washing over her did he finally stop and gather her into his arms, pulling
the blanket over her sweaty body as he let her ride out her orgasm.

It was several more moments later when she dazedly raised her head up to
meet his gaze.
“What was that?” she asked him in wonderment.

William smiled at her. “That was your initiation into the act of intimacy, my
sweet Selina. Now, get some rest. You have a long night ahead of you.”

He was not done with her yet. Not by a long shot.

But he was not such a brute that he would not allow her to recover.

“Hmm…” she mumbled, sleepiness and contentment lacing her voice.

“What about you?”

He intended to take care of himself, too.

“I told you that I do not sleep, did I not?” he murmured, stroking her bare
shoulder.

“Oh, but you need to sleep, too…” she trailed off as her eyes fluttered shut.

He could not help the smile as he watched her drift off into sleep. He held
her closer and leaned back into the pillows, feeling the most peace he ever
had in a long while.
Maybe, he could sleep a little, too—that is, until the next round.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 19

S elina bit at her lower lip as she stared out into the garden and then
beyond, to Rowley House. She wondered what he could be doing
now. Was he, perhaps, as unsettled as she was?

She frowned. That was rather doubtful. With his reputation as a rake, she
doubted he would lose any peace of mind over what they had just engaged
in.

And it was not just once either, for William had seen fit to make her
shudder and quake before he escorted her back to Trowbridge Estate just
before dawn broke.

To say that he was experienced in matters of the bedroom was an

underestimation—he was extremely adept at it. One might even say that he
possessed a sheer talent for making her toes curl just so.

And it would seem that he delighted in the fact that he could reduce her to
such a state.
Julia was right. Truly, that man was…something else.

She sighed as she set the book down for the…She had forgotten how many
times she had attempted to read that same page in the past two hours. She
acknowledged that she was in dire need of a distraction but could not
summon the wherewithal to do much beyond sit and ponder as to how the
Duke—William—was doing.

“I say, someone must have forgotten that we are to visit the modiste today!
You know that the Jamison ball is in just a few more days and—oh, upon
my word! I daresay I shall need a new pair of gloves for that alone!”

Selina looked up from her book to see Julia bustling in through the door
with her usual exuberant smile, her blue eyes alight with the same
mischievous glint that had called many gentlemen to her side.

Her friend tugged at the ribbons of her hat to reveal her vivid red hair as she
sat down beside Selina and helped herself to the tea and biscuits that had
been set before her. She glanced up at her friend and frowned.

“Not only do you seem wholly unprepared for our trip, but you seem to be
totally out of sorts today, darling,” she remarked. “You look rather pale and
in dire need of a good nap. Come now, did that handsome neighbor of yours
ruffle your feathers again?”
If by ruffling her feathers, the redheaded meant that he threw up her skirts
and caressed and fondled her until she was hoarse from screaming and
begging and pleading, then she supposed she could agree.

As it was, she could not very well tell Julia what had transpired between
herself and the Duke last night.

“Not exactly,” she finally managed to say, feeling the heat creep up her
neck. “I was just in deep thought about something.”

Julia gave her an odd look but, thankfully, refrained from probing more into
the matter.

“Terrible occupation, that,” her friend sympathized. “Thinking. It is an

activity that I think better left to dear Mary.”

Selina smiled at that. It was just something that was quite expected of Julia
—her friend never did seem to dwell overmuch on things.

“You know that Mary and your mama would be much more comfortable if
you thought about your actions a bit more,” Selina told her gently. “Maybe
tone it down just the slightest bit?”

Julia merely shrugged. “Why should I? Spontaneity is the essence of life. If

I sought to control everything, then how am I ever going to enjoy
anything?”
Selina paused at her friend’s words. “I do think you have a point.”

“Don’t I always?” The redhead winked at her. “Now, I shall help myself to
some tea and your cook’s delectable biscuits while you get dressed. We
have to get to the modiste before that dreadful Miss Delaney gets her hands
on the good silks once more—she was absolutely horrid about it last time,
you know.”

Selina shook her head and went back to her rooms to get changed. Perhaps
Julia was right, and a little bit of shopping might be just the thing to help
her clear her mind. Heaven knew she was not getting anything done by
sitting around at home and ruminating.

Besides, being out might actually get her out of the feverish state William
had induced in her since the night prior…

Bond Street was where the Ton preferred to do their shopping and a place
that William generally avoided well enough if he could. Not only was it
lined with the most fashionable shops in London to attract the beau monde,
but it was also a popular venue for marriage-minded mamas to promenade
about with their marriageable daughters in tow—well, for the most part of
the mornings, that is.

Once the dinner hour approached, it was considered to be the turn of the
gentlemen to frolic in that most fashionable avenue with a few dandies even
adopting a ridiculous gait to make themselves seem even more fashionable
—an exercise in futility that William regarded with much derision.

However, there were certainly places of note to him, particularly a studio in

Old Bond Street where the more athletically-minded gentlemen of the Ton
took boxing lessons from the renowned pugilist, Gentleman Morris.

It was in this studio where William found himself expending much of the
tension that resulted from Selina’s unannounced visit into his bedchamber
last night.

“Your Grace, you are distracted,” Morris remarked with a grin as he landed
a blow at him. “I have not seen you like this since—well, I have never seen
you in such a state, I suppose.”

William glared at the man. Morris was one of the very few people he
regarded as a friend, and one he could confide in on some aspects.

“Does this have something to do with a particular young lady?” the pugilist
continued to tease him. “Who would have thought I would live to see the
day? The Duke of Barrington distracted by a female—my word—”

William did not deign to reply, choosing to let his fists do the talking as he
let out a flurry of punches in the general direction of Morris’s annoyingly
smug face. The Gentleman Morris, of course, had dealt with many
opponents in his day and could easily hold his own against William which
was why William chose to spar with him on occasion—he knew that he did
not run the risk of severely injuring the experienced fighter before him.
“Lady Selina Walford must be an exceptional young lady indeed to be able
to rile you up in such a way,” Morris commented after both men retired
from the ring.

This earned him a cold glare from William. “I would appreciate it if you
could keep her name out of your mouth, Morris.”

The pugilist held his hands up in a placating manner and shook his head. “I
would not dream of maligning the young lady, Your Grace.”

William knew that the man meant no malice with what he said. Unlike the
other gentlemen of the Ton, Morris had not been raised to go around in
circles and was rather forthright—a key trait that kept William patronizing
his business, despite newer studios that had opened over the years.

Young bucks who wanted to be deemed athletic flocked to instructors who

would tell them what they wanted to hear. Morris could be relied on to tell
these impressionable young gentlemen what they needed to hear which was
seldom what they appreciated.

William, however, was not so thin-skinned.

“Her brother left her under my care for the entire duration of his absence,”
he finally admitted.
“Lord Rowley?” Morris shook his head and grinned wryly at him. “He does
know that you are the worst choice to guard an impressionable young
woman such as the Lady Selina Walford, does he not?”

“Of course, he is aware of that,” William snorted. “I am still wondering

what Rowley was on when he decided that I was the best possible candidate
for the task.”

“The man was probably in dire straits.”

Yes, that was probably it. Andrew had to know the sort of things that
William was up to—not that it was ever explicitly discussed between them.
Andrew had to know how he was with women.

To entrust his younger sister to him…well, William had serious doubts as to

the logic behind it.

Even more so now with what happened between the both of them.

Andrew would be livid if he found out—the man was far more protective of
his sister than their own father.

But Selina was already a grown woman with a fine head on her shoulders
capable of making her own decisions. She was also, quite apparently, not
the helpless damsel her brother deemed her to be, for she had a strength of
her own that she kept beneath a facade of etiquette and decorum.
“This young lady…you are not involved with her in an inappropriate
manner, are you?”

William glanced at the fighter. Define inappropriate.

It was inappropriate for them to be together unchaperoned. Inappropriate

for them to be enjoying each other’s company so much. It was completely
inappropriate for him to kiss her and touch her as he did last night.

And this morning.

It was also very, very much inappropriate to keep thinking of her as he did
now.

But William never cared much for what was inappropriate and what was not
—only this time, he found that he could not bear for her to be thrown under
the judgmental scrutiny of the Ton when it was as much his fault as it was
hers.

“I know that you do not care much for all this, Your Grace,” Morris
reminded him solemnly, “but I would tread carefully with the young lady in
question. Broken bones are much easier to heal than broken hearts.”
William managed a half-hearted smirk. “One would think that a man like
you would be the last one to talk about broken hearts.”

Morris shrugged his heavily muscled shoulders. “A man must be respectful

of the feelings of women and just as careful not to tread on them. It is their
arena, and it pays to be cautious when venturing out in uncharted territory.”

“I shall keep that in mind.”

When he stepped out of that studio at 17 Bond Street, the pugilist’s words
were still ringing in his ears. Emotions truly were uncharted territory for
him as he had refused to deal with them for the better part of the past two
decades. They only weighed him down and made him prone to making
mistakes he could not afford to make.

And he had made a lot of them in recent times.

William was used to dealing in logic and strategy, but he had become more
complacent which allowed his uncle and Lady Stratford to place their own
spies to watch Selina—something that he would have caught onto much
earlier if he had not been so distracted.

Not to mention that last night should never have happened.

He could not allow it to happen again, could not allow himself to

compromise her any more than he already had.
No woman should ever have to walk the same path with him. That was
cruel, and he could not subject Selina to such a fate.

But even then, he still wanted her. Craved her. Needed her.

Against his better judgment.

If that was the case, then let the world come at her, and he would deal with
them, whomever they may be. He would destroy anyone who would dare to
think of harming her.

He sent word to Selina to refrain from coming over to Rowley House that
night which was rather fortunate, for his uncle took that most opportune
time to pay him yet another of his nocturnal visits.

Lord Gillingham lit another of his favorite cigars as William just stared at
the flickering flames in his fireplace. The warm light cast upon his uncle’s
features seemed only to highlight a kind of sallow haggardness, and
William was slightly astonished to find the man very much reduced before
him.

In the aftermath of his parents’ death, his uncle had always seemed to him
so strong and stable. Of course, William had never trusted anyone fully
after that fateful night, but for Lord Duncan Gillingham, he reserved a
certain amount of respect.

“The physicians have advised against smoking,” William remarked softly.

“They say that it causes a plethora of illnesses and compounds existing
ones.”

His uncle let out a loud guffaw. “I am too old and set in my ways to change.
Let me have my cigars.”

William nodded and turned his attention back to the fire. He still had not
asked his uncle why he had Selina followed, and it was not in his nature to
demand an explanation. The fact that he took care of the men that Duncan
had sent should be enough of a message to his uncle—which was to say that
he did not appreciate his meddling.

Duncan wisely chose to stay away and say nothing more of it.

“You look different today,” Lord Gillingham noted. “Are we getting any
closer to the bastard?”

William smiled a little at his uncle’s agitated state. The prospect of

vengeance, of justice so close at hand, was enough to make even the most
stoic man a little more excited. He should know for he had felt a keen
anticipation for things at hand.
Unlike his uncle, however, William was more patient.

“At this point, it is only a matter of time,” he shrugged. It might not exactly
be what his uncle wanted to hear—Duncan had been wanting to kill the
men responsible for the murder of his brother for more than two decades.

But William believed that death was much too lenient a punishment for the
men who destroyed his life in one night.

No, death would not come swiftly to them. Not when he had other plans.

“You…should not wait overlong,” Lord Gillingham muttered. “For every

second the cat toys with the mouse, there is the chance the mouse can
escape.”

William’s wicked smile flashed in the firelight. “Oh, I do not intend to ever
let my prey escape me. You wound me with your lack of faith, Uncle.”

“Not my intention, I assure you. It is just that we have waited for this
moment for so long,” Lord Gillingham sighed. “You, of all people, can
understand how much I wish for all of this to be done and over with before
any other problems can arise.”

“There will be no ‘other problems’,” William assured his uncle.

The older man sighed and shrugged his shoulders. “Well, if you are
anything at all, I trust that you can be thorough, especially on this matter.
Very well, I think that is all that there is for tonight. I shall see myself out;
no need to accompany me to the door.”

William nodded and did not so much as rise from his position on the wing-
backed chair he occupied. He stared into the fireplace as his uncle’s
shuffling steps faded out into the hallway.

He most certainly would be thorough as he had promised his uncle. But

beyond all that, he intended to get into the root of the matter as well.

He already had the bird trapped in a cage. He would have it singing out the
truth in no time.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 20

A t the height of the Season, London never lacked for social events,
something that now seemed to Selina as both a blessing and a curse.
She needed something to divert her mind from intrusive thoughts of
William, and yet, she did not want to leave the confines of Trowbridge
Estate.

However, the Ladies of the aristocracy must find ways to amuse themselves
—whether it be in the company of their peers or by themselves. Besides, a
fine luncheon also provided an excellent venue to be apprised of the goings
on in other people’s households and their personal lives.

Thus, it was not an unusual sight for the young misses and their mamas to
flock to whoever sent an invitation in their most gaily colored frocks. What
was more unusual was to find the Dowager Viscountess of Stratford in
attendance, standing out most visibly in more appropriate garb of deep gray.

“Lady Stratford, I am glad to see you recovered,” Lady Gardiner smiled

widely at her.
The widow inclined her head in a rather graceful manner. “Thank you, Lady
Gardiner. My health has always been rather delicate.”

“Well, it is rather lovely to finally see you after missing your presence this
past few days…”

Standing just a short distance away and within earshot, Julia wrinkled her
nose in distaste as the ladies tried to outdo one another with their insincere
flattery. To her side, Mary shot her a warning glance, silently telling her to
hold her tongue.

“It is one thing to be audacious before men who will find you charming,”
the younger Lewis Miss reminded her sister. “It is a whole other thing to
offend ladies who are capable of tearing your reputation to shreds.”

The redhead only rolled her eyes. “Mary, I am not a complete imbecile, you
know.”

“Not exactly an imbecile, but you do like to court scandal, dear sister.”

“Not as much as the lovely Lady Stratford,” Julia snickered. “I would say
that she not only courts scandal, but she also appears to like to tempt fate
itself. I have it on good authority that the Duke has issued a warning to the
Earl of Thorne that if she does not cease her antics, he will resort to drastic
measures.”
Her younger sister frowned. “It seems that you are courting danger yourself
by dabbling in the business of the Duke. You know he is not a very lenient
person, nor a very patient one.”

“Come now, Mary. We all know the world would be far less exciting
without Julia in it,” Selina teased the sisters. “Besides, whatever would we
do for entertainment? The Duke would not be so mean-spirited as to
deprive us of that.”

The young ladies dissolved into giggles, the very picture of feminine
camaraderie as they paraded out into the gardens of the Fullerton estate.
Several other young ladies eyed them from the side—some with envy and
some with awe—for they did make quite the fetching sight.

“My dear, you must tell me your secrets sometime,” Julia remarked as they
sat down at one of the tables. “You are absolutely glowing! Would it
perhaps have something to do with a certain…” She let her sentence trail
off with a mischievous waggle of her brows.

Selina blushed, knowing full well she was referring to the Duke—William.

“We have been getting along rather well,” she demurred. Well enough to be
engaging in such illicit activities after dark…

“Oh, come off it!” the redhead scoffed. “Last night, everyone was talking
about how you have both been spied promenading at Bond Street and the
Park not once but twice! And then, there is also that matter of some very
expensive flowers making their way to Trowbridge Estate…”
The promenading and the flowers were the least of it. What she and
William had done could hardly be considered within the realm of propriety,
and her friends would be scandalized if they knew.

“I wonder what that idiot brother of yours will say when he finds out that
his best friend has swooped in to sweep you off your feet,” Julia snickered.
“Oh, I would love to see the look in his face then!”

And swept off her feet she was, for Selina felt that she had never known a
greater pleasure in her life than the one William had wrought on her body
three nights past—so much so that she had been craving his touch even in
her waking hours.

But Julia had a rather good point in that Andrew would be absolutely livid
if he was to find out about the…relationship between Selina and his best
friend—if it could even be called that. William had never put a name to
whatever it was they shared, but she was pretty sure they were courting…

“He…does know about this, does he not?” Mary asked Selina hesitantly to
which she could only shake her head.

“It happened so quickly that I never got the chance to tell him,” she
admitted. “And what am I supposed to tell him, really?”
“Well, he will know soon enough. You know nothing can be kept secret
amongst the Ton,” Julia warned. “Even if he were to ensconce himself in
the darkest, remotest corner of this world…” Her eyes gleamed with ill-
concealed glee at the thought of her nemesis so very far from civilization.
“Although, I daresay that you will have to watch out for that brother of
yours, my dear. God only knows how much havoc he will wreak upon this
earth when he does find out.”

In all honesty, Selina felt that she ought to write to her brother about the
development between her and William, but what would she say to him
then?

Dearest brother, it is my greatest pleasure to inform you that the Duke of

Barrington and I are now courting…

Somehow, that seemed much too formal. Something that she would most
likely write to her father instead of her dear brother.

Dearest brother, I am happy to tell you that William and I are now
courting…

If Andrew read such words, to see her take such liberties as to call his best
friend in such an intimate manner, she feared that he would set fire to the
earth itself.

Were they even courting? William had not been specific about the details,
but she was quite certain they were…
She sighed inwardly. Really, there was no way to tell her brother without
invoking his extreme displeasure. Or wrath.

She felt a warm hand clasp hers reassuringly over the table, and she looked
up to find Mary smiling at her. “For what it is worth, he would react the
same way had it been any other suitor,” she said gently. “But I think it
would be best to consult with His Grace—should you wish to finally
apprise Lord Rowley of your relationship.”

Selina nodded. “Yes, I do think that is the best course of action.”

As always, Mary made the most sensible advice, being the most level-
headed amongst the three of them.

She would have to talk to William about it sometime. What he would have
to say about it remained to be seen, however.

With her other suitors, they would express their interest in pursuing a
courtship first, maybe call upon her a few times. William, it would seem,
liked to upend the protocol set by Society for gentleman suitors by going
straight to the matter, without any of the courtship rituals expected of him.

Not that she was complaining, no.

That was well and good enough for him, for he was a gentleman, and
Society was far more lenient with men in such matters than they were with
ladies—especially unmarried ladies such as herself.

She sighed and made a mental note to bring it up with him the next time she
saw him—that was, if she could ever manage to summon a coherent
thought in his presence, of course.

That man did possess the most annoying tendency to destroy all semblance
of logic she possessed!

Even now, all she could think of were his fierce kisses and those
wonderfully wicked fingers of his moving expertly over her secret flesh. A
young lady should not have such improper thoughts—most of all, not in a
gathering such as this!

And yet, it was all she could think about.

The only question was whether William himself felt the same way.

William looked out of the window of his study—the one that faced the
Trowbridge estate. He knew that Selina was not there, for she had gone out
that afternoon for a luncheon with other ladies at the Fullerton estate.

And he was foolishly counting down the hours till her return.
He had been of half the mind to drag her back into his rooms, wanting to
hear those soft, desperate moans from hers once more. Instead, he had had
to content himself with dancing just twice with her at a bloody ball with the
whole of London breathing down their necks.

Had it been any other woman, he would have taken her out for a quick stroll
in the gardens that night, but Selina was different. Selina deserved better
than a quick ravishing in the dark—although that thought had crossed his
filthy mind more than a couple of times.

Oh, the things he would do to her! Just the thought of it was enough for him
to harden in torturous desire…

But he would not ruin her reputation for the sake of satisfying his own
lustful desires.

Turning away from the windows, he strode back to his room, nodding curtly
at Davis on his way. As soon as he was alone in his private chambers, he
tore open his breeches to free his engorged manhood, hissing as his hand
fisted the length of it, imagining that it was Selina’s smaller hand holding
him, stroking him to completion.

He tilted his head back as he stroked his erection. One of these days, he
would teach her how to touch him, pleasure him…She was a wonderfully
quick study and so, so eager to learn…
How would it feel to have her soft, small hands wrapped around him? Or
that sweet mouth of hers engulfing him into its wet, warm depths?

He pumped himself faster until he came with a strained roar, his seed
spurting into the air.

William groaned as he swung his arm over his eyes. He had never touched
himself ever since he was an untried youth, never felt the need to seek
release so desperately that he would turn to his own hand to finish the job
himself.

But the mere thought of Selina was enough to spike his carnal desires, and
even then, even with his release, it had felt…hollow. Like there was
something missing.

He had even thought about turning to one of those many women in his
roster to fill his physical needs, lest he scared Selina with his fierce craving
for her—but the idea itself of another woman touching him had become so
repulsive that it was enough to dissuade him from even considering it.

He needed her. Desperately.

He just was not sure what she would think of it. Whether she was ready for
it.
His desires were not exactly…gentle. His methods might be appalling to
many, and they were not exactly what a young lady would fantasize about
in her boudoir when she was dreaming about her husband.

He was far more likely to scare her off.

And speaking of that, he knew that he could never marry her either. How
could he burden another person with what he had been carrying on his back
for two decades?

William ran his hand over his face, groaning in frustration. He knew he
should stop, keep his hands off her.

Keep well away from her.

He was going to break her, destroy her the way he had everything else in his
life.

Morris was right—he was venturing out into uncharted territory, and he
only risked ruining them both if he continued down this path.

But damn it, he had never wanted anything in his life more than the sound
of her moans or the sweet taste of her on his tongue. He could bury himself
in her, lose himself in her, and he knew deep down that he would still not be
satisfied.
He could consume her, and even then, it would not be enough. It would
never be enough.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 21

T he Jamison ball was not exactly well-attended, but it could not be

said that it was not a true success either. Lady Jamison had
married the Earl at the beginning of the Season, and as such, there were
those who flocked to the first ball she threw to spectate and speculate, as it
were.

Of course, much of it could also be attributed to the fact that the courtship
between the Earl and his new Countess had caused quite a stir in the
beginning of the Season, culminating in Lord Jamison obtaining a special
license to marry the then Miss Fulton. As everyone in the Ton knew, a
special license could only mean two things—it was either that the couple
were very much in love or that there was something absolutely scandalous
in the events surrounding the wedding in question.

Selina herself had always liked Miss Fulton, now Lady Jamison. She did
not mingle overmuch with the other young ladies who delighted in gossip
and the downfall of others, and she always treated her and her friends with
kindness. In all honesty, Selina genuinely wished that Lady Jamison had
found a love match for herself—no matter how rare it was within the Ton.
“Lady Selina! How lovely to see you here!”

Selina turned around to find the hostess herself beaming at her with a
twinkle in her striking gray eyes.

“I hope you are having a wonderful time, my dear,” the Countess smiled.

“Indeed, Lady Jamison. Thank you so much for having me over.”

A group of young ladies sailed past them with one of them sniffing
disdainfully at both Selina and Lady Jamison.

“Miss Cunningham does believe herself to be awfully above reproach, does

she not?” the Countess smiled gently. “Do not let them get to you, my dear.
They are only envious that you got to dance with the Duke of Barrington
although I believe—” She smiled mischievously at Selina. “—that this was
not the first time he has done so.”

Selina ducked her head, feeling the warmth creeping up her cheeks. “He
and my brother are rather close friends.”

“You do not need to explain yourself to me or anyone else for that matter,”
Lady Jamison replied easily. “His Grace does not feel the need to clarify
himself. Neither should you, for that matter. Let the wagging tongues talk
all they want.”
She glanced up at the Countess and found her smiling serenely. Her sudden
marriage had also caused tongues to wag, but it would appear that she had
found some peace in spite of all that.

Would Selina be able to find the same self-assurance with William?

“I will, however, tell you one thing,” Lady Jamison told her. “His Grace has
never before expressed such an interest in another woman. One could even
say that he disdains attending affairs like these.” She winked at Selina. “Not
even for Lady Stratford although she would like to believe otherwise.”

“Lady Stratford is a rather excellent woman,” Selina admitted.

“Not excellent enough for His Grace to ask her for a dance.” Lady Jamison
nodded at Selina. “I shall see to the other guests now, Lady Selina. I do
hope you will have a pleasant time tonight.”

“I most certainly will, Lady Jamison, courtesy of your hospitality.”

After the Countess left to attend to the other guests in the ball, Selina found
her eyes wandering over the ballroom until they rested upon a familiar
figure, and she smiled. He easily towered over all the other men—so much
so that in a ballroom full of people, it was nigh impossible to miss him.

“You are looking at the Duke again, I see,” Julia teased, nudging her at her
side. The lovely redhead’s cheeks were still flushed from the quadrille, and
in her hand was a glass of lemonade, obtained, no doubt, from yet another
one of her admirers.

Selina smile haplessly at her friend. “Is it that obvious?”

“Only to those of us with eyes,” the redhead rolled her eyes. “Which should
be this entire ballroom if you must know. I overheard Lord Morrison
wondering if he should ask you for a dance before His Grace claims another
one.”

They had already danced at the beginning of the ball. To dance another
would be implying something was going on between them. A third dance
would be nothing short of scandal.

“Lord Morrison has no cause to worry. The night is still young, and the ball
is still in full swing.”

“He would have cause to worry, indeed, if His Grace kept looking at him
the way he did Sir Cadbury earlier.”

Selina had danced with Sir David Cadbury earlier, and although the poor
man stammered through most of it, she had at least somehow enjoyed his
company.

“How…did he look at Sir Cadbury?” she hazarded to ask her friend.

“Like he was about to bring about the downfall of his entire house.” Julia
grinned at her. “And with Lord Vermont losing all his assets so suddenly, I
daresay no one is willing to try and test the theory that His Grace had
anything to do with it.”

Selina let out a choked laugh at that. “You make it sound like…like he is
some sort of monster!”

Her friend shot her a sideways glance. “I seem to recall that you thought the
same way not too long ago.”

“Well…that was before I discovered another side to him. Not all people are
inherently vile, you know.”

“A side that he only deigns to show to you—do you not find that puzzling?”

Selina fiddled with her reticule. “Not really, no.”

“He has never shown particular interest in another young lady before.
Certainly, he has never even danced with one although it would have been
expected of him.”

“He does do whatever he wants, does he not?” Selina smiled, feeling

greatly pleased that William had apparently not danced with anyone else but
her.
“And in the last ball, he danced twice with you,” Julia reminded her. “He
would have asked for a third dance if you had not reminded him that it
would be scandalous to do so.”

Selina recalled that he intended to do just that and how she had wanted him
to do so…if only it was not a great breach of etiquette and one that would
tempt all the gossips in London to descend on her head.

“So…” Julia waggled her eyebrows at her. “What is truly there between the
both of you?”

“I…” Selina felt the blush rising to her cheeks. “I do not think that it is
something that needs to be clarified and whatever…”

They had certainly never given a name to…whatever it was their

relationship was although Selina was fairly sure they were courting.

Besides, it was precisely as Lady Jamison told her—she needed not explain
the nature of their relationship to anyone else.

She looked up to find him looking intensely at her from the other side of the
ballroom and felt her lips easing into a smile.

Yes, this was all that mattered—William and she. No one else.
Selina let out a soft moan, her fingers clutching desperately at the lapels of
the midnight coat that he had worn to the Jamison ball while his fingers
worked into her folds, his teeth scraping the sensitized peak of her breast.
With every jolt of the carriage, he would press deeper into her until she felt
she would go mad with pleasure.

“William…” she moaned. “Oh, William…”

Just as she was about to reach her peak, his hand stilled, and she let out a
soft sound of protest. “No…”

She looked down to find him looking pointedly at her. “That should teach
you not to flaunt dancing with another man before me, Selina.”

This…this was about Sir Cadbury? She had only danced with the man once
and merely to be polite at that! Also, with the ambiguity surrounding their
relationship, she could not very well refuse other gentlemen, could she?

Truly, he was being ridiculous!

“William…” her voice came out with a tinge of a complaint. “You know it
would be impolite to refuse him.” She looked at him in surprise. “You
cannot possibly be…”

“I cannot possibly be what?”

She bit her lower lips and looked at him shyly. “Jealous?”

It was impossible to think of a man like William Gillingham being jealous

of another man, least of all one like Sir David Cadbury! It was so ridiculous
that she had to stifle her laughter at the notion—one that did not go by
unnoticed.

She felt his finger circle the center of her pleasure dangerously, and she
gasped.

“Oh, but I am jealous, My Lady,” he growled. “And not only do I find it an

extremely novel experience but one that I highly dislike as well.”

“You cannot be serious? Why would you be jealous of Sir Cadbury?”

“Careful, my dear. You do not want to mention another man’s name while
my hand is up your skirts.”

She flushed at his words. “Truly, you do not have to be so crude about it.
You cannot fault them for asking…They do not know that we…that we…”

He frowned at her. “That we are yet to declare what we have between us.”

Selina nodded. “And I do not want to be presumptuous by saying we are

courting or something…”
Although she was quite certain that they were.

“Selina.”

She looked up at him to find him looking at her, his eyes solemn.

“We are whatever you want to say we are.” His finger began to slowly trace
her slick folds, and she arched into him with a soft gasp. “If you say we are
courting, then we are courting.”

He punctuated the final two words by pressing into the center of her desire.

“We are…” she gasped, “courting…”

“Good.” He circled the button between her legs with a wicked grin, his
movements achingly slow. “And you will refrain from entertaining any
other suitors, will you not?”

She looked at him coyly from beneath her eyelashes. “I cannot say…ah!”

She was cut off when he pressed into her again, the pressure of it sending
jolts of sheer pleasure through her system. “William!”
It was a wail. A plea.

“Say it, sunbeam…” he coaxed her, his voice rough. “Say you will never
entertain another man again.”

She shook her head. “I shall…never…entertain…another…Oh, William!”

“Good,” he growled. “My name should be the only one coming out of your
lips when you are coming undone.”

Selina shuddered in relief as his fingers began to dance on her flesh once
more, their movements expertly designed to bring out the greatest pleasure
from her. It was like he was the virtuoso, and she was his violin, his
instrument.

His mouth clamped on her breast, and her fingers speared through his hair,
holding him anchored to her chest as her hips began to buck wildly from the
sensations that he was drawing out of her. She felt him suck the rigid peak
just as he pressed into her center, the mingling of pinpricks of pain and
intense pleasure pushing her over the edge. She opened her mouth in a
scream, only to be devoured by his kiss.

He continued to draw out the waves of her pleasure as she shuddered and
sobbed in his arms, his kiss swallowing the wanton sounds she had been
making.
When he finally released her, she was shaking in his arms. Almost gently,
he smoothed down her skirts, smirking when he saw that her hair was in
total disarray.

She rolled her eyes at the show of smug male satisfaction on his face.
Anyone with eyes would know what it was they had been doing in the
carriage or at least have an idea of it. Fortunately, it was rather late, and
there was hardly anyone still up when she returned to Trowbridge Estate.

Jeanne, though, could not help smiling slightly at the disheveled appearance
of her mistress.

“I…shall retire posthaste,” Selina muttered. “After a bath, of course.”

A giggle escaped the maid. “Of course, My Lady.”

When the maid left her alone, she could not help but shake her head and
smile at herself. William had admitted they were courting—had said as
much himself.

The Ton had also deduced as much.

Now, all that was left was to inform Andrew of it and hope to the high
heavens that he would take the news well—for her sake at the very least.
If there was anything she knew about her brother, it was that it would take
some time for him to get around to the idea that she was no longer the same
child that needed his protection. She was a grown woman, now.

She only hoped that he could learn to trust in her somewhat.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 22

I n the days that followed after their exchange in his carriage, Selina
felt as if she was walking on clouds. Even Julia and Mary had
commented on occasion that she had seemed a bit distracted—although in a
good way in that she was not moping and walking around with a
thundercloud hovering over her head.

She had told no one of the courtship between her and William, but word
does get around the Ton as it always did, and within less than a week, it was
the general consensus that the Duke of Barrington had fixed his interest on
Lady Selina Walford.

“You would not believe the sheer number of mamas who bemoaned the loss
of yet another eligible bachelor,” Julia told her over tea at the salon. “Why,
Mama herself heard it from at least five of them!”

“It is a wonder Lady Powell has not been so dismayed herself,” Selina
laughed.
“And that is because our mother is a rather wise woman,” Mary pointed out
dryly. “She knew that Julia and the Duke would be at each other’s throats
within a fortnight if they were to wed. And as for me,” she sniffed
delicately, “well, it could only make for an unhappy union as unlikely as it
may be. Neither of us would make a suitable match with the Duke, I’m
afraid.”

“Still, you know how everybody is,” Julia rolled her eyes. “Miss Benton had
declared she was fairly certain that His Grace was going to approach her
papa with a suit, and before that, Miss Harrington had been gloating that the
Duke spoke a whole sentence to her. Not to mention that we have not really
heard from Lady Stratford in all this.”

Selina could only shake her head at the silliness of it all. “I had no idea it
would be that bad…” she muttered, rubbing her temples.

“Are you jesting? Selina, His Grace is only considered this Season’s best
catch—although the most elusive one, I must say.”

“Yes, but nobody was like this when Lord Hadley proposed to Miss
Parkinson last Season, and there were many who had their hearts set on
him!”

And while one might think that with a gentleman setting his eye on a young
lady, it would serve as a deterrent, the mamas and debutantes only doubled
their efforts to garner his attention, oftentimes, bordering on the comical.
Lady Farthingale all but pushed her daughter into William’s path while on a
promenade at the Park. Miss Cambridge insisted on dedicating a song to
His Grace while casting longing glances at him. And then, there was Miss
Osbourne, who was bold enough to spill her lemonade on his coat and then
audaciously offered to help him change.

William had given her one look of complete and utter derision before
stomping off without another word. He came back to the ball with a new
coat, and Miss Osbourne was nowhere to be found.

Selina would later hear that the young lady had taken to bed with some
illness, no doubt at the urging of her father, Baron Osbourne, who regarded
her antics a blow to their good name.

“I am glad to see that you find my current situation entertaining,” the Duke
had groused on one of their morning rides. “I, however, fail to see what
makes it so funny.”

Selina smiled jauntily at him. “One cannot help but find it ridiculous how
they throw themselves at you—literally and figuratively.”

“I seem to recall,” he drawled, “that I did not find it amusing at all when
other men threw themselves at you, sunbeam.”

She flushed at the way he drew out his nickname for her, almost as if he
was caressing her with his voice.
“Well, I do trust you not to take notice of those young ladies,” she shot
back, “just as you should trust me with the…ah, male callers.”

Come to think of it, ever since William had all but staked his claim on her,
there had been a dreadful vacuum of male callers at Trowbridge Estate.
Aside from Julia and Mary, there had been only several other young ladies
and their mamas, and most of them were only eager to learn from her what
they supposed was the art of snagging a proposal from a duke.

“I trust you,” he said simply. “It is those men I do not trust.”

He was still rather furious about that time he had caught Lord Vermont
manhandling her in her own home. She could see his eyes harden, and she
reached out to gently touch his arm. In an instant, she saw his gaze warm by
a few degrees, the transition making her heart flutter wildly in her chest.

She could only sigh inwardly, for nearly everything he did had such an
effect on her that it was almost embarrassing.

“Just be…a little nicer,” she advised him. “There is no need to resort to acts
of violence.”

“Some require a little more persuasion,” he replied with an unrepentant

gleam in his deep blue eyes. “And then there are those who need a
demonstration.”
She wrinkled her nose delicately at that statement. She had no doubt that
the lines between his methods of persuasion and his demonstration were
rather blurred. She supposed she should be thankful he had not called out
anybody yet although he had probably considered that on occasion.

Just as her brother would if he learned of their courtship.

Thoughts of Andrew always sobered her up. She truly did miss her brother,
even with his most annoying, overprotective spiels, but on the other hand,
she also knew that had he been around, she and William might never have
gotten together with Andrew’s interference.

“What do you think we should tell Andrew?” she asked him quietly. “I…
have not written to him about our courtship yet. I thought I should ask you
before—”

“You tell him whatever you want to tell him,” he told her firmly. “I shall
take care of the rest. You need not worry overmuch about it.”

His words settled like a warm blanket over her. He always had a way of
making her feel safe, as if his presence was already protection enough.

She beamed up at him as they continued down Rotten Row in

companionable silence although she would occasionally point out
something to him. Selina found that while William preferred not to talk, he
did not disdain her chatter. Sometimes, she even had a feeling that he kind
of liked it.
For her part, she found that she liked this—just being with him and not
saying much at all. It brought a peaceful quality to her mornings that she
had learned to cherish.

The thought made her smile and inwardly shake her head. They had barely
started courting, and she was already settling into his company like they
were an old married couple. It was something she never quite imagined for
herself and certainly not with William.

They had gotten almost to the end of their usual route, her heart feeling
heavy that their time together this morning was coming to an end.

“You are looking rather glum, sunbeam,” he remarked. “I seriously hope

that you are not resenting my company this morning.”

She laughed and shook her head. “On the contrary, I am quite sad that it
must come to an end so soon—”

The words died in her throat when she saw someone else coming up to
them at the end of Rotten Row.

It was Lady Stratford.

When William saw the familiar figure astride a palomino horse, his eyes
reflexively narrowed. He urged Hades to stand between Selina and Lady
Stratford, his spine rigid as he surveyed her.

The Dowager Viscountess smiled feebly at the sight. “Come now, Your
Grace. Surely you did not think that a mere woman like me could do
anything to Lady Selina.”

He did not even deign to reply. Any other gentleman might have been lulled
into believing her, but William was one who had learned not to trust the
words of others. People often say one thing and do something else entirely
different, especially the members of the Ton.

“It is a rather beautiful day, is it not, Lady Selina?” Lady Stratford craned
her neck to smile at the Selina, whom he had been shielding behind his
broad back. “It is a shame that His Grace thinks you so weak as to need his
protection even from a little morning sunlight. I heard it does wonders for
one’s constitution.”

“I must defer to Lady Stratford’s knowledge on what is best for one’s

constitution,” Selina answered gently. “It is you, after all, who has had more
experience in caring for the ill.”

William could not help the proud smile that quirked in the corner of his lips
at her quick remark. His little sunbeam might be gentle and warm on most
occasions, but she certainly had a sharp tongue to her—one that he relished
witnessing in action.
Lady Stratford stiffened at the insinuation but managed to smile pointedly
in their direction. “Indeed, I do possess a great deal more experience, do I
not?”

“One would say it could be a blessing or a curse, My Lady.”

Women might exchange veiled barbs for hours on end, but William had no
patience for such and even less for Lady Stratford. He laid a hand on
Selina’s shoulder, urging her to look at him.

“Come now, Selina. It is getting rather late,” he told her. She nodded up at
him, and he urged Hades to breeze past Lady Stratford with Selina trailing
after him on Aurora.

“A pleasant morning to you, Lady Stratford,” he heard her say cheerfully

and nearly broke out into a wide grin. It would seem that his little sunbeam
could not resist getting in the last word.

From the corner of his eyes, he could see Lady Stratford absolutely fuming
at the sight of the both of them riding off together. If her hands had not been
in riding gloves, he would have probably seen her knuckles whiten as they
clutched at the reins in anger.

Once they were out of sight and earshot, he leaned over to Selina and
whispered, “What a vicious little spitfire you are.”
He took delight in the little shudder that ran through her, the soft gasp that
escaped her lips as he allowed his warm breath to fan at the sensitive shell
of her ear.

“True,” she murmured, casting him a jaunty look, an eyebrow quirked at

him. “But you appear to enjoy it as well, did you not?”

He grinned at her. “More than you could ever know, sunbeam.”

As soon as they got off their horses, he snaked an arm around her waist and
pulled her close, breathing in deeply the fragrance of her hair. Bloody
damn, but she smelled absolutely delicious, and it was all he could do not to
devour her right where she stood.

“It seems to me,” he said in a low voice, “that there is some degree of
pleasure to be found when a lady about half my size flashes out her claws to
defend me.”

The peal of her laughter was even more melodious than the birdsong that
filled the morning air. “Do you enjoy watching ladies fight over you, Your
Grace?”

“Only half of it,” he replied with an unrepentant grin. “Your opponent was
not worth the attention.”
As she shot him a satisfied grin, William found that making her smile and
laugh was a much better pastime than anything else he could come up with.
Perhaps it would be a worthy effort to expend a little more time and effort
into it.

It was all a matter of prioritization after all, and William was a man who
had his priorities in order, did he not?

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 23

M usic and laughter wafted from the ballroom when Selina arrived
in the Wentworth ballroom. However, after the footman
announced her arrival, a strange hush fell across the crowded room, and she
was keenly aware of the many pairs of eyes that suddenly swiveled her way.

Confused, she made her way down the stairs, hoping to maybe see Julia or
Mary amongst the crowd. Perhaps they would be able to apprise her as to
why everyone was acting so oddly around her…

Instead of the Lewis sisters, however, a tall, broad-shouldered man with the
face of a fallen angel was waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs. His
expression remained impassive, and she would have thought him humorless
if she had not seen the merriment lurking in his deep blue eyes.

“A dance, Lady Selina?” he asked her, smooth and urbane and filled with
the arrogance that was inherent in a man of his stature.

“Your Grace,” she smiled demurely at him, fluttering her eyelashes just the
slightest bit. “If I had not known better, I would have assumed that you
were waiting for me.”

“You assume correctly.”

The nervousness in her dissipated slightly as she let out a giggle. “Have you
enjoyed your time with Miss Covington? Or Lady Sedgwick?”

“Selina,” he said in a deep, warning tone that never failed to make her
breath hitch in her throat, “I would love it if you restrained from having fun
at my expense. I have spent the better part of my time awaiting your tardy
appearance by dancing with Lady Darnell, Lady Foster, and Lady Melvin—
each one of them of unimpeachable character—just so no one else will say
a damned thing when I finally dance with you.”

A choked laugh bubbled up in her throat. “I suppose a dance is the least I

can do for you, Your Grace.”

“At this point, you should owe me three dances, I believe.”

“Three?” she gaped up at him. “One is merely being polite. Two means you
are showing me a distinct partiality. Three?” She shook her head. “Three is
begging for scandal and ruination.”

“Which is why we shall stick to two,” he replied and then leaned just the
slightest bit forward to whisper in her ear. “But you shall owe me still, and
you already know how I am—I always collect on debts.”
“Don’t you think you might be able to make an exception for me?”

Their conversation was cut short when an older couple approached them.
Lord and Lady Wentworth, the host and hostess for the ball, smiled at both
of them although much of their congeniality was directed to the Duke.

“Your Grace, Lady Selina, it is our pleasure to have you both attend our
ball,” Lady Wentworth said in a saccharine tone. “I do hope you both have a
lovely time in our humble abode.”

There was nothing humble about the Wentworth estate at all. It was simply
one of the most lavish estates in London, and the Marquess and
Marchioness were forever proclaiming that to anybody who would care to
listen. Maybe even to those who did not care at all—William chief amongst
them.

However, Selina could not tell that to their hosts’ faces, so she smiled at
Lady Wentworth. “I am sure that we will find much delight in this ball,
Lady Wentworth. Everything looks absolutely exquisite.”

The older woman gave her an odd smile before she went on what appeared
to be the beginning of a long-winded narration of just how much effort and
money went into the preparations for the ball.
“I shall be happy to assist you, my dear, should it be time for you to prepare
your own balls and soirees,” the Marchioness added with a suggestive
smile.

Selina stiffened at the offhand remark. “I shall remember your kind offer,
Lady Wentworth.”

Moments later, they finally made their way to the dance floor after a
detailed description of the flowers Lady Wentworth had sourced for the
ball. Selina was certain she already knew so much about flowers that she
could open a new shop of them. William merely looked extremely bored.

“You know that was a very informative discussion,” she giggled as they
bowed to each other.

“Yes, absolutely riveting.” Derision was clear in his voice. He looked at her,
and there was a hint of uncertainty in his eyes, something that Selina had
never expected from him at all. “Do you like flowers, though?”

She threw him a mischievous grin over her shoulder. “I like the ones you
sent me well enough.”

“Just like?”

Selina rolled her eyes at him. “Of course, I absolutely adore them! I love
them.”
I love you, she wanted to tell him although she was unsure if he would take
kindly to that declaration at all. He did not seem like the kind of man given
to dramatic displays of affection.

Before the quadrille had ended, word had circulated around the ballroom
that the Duke of Barrington had sent Lady Selina Walford flowers, and she
was unsure if she liked them at all.

“Perhaps His Grace selected the wrong flowers?” Lady Claremont mused
with a tight smile.

“Preposterous! You know how thorough the Duke of Barrington is—he

would not likely make such a simple mistake,” another Miss tittered.
“Perhaps Lady Selina just means to say that she would appreciate more of
them.”

Selina nearly spat out her lemonade when she learned of it from Julia.
“Why would I think that?”

Her friend only rolled her eyes in her typical fashion. “Heaven only knows
how their minds work, dearest. The simplest logic evades them, and then
they go through these fantastical loops, spinning yarn after yarn of complete
and utter nonsense!”
“I suppose you would know better, having been the object of their
conversations yourself.”

“And I have long given up on trying to make heads or tails of how they
come to such conclusions,” the redhead sighed dramatically. “Oh, look—
Lady Stratford has arrived.”

Selina inclined her head to peek at the Dowager Viscountess, who had
arrived in her usual mourning gray clothes. However, there was a decadent
display of amethyst around her neck, the extravagance only serving to
highlight the creamy skin of her chest. More amethyst gleamed from her
carefully coiffed auburn locks. If she had not been dressed in gray, one
would never have thought that she was still in mourning.

“Her boldness truly is…something else,” Mary remarked, her soft voice
barely making ripples as she joined Selina and Julia. “That amethyst
necklace was a gift from the late Viscount. Her affection for her late
husband is a thing of admiration.”

Selina smiled wryly at her friend’s observations. There were many who had
written Mary off as a wallflower with nothing of note to say. They could not
have been more wrong, though, for the youngest daughter of the Earl of
Powell had a sharp wit and a way of expressing it in a way that made so
many underestimate her.

“Yes, we must all aspire to that level of wifely devotion,” Julia smirked. “I
heard that she followed you down Rotten Row this morning.”
“I would not exactly call it following,” Selina hedged. “We just happened to
be riding down the same path, I suppose.”

“Well, you better watch your back with that one.” Julia lifted her chin in the
direction of the young Dowager Viscountess, who now allowed Lord
Chauncey to lead her out into the dance floor. “She is a tenacious bit, and I
do not think she is one to give up so easily.”

“I suppose not…”

Julia was right—the Earl of Thorne might have deterred his daughter for a
short while, but it was perhaps only a matter of time before she would be
back on the battlefield. It had only been a few days since she had taken to
her bed with an illness, but she now looked to be in the peak of health.

“Well, do not fret, dearest,” her friend reassured her with a sympathetic pat
of her gloved hand. “I am certain that His Grace will take care of this matter
swiftly.”

“You meant to say that I will be able to defend myself adequately, right?”
Selina felt a little piqued at her best friend’s lack of trust in her capabilities.

“Of course. But is it not much more entertaining to have them do all this
work for us?”
Selina nearly choked on her laughter while Mary could only sigh at her
older sister’s rather mischievous reply. “This is why Mama worries for you,
sister dear,” she murmured.

“Why, she worries about you just as well. Just the other day, I saw that she
had compiled a list of suitable young men for you.”

Mary flushed a deep red. “Suitable for Mama, yes. For me, not so much.”

“Do not fret so much, Mary, dear,” Selina reassured her. “I believe that you,
too, will find a suitable match and that he will make you incredibly happy
as you deserve to be.”

The younger Lewis sister flushed a little and muttered a shy, “Thank you.”

“Now, chin up a little, so everyone can see that pretty face of yours.”

Mary gave her an exasperated smile. “Well, that would be an exercise in

futility as the Ton has already written me off as a wallflower, you know.”

“Well, you can give them a reason to change their mind,” Selina persisted.
She had always thought Mary to be quite pretty in that shy, unassuming
way of hers. Amidst the brightly dressed young ladies of the Ton, her friend
was like a fresh flower blooming without a shred of artifice.
It was a pity that most of the young gentlemen preferred their hothouse
flowers over the rarer varieties.

However, she was certain that a man of discerning tastes—for truly, only an
exceptional man could match with Mary—would be able to see beyond all
that.

“Thank you, Selina,” Mary laughed softly. “But for now, I think I shall stick
to my wall. I rather like the comfort it brings me.”

“As long as it makes you happy, dearest.”

The young lady smiled simply. “But I am happy.”

Perhaps she truly was. Mary had never expressed the slightest bit of envy
when gentlemen flocked to her older sister’s side or even when the Duke
appeared to show Selina his partial attention.

Perhaps there truly were some who were content with their lives on the
fringes of the ballroom, away from the dazzling light of the chandelier.

And yet, Selina could not help but marvel at the soft, gentle radiance her
friend possessed.
Selina smiled and then craned her neck just a little to search for William,
which was not such an arduous task for he was rather tall. Her heart
fluttered in her chest when she finally caught sight of him, only for it to
crash to Lady Wentworth’s exquisitely tiled floor when she saw him
walking out of the ballroom with Lady Stratford by his side.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 24

“I thought I had advised you against doing something that displeases

me so.”

William glared down at the young woman before him. Lady Stratford was
indeed pleasant to look at, and for a while, he had enjoyed her company. He
had initially thought her an agreeable woman, one who seemed quite
amenable to the terms of their agreement.

He would not make that same mistake again. He could see her clearly now
for what she truly was—a malicious and cunning woman with a taste for
avarice. Coupled with her tenacity, he might have admired those traits if she
was not so intent on forcing herself on him.

Now, he only felt disgust for her as she looked up to him with pleading
eyes.

“William,” she said in a broken voice, “have you truly hardened your heart
towards me?”
“I would like it if you did not refer to me so informally, Lady Stratford,” he
replied coldly. “What we had was a mutual agreement, nothing more.”

“An agreement?” she sobbed, tears streaming down her beautiful face. “My
God, you truly are as cruel as they say!”

“I am glad that you have finally opened your eyes to the truth, My Lady.”

To his surprise, she broke out into a fit of giggles. “I just find it unnerving,
Your Grace.” She spat out his title as if it left a bitter taste on her tongue.
“How you can pretend to be so solicitous towards Lady Selina. Does she
know what you are? What you truly are?”

William had never felt the keen desire to throttle a woman before, but Lady
Stratford was proving to be a tempting first. It seemed that she was
determined to rile him up at every turn and not in a good way.

“Does she know how you threatened my father with ruination?” Lady
Stratford gleefully cackled. “How you would make sure that my family
would never be able to show their face in London? My sister is yet
unmarried, but you would heartlessly destroy our family, and for what?”

His eyes were like chips of cold ice as he glared at her. “I warned your
father because he seemed a far more reasonable person to talk to compared
to his daughter.”
She flinched visibly at the coldness in his words.

“I warned him,” he continued in a silky, ominous tone, “out of

consideration for our previous understanding. You should know that there
are not very many who would get the same generosity from me.”

“Oh? Like Lord Vermont and Darren Hyland?” she spat out derisively. It
seemed that if she could not be with him, Lady Stratford was quite willing
to burn all bridges between them.

Very well, he was not going to be a difficult man.

“I have heard enough, Lady Stratford. I shall take my leave of you now,” he
told her, his features an emotionless void. “Good night.”

He turned to the door when she screamed and launched herself at him. “No!
You must know how much I love you, Your Grace—you cannot leave me
like this!”

Love? This was not love—it was madness. Lady Stratford was the very
picture of insanity!

He stepped back, away from her reach. If she ever caught him, he would
have to pry her fingers off of him, and he wanted nothing to do with her—
not her touch or screaming or tears. In short, Lady Stratford had tried his
patience for the last time.

“I highly advise you to retire early tonight, Lady Stratford,” he said in a

scathing voice. “You are clearly overwrought.”

Without another word, he strode out of the room, closing the door firmly
behind him. The faint strains of a waltz wafted into the corridors, and he
hastened back to the ballroom. Almost immediately, he craned his neck,
looking for Selina amongst the crowd.

“Looking for me?” a teasing voice asked him.

He turned around to find her smiling up at him. Unlike her other smiles,
however, her lips appeared a little too tight, her posture a little too stiff. He
could see the displeasure lurking in her eyes.

She had seen them, he realized, and she was…not happy. She just was not
about to show it yet.

Lady Stratford could seriously learn a thing or two from Selina as to how to
manage one’s emotions. And she even had the audacity to call her
inexperienced. Perhaps she was a little bit green, yes, but she reacted with
far more maturity than the Dowager Viscountess.

Calmly, he tucked Selina’s hand into his arm. “Your next dance is mine.”
She raised an eyebrow in defiance. “That would make it the second dance.”

“That it would.”

“And then you would not be able to dance with me for the rest of the night,”
she reminded him primly. She pursed her lips. “There are still a few more
hours before the night ends.”

Which meant that he would have to watch other gentlemen approach her
and ask her for a dance—but not if he had any say in the matter. They
would not dare to do so in his presence.

He leaned down and whispered in her ear, “I can keep you occupied until
then, sunbeam.”

Seeing the delectable pink spots that appeared on her cheeks, he felt his
irritation with Lady Stratford dissipate. It was absolutely ridiculous how
Selina could change his mood so quickly.

“You cannot do that,” she complained, exasperation leaking into her tone.

He arched an eyebrow. “Cannot do what?”

“That—that thing you keep doing,” she hedged. The beginnings of a pout
were beginning to form on her luscious lips. Any other woman would have
looked childish, but not Selina—oh no, she just looked adorable.

And all the more tempting.

William clenched his free hand into a fist and forced himself to relax. It was
almost infuriating how she had absolutely no idea how she had him tied up
into knots.

“I shall need you to be a little more specific than that,” he told her. His
voice remained neutral although there was a trace of merriment in his blue
gaze.

As he led her to the dance floor, he caught sight of Lady Stratford

reentering the ballroom. Although there was a brilliant smile on her face,
her complexion looked slightly ashen. When she raised her eyes to his, he
saw something else in them that made him frown.

Something that looked a lot like resentment.

The next morning, it was said that the Earl of Thorne had been seen making
an early trip to Rowley House but had been unable to get past the front door
of the Duke of Barrington’s current residence in London. The old Earl had
looked thoroughly distressed, but the butler was as impassive as a brick
wall. In fact, poor Lord Thorne might as well have bashed his head against
a brick wall for all that mattered.

There was speculation that it had something to do with the matter of Lady
Stratford. Or it could have been some important business matters.

Whatever it was, Selina felt that it was none of her business at all to
interfere with the matters of gentlemen as she and her friends enjoyed the
early morning sun, promenading down Hyde Park.

“It would seem that the friendship between Lord Thorne and His Grace is
now ended,” Julia sighed, idly twirling her parasol. “Pity, that one. I heard
that it was one of the most profitable business partnerships…”

Mary shot her sister an exasperated look, and she shook her head. “His
Grace has a great many businesses. We must not look into these things so
much. It is none of our business, after all.”

The redhead angled her neck to glance at Selina. “What think you of this,
Selina?”

“I would not dare speculate too much on these things,” she said carefully.

“Are you not both courting?” Julia mused. “Perhaps, it does have something
to do with Lady Stratford…”
Selina could only duck her head to hide the blush that had spread across her
cheeks. William had indeed confirmed that they were courting, but he had
yet to say anything to her father or her brother.

“Perhaps it has nothing to do with Lady Stratford at all,” Mary interjected

quietly. “Look.”

They followed her line of sight to where Lady Stratford was happily
strolling down the park in her usual mourning garb, surrounded by other
ladies of the Ton. As if she knew that she was the subject of their
conversation, she looked up at Selina and her friends, stiffening briefly,
before regarding them with a polite smile.

“Perhaps whatever it is, it is merely business between gentlemen after all,”

Selina murmured. It would be wise to keep her nose out of such things.

Julia did not look too convinced although she did not say anything more on
the matter and happily began discussing how she had narrowly evaded
another proposal from a poor, besotted gentleman.

“One of these days, there will be a duel fought over you,” her younger sister
warned her. “Julia, you really have to be more careful.”

Selina smiled as she twirled her parasol a little. Should that time come, she
was certain that her friend would be able to handle it as she always did.
She glanced back to where Lady Stratford and her friends were. She was
unnerved to find that the Dowager Viscountess staring straight at her with a
little smile on her lips that was neither polite nor friendly.

In her heart, she hoped that the speculations swirling about Lord Thorne
and his daughter had nothing to do with her at all. Still, she knew she had
best be careful, for if there was anything else that was abundant in Society,
it was intrigue—even when one did not have the taste for it.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 25

L ord Gillingham visited Rowley House again, and William was

beginning to feel irritated that his uncle had perhaps decided that this
was the way he wanted to spend the rest of his years after he had handed
over the management of the estates and businesses over to his nephew.

Still, he motioned for Davis to bring a box of his uncle’s favorite cigars
over to the drawing room while he idly toyed with a half-full glass of
brandy.

Lord Gillingham had begun to look progressively worse over the course of
his numerous visits to Rowley House, so much so that William had begun
to think that his uncle had begun to adopt a sleepless routine not unlike his.
Smoking never did any good to a man, but he had already told his uncle
that. He had no desire to repeat himself unnecessarily when he knew that
the older man was only going to ignore his advice.

Besides, Lord Gillingham had already lived a long life—much longer than
his brother, in fact—and had perhaps earned the right to enjoy the
remainder of it as he saw fit.
“I heard that you turned the Earl of Thorne away when he called on you
yesterday.”

William did not even look up from his brandy. “He had nothing to say that
would interest me,” he said in a bored drawl.

“And what about other business matters?”

“He has more need of me than I of him,” William shrugged. “It matters not
to me whatever steps he wishes to take.”

“And his daughter?”

His uncle had made no secret of the fact that he had favored a match
between William and Lady Stratford before she was engaged to wed her
husband, the late Viscount. No doubt, Lord Thorne himself thought highly
of that notion, and since Lady Esther was openly enamored with him, it had
seemed like a very good match indeed.

But William had dashed all their hopes when he told them that he had no
intention to marry, and he had no plans of taking a wife, so the Earl had
given his daughter instead to the ancient Viscount of Stratford, who, by
then, was already so old that he hardly ventured beyond the confines of his
estate.
To the surprise of the Ton, Lady Esther did not fight against the match, and
in a little over a year, she had become a rather wealthy widow. All in all, it
seemed like the sort of favorable business arrangement that was not
uncommon in members of the aristocracy.

William’s only mistake had been a brief liaison with the Dowager
Viscountess. She had assured him that she understood the terms of their
agreement and accepted it. He had had no problems with her when it came
to an end either—none of the theatrics that heartbroken women were wont
to resort to as a kind of emotional blackmail.

She had only begun to become so troublesome after Andrew left his sister
in his care.

“Lady Stratford and I have nothing to do with each other besides a passing
acquaintance,” he told his uncle in an icy tone.

Lord Gillingham gave him a pointed look, his cigar twitching in his hand
just the slightest bit. The older lord smiled and nodded wordlessly. He took
a long drag of the cigar in his hand and exhaled, the smoke spiraling out of
his mouth in lazy tendrils. When he had been a boy, William had thought
his uncle looked like a lazy dragon when he smoked like that.

Now, he looked the very picture of an old lord rusticating in his rural estate,
puffing lazily away.

Except that he was in the drawing room in Rowley House, and William was
finding that he did not really care for the stench of cigar smoke that lingered
even after all the guests had gone.

“Persistent woman, that one,” his uncle chuckled. “I heard she still bothers
you on occasion.”

“I have already taken care of it.” He was already beginning to tire of his
uncle’s constant interference in his personal affairs. With so much free time
on his hands, it would seem that the older man had taken to pastimes that
were more suited to a meddlesome dowager than that of a wealthy, old lord.

Lord Gillingham nodded and resumed puffing on his cigar in silence once
more. Both uncle and nephew fell into a more comfortable, companionable
silence between them.

Growing up with his uncle, William had never been given much to
conversation, and the older man had respected that. He wondered why Lord
Gillingham now insisted on visiting him frequently, always at this hour at
night, but his uncle had always been odd by the standards of the Ton, and he
had become odder still when he finally withdrew from attending many of
the social events.

Much later on in that night, when his uncle had left for his townhouse, he
had Hutchins quietly summoned to his study. The scarred man had no such
complaints, even with the late hour—His Grace had kept him on a generous
retainer and much of his work was truly done in the cover of darkness,
anyway.

“Any news?” he asked softly.

“Your Grace, the man is already in our custody, but he is proving rather
difficult to crack.”

A pregnant pause. “What does he want?”

Money? Hired criminals were always in want of more.

Protection? It was only natural for men of his ilk to have made many
enemies.

William could offer him both. Even more.

“He has not said anything.” Hutchins’s grin in the firelight was terrifying.
“Yet.”

The methods he employed were not for the faint of heart, and William was
quite familiar with most of them. He would get the answers he sought. He
always did.

Their man simply had to choose whether he wanted to do it the easy way or
forgo all that for a more difficult road.
All he really had to do was cooperate, but it would seem that the man was
holding on for a better offer. No matter, William was already prepared to
deal with such an occurrence. Hired criminals were forever on the lookout
for a better offer.

Very well…he was simply going to make the man an offer he could not
possibly refuse.

Meanwhile, in the Trowbridge Estate, Selina found that sleep was not
coming to her as easily as it did the previous nights. She tossed and turned
about until the covers were all wrinkled from her restlessness.

And then, she stared up at the canopy above her, squinting as she tried to
count the flowers intricately embroidered into the fabric.

Any other night, she might have considered going to William…or even
sending him another note. A little scandalous, that one, considering the
hour, but they were courting after all. And it was not like the other members
of the Ton did not engage in such titillating flirtations…

But then, he had sent her a missive through a trusted footman earlier that
she was not to come to Rowley House or send him a missive. Selina had
frowned at that, her curious nature all the more piqued at the notion of
being told to stay away.
And what was with that footman, anyway? He had such a terrifying scar
over his eye, but the sight of him in livery was a truly comical sight.

Hutchins, she recalled. He had said his name was Hutchins.

It was like watching a bear forced into ribbons and petticoats. Truly
ridiculous.

There was also that matter with Lady Stratford in the park. She could not
quite make out what that smile the Dowager Viscountess gave her meant.
Like a predator gauging its prey, sizing it up to see if it was up to the task of
sating its voracious appetite.

Selina bristled at the thought of that. “If she means to do something

outrageous, she cannot fault me for fighting back,” she muttered as she
turned over on her pillow yet again.

She might be incredibly beautiful, the Dowager Viscountess, and more

worldly. Probably more well-versed in the private affairs of men and
women, having been married before…but that did not mean that Selina was
just going to roll over and let her walk all over her like that!

“One would think that she would have more to say to the Duke,” she
scoffed. “But then again, I am not going to be underestimated! I will show
her just what I am made of…”
If William had seen her, he would have no doubt found it amusing. It galled
her to think that there were times he probably regarded her as a little
immature. Like a child trying to look big and scary when it was merely
throwing a tantrum.

If Andrew could see her now, her older brother would no doubt have a good
laugh at her expense, maybe even chide her for getting so worked up about
a man.

Well…maybe not so much. Andrew never liked the idea of her with any
suitor. Julia had once remarked that her brother probably wanted her to
become a spinster—a rather alarming thought, that one, but not without
basis.

And speaking of her brother, she had yet to inform her of her courtship with
his best friend. No doubt, he would be absolutely livid over it. Might even
regard it as a breach of trust, seeing as he had left her—Selina—in the care
of said best friend in his absence.

“Well, he should have known better than to entrust his sister to a rake,” she
muttered to herself as she turned again. “He should have known that no
woman had been born to resist the charms of William Gillingham.”

Even Lady Stratford was not impervious to his charms, and by all accounts,
she was a rather worldly woman. Now, she was shooting threatening glares
at Selina and endangering the already fragile relationship of her family with
the Duke of Barrington.
Some would call her silly to do so. The bonds of the Ton were, after all,
forged by business partnerships and marriages that seemed a lot like
business transactions.

Lady Stratford was bold enough to throw all cares to the wind for love.

Selina sighed as she stared up at the canopy once more. She really had to
say something to her brother. She had already felt a little guilty when he
sent her a rambling letter, detailing his exploits in Greece and Italy, and all
she could muster were lackluster responses regarding the Season. As if
Andrew cared what she wore to this ball and that soirée!

William had told her not to worry too much about it, that he would take care
of it. That she should just tell Andrew whatever she felt like saying and
leave the finer details to him.

But what else could she tell him, really? How could she tell him what her
heart had been bursting to let him know without ruining his friendship with
William?

She groaned and drew her arm over her eyes. A conundrum if there ever
was one!

She would have to talk to William about it. Their best option would be to
present a united front—one that her brother would have no choice but to
accept.
“Perhaps…” Her eyelids were feeling a little heavy already.

Perhaps tomorrow…at the Webster ball…

Those were her last thoughts before blessed slumber finally claimed her.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 26

F or most of her life, Mary Lewis had been content to stay by the
sidelines, idly watching the rest of the world whirl past her. It was
an interesting position, to be sure, and one she enjoyed immensely. One
could even say that she took a ridiculous amount of pleasure in just
observing the people as they moved and drifted past her.

Unlike, of course, her older sister, Julia, who had to be the center of
everything.

She smirked at that. No two sisters were ever as dissimilar as the two of
them, but for all her sister’s faults and audaciousness, Mary truly loved her
older sister and hoped she would find someone who was a true match for
her.

Someone like…

Her eyes strayed to the dance floor where she saw their best friend, Selina,
dancing with the Duke of Barrington. She was beaming up at him, a smile
of pure, radiant joy on her face. He was looking down at her with a much
less somber face than the rest of the Ton were accustomed to seeing.

“I never thought I would see the day when His Grace looking less than
murderous at anyone,” a mischievous voice quipped.

Mary tilted her head at her sister, who had just arrived with a glass of weak
lemonade in hand. “They look happy.”

“Ridiculously so,” Julia snorted. “Anyone who says they are not courting
has to be deaf, blind, and stupid.”

Mary could only smile weakly at her sister’s words, but then, she saw Julia
smile fondly in the direction of the couple.

“He makes her happy, and she obviously has a good effect on him, too. A
perfect match, indeed.”

“I thought you had your cap set out for the Duke yourself,” she remarked.

“Oh goodness, no!” Julia chortled. “Can you imagine what would happen if
that were so? We would be at each other’s throats within a fortnight.”

Mary frowned when her older sister sprayed a bit of lemonade on her sage
green frock. She took out a handkerchief from within her reticule and did
her best to wipe off the results of her sister’s shocked exclamation.

“Well, Selina did not like him all that much either,” she pointed out. “And
His Grace—well, he never really liked anybody. Now, look at them both.”

Julia raised an eyebrow at her sister. “Are you insinuating something, Mary
dear?”

But the younger Lewis only shook her head. “Not really. All I am saying is
that maybe it would take someone to match your spirit, you know.”

Julia nodded, a smile slowly spreading across her face as realization

dawned on her. “A worthy opponent, you mean. Yes, that I can imagine. It
would make for some fun times indeed.”

“Well, one must keep you on your toes, sister. We cannot have you doing it
all by yourself all the time.”

Her flame-haired sister regarded her with an odd look, one with a hefty
dose of admiration. “And who might you think would be an excellent match
for me?”

“Why,” Mary grinned at her, “the Earl of Rowley, of course.”

“The Earl of—” Julia sputtered. “Are you jesting? Why him of all people?”
“Well, he seems to be the only one who can stand up to you—”

“That is because he does it on purpose. He means to antagonize me to

death!”

“—and you are the only one who dares antagonize him,” Mary concluded.

“That is because he deserves to be knocked down a peg or two!”

She gave her sister a skeptical glance. “And you alone are up to the task?”

“Naturally.”

Mary grinned widely at her sister. Checkmate. “My point precisely, sister
dear.”

“Why, you—” Julia stared at her sister in shock and then burst out laughing.
“It is a good thing, then, that he is not around, lest I fall simpering at his
feet!”

Mary simply shrugged delicately. “It could be you. It could be him. But that
is just my thoughts on the matter. In fact, who knows? You might even find
your match in someone else before the Earl returns to London.” She smiled
mischievously at her sister. “You better hurry, then. If Lord Rowley gets
word of the courtship of our dear Selina, he could be back sooner.”

Julia let out an indignant huff, and Mary watched as she stomped off in the
general direction of the crowd, smiling a bit to herself, right before she
disappeared into the wall.

Nobody ever noticed the wallflower, but she saw a lot of things from her
vantage point a little bit away from the maddening crowd. She found that
she rather liked it that way.

“You must be feeling rather proud of yourself, Lady Selina Walford.”

Selina whirled around at the sound of that familiar voice dripping with
disdain. She had just come to the balcony for a bit of fresh air while
William fetched her something to drink.

Now, Lady Stratford was standing just behind her with animosity shining
clearly from her icy blue eyes. Her dainty fists were clenched at her sides,
and she was looking at Selina as if she was the most repulsive thing Lady
Stratford had ever laid her eyes on.

“It is the dream of every young lady, is it not?” the widow taunted her. “To
snag a wealthy titled man—never mind that you are well beneath him in
fortune and prestige.”
Selina lifted her chin. So, it had come to this.

“Lady Stratford, I must warn you that I do not take kindly to those who talk
to me in such a disparaging manner,” she told her firmly. “I do not want to
cause a scene, and I suppose you would not either.”

But Lady Stratford only cackled. “Look at you, acting so righteous and
indignant—it only makes me laugh as to how woefully ignorant you are,
my dear!”

“If being ignorant means that I did not cuckold my husband several times
over while he was on his deathbed, then I suppose I shall gladly claim to
that epithet,” Selina retorted, watching the other woman’s face contort in
rage. “You may portray the image of a grieving widow so well that you
have that gaggle of young ladies following you fooled. However, you have
not heard what the ones who matter have had to say.”

She was not lying on that account—there might be a handful of young

ladies who looked up to Lady Stratford, admiring her for her beauty and
elegance as well as the rare accomplishment of coming into her own wealth
and independence without having to waste much of her youth on her
ancient husband.

However, there were those who also found her constant appearances at
these social events to be a disgusting farce. Of course, they were all too
polite to say it out loud, but just because the rumor mills were not churning
it out day and night did not mean that they did not think it.
There was Lady Makepeace, who absolutely refused to be associated with
the beautiful Dowager Viscountess. Lady Marguerite Abernathy had also
refrained from inviting her to the luncheons and picnics she had hosted in
Abernathy Hall. Lady Jamison, as well, had barely acknowledged the young
widow’s return to society.

While these outstanding women never outrightly gave her the cut direct, it
could be said that they went out of their way to avoid the Dowager
Viscountess of Stratford as much as they could.

“I do not need the stamp of approval of a handful of dreadfully boring

biddies,” Lady Stratford sneered. “Why should I consort with the lot of
them, anyway, when there is better company to be had?”

Selina gaped at her. Was she truly just admitting outright that she preferred
to run with the faster set? No self-respecting lady would ever admit to that
fact out loud!

“And guess what, my dear Lady Selina?” she purred. “That is precisely how
I came into acquaintance with your beloved Duke as well.”

“If you mean to reinforce the fact that he is a rake, I think that your well-
intentioned warnings have come a little late.” Selina wrinkled her nose
wryly at that. “I did not need any warning to know that beforehand. The
fact that he keeps company with my brother is warning enough for me.”

Andrew would be outraged to hear that from her, but it could not be helped
—her brother truly was a charming rogue. She would hit him over the head
if he dared deny it—not that he would, anyway. Men seemed to aspire to
that sort of infamy while women liked to play a little more coy.

“Oh yes…you could say that,” Lady Stratford replied in a condescending

manner, lifting her chin as she regarded Selina with derision. “But the
things he does—little girl, they would make you run away in horror.”

Selina had not exactly been horrified during her intimate moments with
William. True enough, he had shocked her on more than one occasion, but
horrified?

Good heavens, no! Far from it actually. But she could let Lady Stratford
have her own delusions. The poor woman seemed to have held a great
many of them close to her chest.

The Dowager Viscountess must have misconstrued her silence for shock,
for she forged on more persistently.

“He is not the man young ladies dream of, you know?” The older woman’s
voice took on an oddly wistful tone. “If you think he will woo you with
kisses or that he will treat you with gentleness considering your
inexperience, you are quite mistaken. He can be rough—very rough. In fact,
he likes it that way.” She took a deep breath and glared at Selina. “He will
not do it face to face. There will be no kisses, Lady Selina—only pure,
animalistic coupling.”

“Well, perhaps that is just as well,” Selina shot back at the older woman.
“You might not have considered that perhaps I like those…those kinds of
things, too!”

As far as witty retorts went, that one fell slightly short although it had the
desired effect of Lady Stratford staring at her in shock. The woman opened
her mouth as if she meant to challenge her when a dark voice joined in on
their conversation.

“Lady Stratford, I thought we were in agreement that you would keep well
away from my personal matters.”

Both ladies snapped their heads in the direction of that speaker. William
was just by the doorway to the balcony, one broad shoulder propped up
against the wall as he surveyed the scene before him impassively. His lips
quirked into a smile that was as devastating as it was dangerous.

“Good evening, ladies.”

To say he was angry was an understatement. He had already warned Lady

Stratford of the dangers of crossing him, and the woman simply refused to
heed them. He did not mean to warn her a second time. That would only
dull the effect of his previous threat if he did not carry through as he
promised.

After all, he was a gentleman—he had to honor his promises.

However, what he was most shocked about was not the fact that Selina had
actually put up quite a fight against the woman or defended his honor. She
had even outright called him a rake of the worst sort.

No, what surprised him the most was her reply after Lady Stratford told her
just how much of an uncaring bastard he was in bed.

Perhaps I like those things, too!

If only she knew how that declaration sent a bolt of pure lust raging through
his system!

In their amorous encounters, he had restrained himself, focusing on

wringing out her pleasure instead of showing her the extent of his desire for
her for fear that he would scare her off. Any young lady would be scared
witless by what Lady Stratford implied—not that it was untrue. He just
had…certain preferences that many would not possibly understand.

“Lady Stratford, please inform your father that he will hear from me soon.”
He had the distinct pleasure of seeing the Dowager Viscountess pale before
he turned to Selina. “The hour is getting late. Come.”

It was a bald lie, for in fact, it was still rather early. Fortunately, she did not
see fit to argue with him. She hastily walked past Lady Stratford, and when
she placed her gloved hand in his, he could not resist holding it tightly as if
he would lose his sanity if he so much as loosened his grip.
He did not deign to glance at Lady Stratford again before he led Selina out
to where he had summoned his carriage.

“Are we truly leaving?” she asked him, her smooth brow furrowed into a
frown. “It is much too early, and we only danced once—”

“Did you mean it?”

She blinked at him. “I beg your pardon?”

“What you said when Lady Stratford informed you about my…
predilections.”

“Oh. That.” She turned a delectable shade of pink, and he feared that he
would not be able to control himself, and he’d push her up against the wall,
hike up her skirts, and take her right outside their host’s home.

“Did. You. Mean. It.”

“What…umm…yes,” she hedged. “Not that I know much about such

things, mind you—I only—”

The carriage arrived before them right at that moment. Perfect timing,
really, for he was already straining in his damned breeches.
“Get in,” he ordered her harshly as the footman held the door open for
them.

She looked at him in confusion. “Where are we going? William, you are
being absurdly—”

“You will either board this carriage on your own two feet,” he told her in a
silky tone, “or I carry you in it. The choice is yours.”

She sighed and rolled her eyes. “I can get in by myself, thank you very
much.”

She was very much welcome to it, too, for he did not know what would
happen if she had forced him to carry her inside. He was in danger of losing
what little grasp he had of his self-control, and she had not even come close
to sensing it.

“William?” she glanced up at him with wide eyes. “I do wish you would tell
me what is going on. Where are we going?”

“Back to Rowley House,” he bit out.

“Yes, but why?”

“Because, my dear little sunbeam,” he whispered in her ear, “there is only
so much temptation a man can take before he loses all control.”

“And have you…ah, lost control?”

He gave her a look that said clearly, “What do you think?”

“Oh.”

He reached out to stroke the softness of her cheek with a fevered hand. “Are
you not going to change your mind, sunbeam?” he asked her huskily. “I can
still drop you off at Trowbridge—just say the word, and I will, I swear.”

She shook her head and smiled shyly at him. That was answer enough for
him. Her next words fairly shattered him.

“I want to be with you, too—in every way that matters.”

The carriage ride seemed to last a whole decade when it had only been a
few minutes. Once they were at Rowley House, he all but dragged her up to
his bedchamber, and before she could utter a word, his lips sealed hers in a
fiercely demanding kiss…

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 27

T his kiss was nothing like their previous kisses—Selina could feel
it from the way he held her as if his very hands themselves would
brand her as his.

“Last chance, sunbeam,” he rasped against her throat, his warm breath
fanning the flames of her desire. “Once I have you, there will be no one else
for you.”

She glanced coyly up at him, her smile almost teasing if she had not been
trembling in his arms. “And what if I changed my mind? What if I find
someone else?”

“There will be no one else—for either of us,” he swore roughly. “If any man
dares to lay a finger on you, he better get used to the idea of living without
that particular appendage for the rest of his life.”

It was a solemn promise—he would possess her thoroughly. There would be

no one else but him for her.
But it had already been like that for her, even before. She had fallen for him
—without knowing it, she had surrendered her heart and soul into his
hands. Tonight, he would have all of her body as well.

“William.” Her voice was soft and tremulous but filled with a certainty that
came from deep within her. She looked up at him from beneath the thick
frame of her lashes, her fingers tracing lacy patterns on his muscled chest.
“I am yours. I always have been.”

She heard him groan before his lips devoured hers in a kiss that threatened
to set both of them on fire. “You are,” he said roughly against her lips.
“Heaven help you; you are mine.”

His hand encompassed her breast, and Selina gasped, instinctively arching
into his touch, begging for more without saying a single word. There had to
be more…although what they had been doing for the past few days was
nothing short of scandalous, she knew that there was something more. She
could feel it in the way he held himself back each and every time.

Tonight, there was none of that restraint in him—only the determination to

make her totally his in every way that mattered.

“Turn around,” he growled. “I will be rid of this damned dress you have on
you.”
Selina let out a nervous laugh as she followed and turned her back to him.
Fingers as certain as her maid’s unerringly plucked at the tiny buttons that
lined her back down her spine. She shuddered in a breath when she felt the
cool air hit her back, felt the warm trail of his fingertips that followed.

“You…have a way with buttons, Your Grace.”

“You shall soon see that buttons are not the only thing I am good at,
Selina.”

Her name came out on a harsh breath, one that left her in no doubt that there
were a great many things indeed that he was good at. Things that he could
do to her. Things that she wanted him to do to her.

He slowly turned her back around. Timidly, she raised her eyes to his and
saw that they were dark with hunger. With lust.

The sight of it sent her pulse racing.

“Take off your clothes, Selina,” he said softly.

“I…I had thought that you would take them off for me,” she laughed
shakily.
His dark eyes bored into hers, and her breath hitched in her throat as she
took a tentative step back. His lips curled into a smile that reminded her of a
panther stalking its prey.

“Oh, but I want you to do it yourself, my dear,” he said silkily. “In that way,
we will be left in no doubt that it is you who are signing your freedom
away.”

Except that she was not merely signing it away—she was signing it over to
him, and the anticipation sent desire skittering down her spine to that secret
place between her legs.

She let out a soft moan as she brushed the dress off her shoulders, the heavy
silks falling to the floor with a soft rustle. Her petticoats came next, and
then her chemise. One by one, she dropped the articles of clothing
wordlessly to the floor until she stood naked before him in the firelight.

She raised her arms to remove the pins and combs from her hair when he
stopped her. “Leave them be,” he murmured. “I rather like the look of them
on you.”

He reached out and cupped an aching, heavy breast in one hand, his thumb
intentionally brushing over its turgid peak, drawing a gasp from her.

“So beautiful and so responsive,” he growled as his hand snaked down to

cup her possessively in between her legs. Selina let out a soft gasp that
melted into a moan when she felt his finger trace the outline of the center of
her desire. “And so wet. Can you feel that, sunbeam? You are so wet for me
already…and we have barely even begun.”

Selina arched into him as he hefted her thigh to drape on his waist, opening
her to the exploration of his fingers.

“You like it, do you not? When I touch you so intimately…when I take such
liberties with your body…”

“Yes…” she mewled. “Oh, yes…William…”

Her world became a fevered dream consisting only of his touch and his lips
on hers, so much so that she had not been aware that he had already backed
her into his gigantic bed until the back of her knees hit the mattress, and she
fell in a rather inglorious heap upon the sheets.

Whatever mortification she might have felt for falling so ungracefully was
wiped clean away when he fell to his knees before her opened thighs, his
warm breath rasping her center.

Selina rose up on her elbows in alarm. “William, I do not think you should
—”

Her words died in her throat at the first stroke of his tongue, becoming a
strangled sound in her throat as she burned with the most delicious
sensation she had ever encountered in more than two decades of her
existence. She was certain there was not a more sumptuous dessert in all the
earth that she could partake in, and yet, he was the one doing all the eating.

“Do not presume to tell me what I can and cannot do, my little sunbeam,”
he growled against her sensitized flesh. “Now, be a good girl…”

He was going to go mad—completely, utterly, irrevocably, certifiably mad.

How long had it been since he started to dream of tasting her? Of sampling
for himself the utter decadence of her desire? The very same desire that he
had wrought out from her sweet body?

It was true that he introduced Selina to the pleasures to be had between a

man and a woman, but he was now finding for himself that all his
experience had not prepared him for the feast that was now spread before
him.

He held her steady as he dove in like a starving man before a banquet, his
tongue lashing out at her pearl as he alternated between licking and sucking
her as she bucked and moaned beneath him in wild abandon.

“William…oh dear, William…!”

Her breathy moans were like the grandest symphony to his ears. Combined
with her taste, he could not have found a finer meal—and they had not yet
even gotten to the main course. He was hungry for her, insatiable for her.

He had thought before that if he had a taste of her—just one—then, that

would be the end of it. In his entire life, he had never wanted a woman as
much as he wanted her. Still wanted her.

Even as he savored the delectable taste of her on his tongue, he knew with a
finality that it would be as he had told her just a few moments ago—that
there would be no one else for them.

They would burn together. There was no coming back from this.

William knew that he should have steered clear of her, knew that he was the
worst possible suitor for her. That he would only take all that she had to
give and leave her as broken as he was.

And yet, she had chosen him in spite of all his flaws and imperfections. She
had seen through the facade he paraded in the Ton, called him out for his
arrogance, and chose to be with him despite that. Most young ladies could
never be as brave.

But here she was, crying out for him, her body singed by his touch and yet
calling, calling, calling out for more.

He should have resisted, but even now, he knew that he was ultimately
powerless to do so.
“William…I feel…oh dear God!”

Her breath came out in short little gasps, and he could feel her close to
release, knew it from the way her body hips bucked beneath him and the
way her chest rose and fell. From the corner of his eye, he saw her fists
clenching at the sheets before she let out a keening moan as she shattered
into fractals of pleasure.

Pleasure that he had given her.

She gazed up at him with limpid eyes as he tugged at his cravat and
shrugged his linen shirt off. He would be rid of everything that kept him
from her. He would have her—body, soul, and heart—imprinted upon the
very fiber of his being.

“William…”

He smirked as her eyes widened at the sight of him naked before her,
feeling an irrational masculine pride in her astonishment.

“Are you afraid now, sunbeam?” he asked her softly.

She shook her head and rose up, her hands reaching for him. “Can I touch
you?” she asked him timidly.
What kind of a question was that? William wanted to laugh, for he had
craved her touch like the barren earth craved rainfall.

“Yes, my beautiful one,” he rasped.

He watched as she reached out to trace the muscles on his chest tentatively,
her expression one of intense concentration as if she was learning him by
heart. When her fingers lingered over the muscles of his abdomen, he let
out a sharp hiss.

“Does it hurt?” she asked him, eyes wide.

He shook his head. “Not at all. Do carry on.”

Her brows snapped together. “Are you patronizing me?”

“I would not dream of it.”

When her fingers came at last to his manhood, his eyes fluttered close.

“I have wondered how it would feel for you if I were to touch you as
intimately,” she murmured.
“Trust me, sunbeam, there is no greater pleasure.”

“I should hope so.”

He caught the flash of her smirk before her hands wrapped around him—as
much as they could considering his impressive size, anyway—and he nearly
spilled himself before her. He had not come so quickly ever since he was an
untried youth, but her less experienced exploration of his body had him
gritting his teeth, holding on to the last shred of his sanity.

Minx, he wanted to call out. Temptress.

How could an innocent like her be able to torment him so?

And as if that was enough, her soft lips enveloped the tip of his manhood,
her little tongue flicking him coyly until he wanted nothing more than to
push her back down onto the bed and make her take him in that wicked
little mouth of hers until she gagged…

He groaned. The image of it alone was enough to make him lose his self-
control—and they called him a bloody rake!

He growled and pushed her back onto the bed. He saw her eyes widen
briefly, and he took advantage of the situation by swallowing her cry of
surprise in a fiercely possessive kiss—one that she did not back down from.
Their tongues mated with each other as he nudged her legs apart with his
knee and settled himself into the cradle of her slick warmth.

He found her entrance and slowly inched inside her, watching her for any
sign that she might be in pain. He was not in the habit of bedding untried
young women and knew for a fact that he could be rough between the
sheets.

But not with Selina. Her pleasure was his top priority, even if he knew there
was no way he could avoid causing her pain.

“I need you to relax,” he told her softly. “There will be some pain.”

She scrunched up her brows in a frown, and for a moment, he feared that he
was too rough with her, that he was too large for her. That she was going to
realize that this was all a mistake…

“Lady Stratford…she told me you did not want to do it face to face…” she
murmured. “That you would rather—”

He brushed his knuckles gently over the soft curve of her cheek. “Sunbeam,
I do not want to hear another woman’s name when I am right here naked
with you.” He frowned. “Or another man’s name, for that matter.”
Selina let out a choked laugh, and he took that opportunity to inch deeper
into her until he heard the sharp intake of her breath when he reached her
barrier.

“You are different from Lady Stratford,” he told her. “What we have is
different, sunbeam. Do not compare yourself to her. There is nothing to
compare.”

She nodded, and that soft smile tracing the corner of her lips nearly did him
in. How could she smile at him like that, just when he was about to destroy
her?

“This is going to hurt,” he warned her. He wished there was some other way
to make her his without hurting her, but he was bound to hurt her in one
way or another—he just could not help himself.

He saw the tears shining in her eyes, and he leaned down to kiss them one
by one.

“I want to belong to you—wholly.” Her voice was soft and yet steady, a
warm breath caressing his ear. “Make me yours, William.”

He groaned and pushed through her last shred of innocence, swallowing her
cry. He sank fully into her and groaned. God above, he had been with many
women, but he had never felt such searing pleasure as he did now with
Selina.
She was so tight and so warm. So perfect.

“Breathe, sunbeam.” He leaned his forehead on hers and wished he could

take on all that pain for her. He captured her hand and placed it on his chest,
covering it with his own. “I am right here with you. Breathe.”

He saw her nod as her chest began to rise and fall with his. He pressed a
soft kiss to her brow. “Good girl.”

He shifted a little, so his weight was not bearing down on her, earning him a
soft moan. “Did I hurt you, sunbeam?”

She shook her head. “No…it felt…wonderful.”

He groaned and kissed her again. “Let me show you how wonderful it can
be…”

He began to move into her, slowly at first for fear of hurting her. He had
known he was larger than most men, had taken some pride in it, in fact. But
that mattered very little to him if he was hurting her. She had seemed so
small…so delicate…

Then, he heard it—a tiny, impatient moan—followed by the movement of

her hips. He let out a soft growl.
“That’s it, sunbeam,” he coaxed her. “Move with me.”

He began to thrust into her in long strokes, taking her moans as approval,
even encouragement.

William had never needed either from any of the women he bedded before.
He took what he wanted from them without much care.

But Selina was different. His sunbeam was nothing—would always be

nothing—like all those other women.

No one else—for both of us.

“William…!” His name came out in a desperate plea as her hips snapped up
to meet his, her fingernails clawing at his back. “William…it’s…oh God…”

“Does it feel good, sunbeam? When I take you like this?”

She nodded, her wordless moans becoming louder as he thrust into her
faster. He grasped her thigh, lifting it so he could pound deeper into her,
wrenching a sharp cry of sheer pleasure from her.

“William! Dear God…do not stop!”

He grinned as he felt her walls clamping around him, felt her nearing her
peak. “That’s it, sunbeam. Do not hold back. Let go…”

He thrust into her a few more times before she let out a keening wail, her
release coming as powerfully as his did. He let out a roar as he spilled—no,
exploded into her.

He leaned over her, pressing his forehead to hers. For a brief moment, all he
could hear were the sounds of their mingling breaths. All he could feel was
her all around him.

He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead and slowly slipped out from her,
earning him a soft gasp.

“Did it hurt?” he asked her as he gathered her into his arms.

She shook her head. “Not really; it felt…nice.”

He nearly choked on his laughter. “You better get some rest. I gather you
will be quite sore after.”

“Mm-hmm…” she mumbled, sleep tinging her voice as she buried her nose
into his side. “What about you? I suppose you need to…” She let out a soft
yawn. “…sleep, too…”
“Not really, I do not sleep, remember?”

Sleep was not a luxury that he could enjoy. Not when his dreams were filled
with blood and screams and horror.

“Well…there might be…something we can do about that…” she murmured,

her voice trailing off as she succumbed to sleep.

Ever since that fateful night more than two decades past, he had never been
calm enough to sleep. But as he held Selina close to him, he felt some sort
of peace settle over him like a warm blanket. He stared out into the
fireplace, watching the flames flicker and dance as his own eyes fluttered
close.

Maybe, he could sleep for a while, too. Right here with her in his arms…

For the first time in two decades, William allowed himself to fall into a
dreamless sleep.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 28

T he morning sunshine filtered through the heavy brocade draperies

of the master’s bedroom in Rowley House. As the woman in his
arms stirred slightly, scrunching her nose and burying it into his side,
William could not help the soft smile that traced across his lips.

“Just a little while longer, Jeanne…” she murmured, enticing a soft chuckle
from him. No sooner had the amused sound left him then her eyes flew
wide open, and she bolted upright, the heavy blankets pooling at her waist
as she did so.

William did not even bother to hide his bold admiration for her bare chest—
something that caused Selina to frown as she dashed to cover up her naked
breasts.

“Why are you hiding yourself from me?” he asked her huskily, his eyebrow
arched in amusement. “There is nothing that I have not seen before.”

Twin spots of pink appeared on her cheeks. “Must you be so…so…”

“My dear Selina,” he purred, “you should never, ever have to hide your
radiance from me.”

He tugged at the blanket and grinned when she let out a surprised yelp
when he achieved what he wanted—her, bare before his eyes once more.

“Do you honestly not know how beautiful you are?” he groaned, his hand
cradling the back of her head as he drew her into a fierce kiss, his lips
molding over hers insistently. She let out a soft gasp, and he took the
opportunity to slip his tongue to mate with hers, delighting in her soft
mewls as she returned his kiss with equal fervor.

“But it is already light outside,” she told him, her eyes clouded with
anxiety. “Somebody might see—”

“Nobody will see,” he told her firmly. “If I say that nobody will see you,
nobody will. If they do, I will have them pluck out their own eyes.”

She let out a choked laugh. “How could you be so…so…”

He drowned her words by pulling her into a kiss much deeper than the last.
His hand cupped her breast, squeezing it gently to draw a moan from her,
her body arching instinctively to his touch.
How could a woman be so responsive? It was like she was made for him,
her every curve and crevice, her every action—all of it enticed him, and he
knew without a doubt that he would never be able to let go of her now.

It was as if the very fabric of his being had been woven into hers. He could
only want more of her, and it pleased him endlessly that she seemed to be
just as insatiable as he is.

“Sunbeam,” he groaned. Damn it, he could feel himself harden, straining

for her. “I fear that it may be much too soon for you yet.”

After their coupling last night, she had to be a little sore. He was not such a
beast as to pummel her when she had barely recovered.

Her response was a needy whine that threatened to obliterate every bit of
his self-control. “But William…”

“Do not worry, sunbeam,” he reassured her. “We can find ways around this
matter.”

He dragged his mouth to the peak of a breast while his hand wandered
down to the apex of her thighs. With his other hand, he grabbed her hand
and led it to his hardened member, watching as her eyes widened in
surprise.
“We can do something that should satisfy us both,” he murmured huskily.
He wordlessly directed her to wrap her hands around him, hissing at the
pleasure her untutored touch brought him.

Fortunately, she had a quick mind, and she was an even quicker study. She
soon learned what to do to please him, how to hold him just so until he
swore that he was going to lose his grasp on his sanity right there on her
hand—something that had never occurred with anyone before.

Soon, her breathy sighs turned into rapturous moans, interspersed with his
guttural groans as they both discovered yet another way that they might
bring pleasure to each other. Together, they crested wave after wave of
pleasure, and when her body arched in release, he clamped his mouth upon
her breast and sucked deeply, drawing forth more from her until she was
writhing, her hands squeezing him instinctively as he exploded into her
touch.

For a moment, their heavy breaths were all that could be heard in the
spacious bedroom. William leaned his forehead against hers and pressed a
soft kiss to her lips.

“I think I had best send you off,” he groaned. “If you linger for another
moment, I might never let you leave.”

Selina laughed and twined her arms behind his neck, smiling coyly up at
him. “Now, would that be such a bad thing?”
It was not such a bad thing at all, but there were things he needed to do.
Things that he could never let her know.

She might look at him adoringly now, believing him to be a good man, but
the truth was that he was darkness incarnate. He had done things that would
horrify her—was still doing things that would horrify her.

But William knew that his soul was a small price to pay if it meant he could
keep her with him like this, safe and happy.

He pressed a gentle kiss to her brow. “You should get some rest, too.”

“I am a little sleepy,” she admitted, her fingers lightly tracing lacy patterns
on his chest. “Are you not tired as well?”

“A man can never be too tired after such endeavors, sunbeam.” He got up
and reached for his breeches and his shirt. A short distance away, he spotted
her chemise and her gown, wrinkled beyond repair.

She frowned and rolled over. “Are men not allowed to get tired?”

“Now, that,” he grinned wolfishly, “would be a rather great blow to our

esteem.”
She rolled your eyes. “I am sure your esteem will survive. In fact, you
probably need to be knocked down a peg or two.”

He smirked at her, an eyebrow arched. “Insulting me will not bring me back

to bed, sunbeam.”

She groaned and rolled over, wrapping herself in the silken sheets as she
stood up and begun picking up articles of clothing from the floor. She held
her chemise up with a regretful look. “There is no saving this one,” she
sighed.

“I shall buy you dozens more,” he told her as he buttoned up his shirt.

“Why? Just so you may tear them apart?”

He liked the way she thought—that there would be another time for him to
tear into her clothes.

“Naturally, sunbeam. What other purpose should they serve, after all?”

When Lord Thorne was finally admitted into the study of the Duke of
Barrington late that morning, there were many who would say that he
looked more anxious than elated that His Grace had finally agreed to have
an audience with him.
It was just as well for William made no efforts to hide his displeasure from
the Earl.

“I thought we had an agreement, Lord Thorne,” he told he older man in a

silky, yet ominous, tone. “It seems like disregard for agreements runs in the
blood, for your daughter failed to heed her side of our agreement as well.”

The Earl paled visibly at his words. “Forgive me, Your Grace. I have
spoiled Esther terribly—I shall correct my errors immediately.”

“I thought you would do the very same thing you are promising now, and
yet, she has managed to provoke me yet again.” William picked up the
paperweight before him, idly turning it over in his hands. It was made of
some sort of dark stone and polished until it gleamed. When he raised his
eyes to Lord Thorne, he saw the man’s throat bob in panic, and he allowed
himself a feral smile.

Men like the Earl were rather easy to manage, particularly when one had a
good grasp of what mattered the most to them. Although it was well-known
within the Ton that the Earl adored his eldest daughter, there was only so
much he was willing to sacrifice for her when she kept putting their family
in such perilous straits.

“We have known each other for a long time, wouldn’t you say, Lord
Thorne?” he continued quietly.

“Yes, Your Grace. Around five years, to be exact.”

“And you know that I am a man of my word, do you not?”

The Earl nodded his graying head in an almost comical fashion. It almost
disgusted William to see the man cowering before him when he was so used
to throwing his weight around the other members of the aristocracy. But it
was a most often forgotten rule that no matter how powerful you are, there
was always someone stronger than you.

The Earl of Thorne, who had long been a master player in the circles of the
Ton, had been complacent enough to forget this. Either that, or he truly
believed that he could still coddle his eldest daughter and not expect her to
end up offending someone else.

How unfortunate that Lady Stafford had decided to offend him, of all
people.

“Your Grace, I beg your pardon for the offenses my daughter has
committed,” the Earl pleaded. “Esther—I have spoiled her too much—”

“Lord Thorne, I do not like it when people keep repeating themselves,” he

cut in. “It makes me think that they think so little of me that they see it fit to
repeat themselves over and over, hoping that I will take their word for it.”
He looked up at the man, his eyes cold and impenetrable. “Why do you
keep repeating yourself? I already know that you have spoiled your
daughter—to your detriment, this time. The question is—” he leaned
forward and pinned the Earl with an icy glare “—what do you intend to do
about it??”
The Earl of Thorne swallowed visibly once more, and William feared that
the man would fall to his knees before him. Such a display would only
disgust him even more.

“Your Grace, I will send Esther off to the rural estate,” the older man
promised. “I have spoken with the heir of the old Viscount. She will not be
allowed to return to London anymore.”

William leaned back in his chair. “Go on.”

“Her allowance will also be drastically reduced so that she cannot to

attempt to do anything foolish again. Her assets will be put under my
control—” At this point, the Earl looked like he might end up sobbing
before William. “Your Grace, please—I have yet another unmarried
daughter who—”

“I do not care about your daughters,” William snapped irritably. “Not the
older one or the younger one. What you had best do, Lord Thorne, is get
away from my line of sight and stay away.”

“As you wish, Your Grace!” the Earl squeaked.

“Very well,” William waved him off. “You may leave.”

The Earl bowed, murmuring platitudes and effusive gratitude towards him,
promising that he would deal with his daughter swiftly.

William continued to stare out the open window of the study long after the
Earl of Thorne left. Ever since he had graced the man with a business
partnership, his wealth had grown by leaps and bounds until the Earl
became too arrogant for his own good. Without William’s help, he could not
ever have hoped for a match even with the old Viscount of Stafford, and
yet, he had dared to covet the position of the Duchess of Barrington for his
daughter.

William would rather die than hand over the seat of his mother to a woman
that he knew very well his mother would never like, had she been alive.

The Earl of Thorne had overstepped his bounds, and now, he found out the
consequences of such. It was such a pity that a great man like the Earl could
be reduced to a blubbering fool without a trace of dignity—but William
would do more if that meant that he could protect Selina from anyone who
would dare malign her.

Let the Ton speculate however they wished as to the reason behind the
falling out between him and the Earl of Thorne. There was nothing on this
Earth that would stop him from destroying anyone or anything that would
harm Selina.

Even if that meant going against all his business partners and those closest
to him.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 29

T he townhouse in St. James was quiet when the carriage of the

Duke of Barrington clattered up the street. Given that it was a late
night and its occupant rarely stayed up past dinner hours, it still presented a
sort of eerie facade.

William kept his expression neutral as he descended the carriage and

walked up the steps of the townhouse with a lacquer box of his uncle’s
favorite cigars tucked under his arm. He noted the wide-eyed surprise of the
servant that answered the door but said nothing of it as he brushed past the
man.

“Lord Gillingham is in his study?” he inquired softly.

“Yes, Your Grace,” the man squeaked, rushing over to lead him to the room
in the upper floor that he knew his uncle used as his study whenever he was
in London.

Not that Lord Duncan Gillingham had much business to attend to in the
city, but a gentleman always likes to have a room to retreat to himself. He
rarely entertained guests in this townhouse, but when he did, he always
summoned them to his study. He had taught William the same thing since
he was a boy, emphasizing on the young Duke how it was necessary to
present an intimidating presence in close quarters.

It had very little effect on William, however, for growing up, he had
resolved to always make it a point to make his presence the most
intimidating in any room he was in—even if it was a ballroom or his uncle’s
study.

His unexpected visit had the desired effect on his uncle, for the older man
shot up from his seat when William walked into the study. The room was
furnished entirely in deep browns and reds and golds. A rich carpet covered
most of the expanse of the room, but the centerpiece of it all was a great
mahogany desk close to the fireplace.

That particular piece of furniture was a favorite of Lord Gillingham’s, and

he often boasted how he had designed it himself.

“William—what an unexpected surprise!” the older man smiled.

William merely smiled politely at his uncle. “I thought I should return the
favor these past few weeks.” He handed his uncle the box of cigars. “Your
favorite—a gift.”

“I would have told you not to bother if you would pay attention,” Lord
Gillingham guffawed. “But you always do whatever the hell you want, do
you not?” He opened the box, and his eyes gleamed when he saw the neatly
arranged rolls inside. “Excellent, excellent. Much appreciated, boy.”

His uncle had not called him a boy for more than half a decade. Perhaps, he
had ceased to be a boy the night his parents died, and the duties and
responsibilities of the Duke of Barrington were thrust upon his shoulders
although Lord Gillingham had managed to shoulder most of them until
William came of age.

William took the seat opposite his uncle, studying the man before him
briefly. Lord Gillingham appeared as if he had recently lost some weight,
and his eyes denoted a lack of sleep. An oddity, it would seem, for his uncle
generally liked to enjoy an afternoon respite as much as the other indolent
gentlemen.

“Looking at you right now, you remind me so much of your father,” Lord
Gillingham remarked, his voice soft and tinged with some sentimentality.
“When you walked in that door, I thought for a moment that you were
George.” He shook his head. “A foolish thought—but I suppose there are
many who would tell you how much you looked like him.”

William nodded. He had heard it countless times from the older lords, how
he resembled his father so much it was uncanny. Except for his deep blue
eyes—they were the eyes of Her Grace, Alexandra Durham Gillingham, the
Duchess of Barrington.

“It must have been like seeing a ghost,” he quipped.

“There are no ghosts,” his uncle replied a little too quickly. He took out a
cigar from the box William had brought him. “Although there are a great
many things that I gather George would have wanted to say to me. Probably
as much as I wanted to tell him.”

He said nothing as his uncle drifted off to his own memories. As far as
relationships between siblings went, he and his older brother had never
really been close. William’s father had been raised with the expectations of
a Duke while Duncan had been allowed to live his life as he saw fit—
provided, of course, that he did not tarnish the family’s reputation.

It could be said that both brothers were raised in much the same way Selina
and Andrew had been. It was common enough in the Ton.

“Tell me about the Lady Selina Walford,” his uncle said suddenly.

William shrugged. “What is there to say? She was left in my care when her
brother left the country on business.”

“The young Earl of Rowley, correct?” He watched as his uncle puffed on

his cigar. “A young rascal, that one. His sister appears to be a more sensible
sort.”

He did not like his uncle mentioning Selina in the conversation, particularly
when William knew that the man had sent men to follow her on one
occasion. He said nothing which Lord Gillingham took as license to
continue prattling on.
“When I look at you both, I cannot be help but be reminded of your
parents,” the older man mused. “One cannot help it, I suppose, especially
with you looking so much like George, but it goes beyond that.” His uncle
cast him an odd, measuring gaze. “You look at the young lady the same way
your father used to look at your mother—I remember that look very well.”

William stiffened at his uncle’s words. His parents had loved each other
deeply, so much so that they would rather suffer and die together than for
one of them to live on alone. He had always wondered if one of them had
survived that fateful night, would they have still found it a life worth living?

But as he always told his uncle and himself, there was no use wondering
what they might have to say, for they were already dead, and the dead had
no bearing on the lives of the living.

“I am not my father,” he said softly.

“True enough,” his uncle agreed. “And you must not make the same
mistakes he did. Do not lose sight of your goals, William, just because of a
woman. A woman is for siring heirs, nothing more. Do not allow one to
become your weakness.”

“Is that why you never married?”

His uncle let out a loud shout of laughter. “Well, I am just the second son.
Not much in the way of titles and estates in my position. Nothing that could
attract a lady of quality.”

His uncle’s tone appeared to hold some resentment.

“There would be ladies who would wed you just for an association with the
Gillingham name.”

“And have her harp on me day and night, demanding jewels and frocks and
whatnot?” Lord Gillingham scoffed. “I have nothing to give to my heir, so
why should I bother with one? I rather enjoy the life of the carefree
gentleman.”

And he had exemplified that lifestyle rather well, minus the debauchery and
poverty that usually trailed after the second sons of the Ton.

There was a polite knock on the door, and both men looked up to find
Humboldt peering from the door.

“I beg your pardon, Your Grace, My Lord,” his uncle’s personal aide
apologized, “but there is something that requires your most urgent attention,
Lord Gillingham.”

“At this ungodly hour?” the older gentleman groused. “I swear—these

young people do not know how to respect sensible working hours
nowadays.” He turned towards William. “I shall be quick about it.”

William merely replied, “Do not hurry on my account.”

His uncle nodded in acknowledgment before leaving with Humboldt. From

outside the door, William could still hear his uncle complaining just a little
more at the lateness of the hour.

As soon as the steps and voices could no longer be heard, William’s eyes
snapped out of the indolence he had earlier adopted and became sharp. He
had only so little time. Whatever business his uncle had, it would not take
very long.

From the moment he had walked into the study, he had noted that Duncan
had never left his seat, barely even shifting in it during the course of their
conversation.

He stood up and walked over to his uncle’s side of the desk, his fingertips
running gently over the polished wood. Duncan had liked everything within
reach and so, had factored a great deal of drawers into his custom desk.

William opened them one by one, carefully rifling through the contents so
as not to disturb anything. He had no idea what he was looking for, actually
—only that there was something he needed to find in this desk.
There was nothing in the drawers besides an assortment of papers and
documents to the few unremarkable estates his uncle possessed.

He was about to turn his attention to something else aside from the desk
when he saw it—a slight gap between one of the panels on one of the
beveled edges of the desk. William tested it and found that it popped open
in a smooth fashion. No doubt, it had been kept well-oiled in spite of its
hidden nature.

Inside, there was another compartment which held an assortment of letters.

William grabbed the stack inside and found himself a little bit perplexed
because it seemed as if it had all been just stuffed there haphazardly. As if
whoever had put the letters in there did so in a hurry.

Some of them bore his uncle’s name in a familiar, feminine scrawl. Was
Duncan seeing a woman, perhaps? But the letters appeared to be rather old
and worn—as if they had been read and reread for not less than a decade.
The paper had already yellowed in some areas, and the edges were
beginning to fray. Nonetheless, it appeared to be rather fine paper, so
whomever its writer might be, she was most likely to be a lady of quality.

He opened the first one, his eyes hastily scanning the missive for any
important information. He had no wish to pry into his uncle’s personal
affairs, and if he was seeing a lady, he had no wish to suffer through their
written flirtations.

Only, these were hardly flirtatious.

“…I am sorry, but I must refuse your affections, for there is another in my
heart…”

“…you must desist from writing me these letters…”

“…I am to be married, My Lord, and it is my intention to live happily with

the husband of my heart…”

The last letter was a scathing admonition for what appeared to be his
uncle’s unwelcome advances. All of them had one thing in common—his
mother’s signature at the very bottom.

Some of them were signed as Alexandra Durham which William surmised

were from before she married his father. The last was signed Alexandra
Durham Gillingham, Duchess of Barrington.

Had Duncan lusted after his mother all along? Was that why he was
hellbent on capturing the men who had murdered her and his father two
decades past?

He found his answer in a few letters bound with a piece of string—all of

them from a certain Harold O’Malley.

Those few, brief correspondences detailed how his uncle had procured some
of the livery for the staff of the Barrington Estate and provided them to
O’Malley and his men. How Duncan had sketched out the entire layout of
his brother’s estate. How he had offered them a generous payment if they
could kindly get rid of his brother and his family.

The letters towards the bottom of the stack told of how they had failed to
find William and kill him. The man continued to extort his uncle for more
payment, threatening to turn himself in to the authorities if Duncan did not
acquiesce to his increasing demands.

The last letter expressed O’Malley’s apparent outrage at Duncan’s desertion

of him and his man. He spoke how he had been followed and cornered in
Scotland, and he demanded Duncan send more money so that he might
board a ship and flee to the colonies.

In those letters, in clear writing, was the evidence of Duncan Gillingham’s

betrayal of his own flesh and blood.

In truth, William had already known of the relationship between his uncle
and the leader of the men who murdered his parents. His men had caught up
to O’Malley in Scotland not more than three days past. In the beginning, he
had not been so forthcoming, but William’s men eventually managed to
squeeze the truth from him. He was, after all, nothing more than a hired
killer, and his services was always up for the highest bidder.

In this case, William now held his life in his hands.

He had not wanted to believe that it was his uncle behind it all—he had
trusted the man for the better part of two decades. Had regarded him as his
only remaining family and had tolerated even his controversial decisions in
the management of William’s estates before he came of age.

In truth, Lord Duncan Gillingham was the most dangerous man in

William’s life, and he had been right under William’s nose all this time.

He felt the keen urge to kick both himself and his father’s traitorous brother.
Instead, he quietly shuffled the letters and tied them back up before
returning them into the secret compartment. He managed to return to his
chair just as the door to the study clicked open, and his uncle walked in
with an apologetic smile.

“My solicitor,” he told William. “He insists on coming over at these

ungodly hours.”

William managed to nod and stood up. “As you say, it is getting late.”

“Oh.” Duncan did not even look the slightest bit upset. “Very well, then.
Humboldt shall see you to the door.”

“No need,” William told him tersely. “I know my way out.”

As he stepped into the carriage, he saw Humboldt looking at him rather

oddly. His uncle’s most trusted aide—did he also know what Duncan had
been up to? William had no doubt about it.
He would find a way to deal with them, the way he had dealt with O’Malley
and his ilk.

But above all, he had to protect Selina. Knowing what he did now, she was
in far greater danger with him than she ever was before.

Even far more than he had first accounted for.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 30

T he entire night after his discovery at his uncle’s house, William

could not sleep.

It was as if all the peace that Selina had brought into his life was obliterated
by the harsh realization that he might be putting her in more danger than
either he or Andrew had anticipated.

He had read the letters in his uncle’s study, had seen just how far Duncan
Gillingham would go when he did not get what he wanted. He had no
qualms about murdering his brother, the sister-in-law he professed to love
more than life itself, and the young boy who was his nephew.

With the capture of O’Malley, he knew that his uncle would be an even
more dangerous adversary. A trapped beast would fight twice as hard.
Knowing how devious and cunning his uncle was, hearing him talk about
Selina at nearly every visit—he had no doubt that Duncan Gillingham
would use her as leverage against him.
He needed O’Malley to talk and provide incontrovertible proof, so his uncle
would never be able to weasel his way out of the accusations William was
going to levy against him—and he needed to do that as soon as possible.

He groaned as he thrust his head into his hands. Was he truly fated to lose
everything that he held dear?

But if he did not stay away from Selina, he would only be putting her in
harm’s way. It was far, far better to have to keep his distance from her than
to lose her permanently.

William would never be able to live in a world without her in it—

unfortunately, his uncle had also come to that same conclusion. Duncan
Gillingham would use her if only to get to him—and unlike William, Selina
was more or less dispensable to him.

William would have to break things off with her. Keep her at a safe
distance. Keep her away from all the harm being with him would bring her.

But to do so, he would have to break her heart.

Selina understood that a man would sometimes be preoccupied with

business matters, so when William told her that morning that he would not
be able to accompany her on their usual turn about Rotten Row, she had
taken no heed of it. After all, she was still a little sore, and she was not
exactly looking forward to sitting atop a horse in her condition.
“Do tell His Grace that I understand,” she smiled at the footman, who had
been tasked to deliver his message. “Shall I see him for afternoon tea
later?”

“His Grace will be preoccupied for the rest of the day,” the footman
clarified, looking at her with some pity. She would have found it comical on
the dangerous-looking man if she had not felt so dismayed.

She forced a polite smile. “Very well, do relay to His Grace that I
understand and,” she paused before adding, “do tell him that it would be of
much relief to me if he could eat his meals on time. I understand that he
tends to forget when he gets rather busy.”

“I shall let him know your thoughts, My Lady.”

Selina sighed and leaned against that door as she watched the footman
leave. Hutchins, she recalled. That was his name. William seemed to make
use of him often when he sent private messages to her. Although he looked
a little bit funny in his servant’s livery, she could feel that he was a
trustworthy man. Otherwise, His Grace would not have such confidence
relaying his messages through him.

Seeing that her mistress had instead returned back to the house instead of
heading out to the stables as she usually did on most mornings, Jeanne
frowned.
“Shall I help you into another dress, My Lady?” she offered.

Selina nodded listlessly. “Yes, please do. I think I shall stay abed this
morning.”

Thankfully, Jeanne was tactful enough to refrain from asking her any more
questions although Selina could see the worry in her maid’s eyes. As Jeanne
helped Selina into a soft pink day dress, Selina gave Jeanne a reassuring
smile.

“I am perfectly all right, Jeanne. Just a little tired, that is all.”

Jeanne smiled softly as she styled her young lady’s hair into a more
appropriate coif for the change in her activities. “As long as you are all
right, My Lady,” she murmured. “Just let me know if you need anything
else.”

“Thank you, Jeanne. I shall call on you later.”

The maid nodded and excused herself, leaving Selina alone with her
thoughts.

She knew that she should give William some time. After all, he had been
rather busy escorting her to balls and operas, accompanying her out to
morning rides and promenades…She could not very well expect the man to
be at her beck and call, could she?
Still, she could not help but feel like there was something wrong…that
William was acting differently towards her.

Just give him some time, she thought to herself, resolutely pushing away the
anxious thoughts plaguing her mind. At the same time, I should find some
other suitable diversion. After all, I cannot possibly expect us to be joined
at the hip after that night.

And she did her best to be busy. She promenaded with Julia and Mary down
to Hyde Park and had herself fitted for a few more dresses for the rest of the
balls for the remainder of the Season. She had luncheon and tea with
several other young ladies of her acquaintance, even braving a rather
dreadful performance by Miss Dorothy Forsythe at the pianoforte. She
attended operas and musicales, and still, she did not see William for the
better part of the week.

Something was dreadfully wrong—she could feel it.

And not only her but her friends, too.

“I should say that he is taking his sweet time about it,” Julia snorted,
fanning herself as she launched into a full-scale tirade. “Do not tell me that
he has cried off, my dear—what an absolutely abominable thing to do,
that!”
Selina paled at her friend’s words, causing Mary to shoot her sister a glare
to keep her mouth shut. “I am sure it is not that, Selina,” she reassured her
friend. “You know how His Grace was even before your courtship…”

“Oh, yes,” Julia retorted, her voice dripping in disdain, “I seem to recall
what an absolute joy he was to have around—not.”

“Julia!” Mary hissed at her sister. “Do stop. You are not helping at all.”

Fortunately, a footman politely announced to the ladies present that the

Duke of Barrington had just arrived and was seeking an audience with
Selina. In private.

“See?” Mary smiled reassuringly at her. “He has finally come around.”

“About time, too,” her sister muttered under her breath. “I was just about to
drag him here—”

Selina did not hear the rest of what her best friend was threatening to do to
William if he had not shown up. Her heart was hammering so loudly in her
chest that she feared that she would go deaf from it.

When she saw his broad back towards her just at the front door, she felt her
entire body grow cold and shrink into itself, and she wanted nothing more
than to run and hide.
But this was William, she reminded herself. He would never do anything to
hurt her, would he?

“William…” she called out to him softly, “I had not seen you in days. How
are you? Are you—”

He turned around, and the expression on his face sent chills running down
her spine. His eyes were cold as if all emotion had been leached out of
them. His lips were pressed into a grim line.

“Is something wrong?” she asked him in a quiet voice, even as she was
afraid of what he was about to tell her.

“I would rather discuss it in private,” he replied in clipped tones. “What I

have to say might be…distressing.”

“Distressing?” she echoed. She shook her head and gestured weakly
outside. “Perhaps the gardens, then? Nobody will be there at this hour.”

He nodded curtly and followed her as they wended their way through the
neatly trimmed shrubs. Every step seemed to echo loudly in Selina’s head.
She felt so dreadfully cold inside that not even the warm afternoon sunshine
could penetrate her.

They reached the gazebo, and William helped her inside. “You might want
to sit down for this.”
“No,” she said quietly. If he was going to be distant and polite, she could
be, too. “I would prefer to stand.”

“Very well.” His tone was impassive as if they were discussing business
matters instead of something that was potentially earth-shattering.

“I wish to put an end to our courtship.”

William could see the hurt plainly on her face from the moment he had been
short with her. She had been shocked at first, and then, there was a
pervasive pain in her eyes that made him want to hit himself for hurting her.

His whole body was rebelling against it, but he knew that as much as he
hated it, hated hurting her, he had to do it. It was the only way he could
keep her safe from his uncle until he found a way to deal with Duncan
Gillingham.

“So…this is how it ends, then?” she murmured.

He did not know how to answer that. He could only keep quiet, standing
there before her, fists clenched behind his back.
He had adopted the pose of one who was nonchalant about the whole affair.
As if it did not matter to him as much as it did to her.

Except that it did.

Looking at the pain written clearly on her beautiful features, William had
never felt a stronger urge to hurt himself for being the cause of that pain. He
had sworn to protect her, and yet, he had still ended up hurting her—even if
it was to keep her safe.

“Very well, then.”

He gazed at her as she straightened her spine and lifted her chin defiantly.
She looked regal, like a queen regarding her subject. However, her emerald
eyes were bright with unshed tears. He knew that her pride would not allow
her to shed them in his presence, and he was glad for it.

She should never have to shed tears for anyone—least of all him.

“If that is all you have to say, Your Grace, then…I accept. You may leave,”
she nodded towards the path they had taken just earlier. “I shall not see you
to the door. I hope you understand.”

She dashed past him, rushing down the path, and he knew that she was
barely keeping herself together.
William closed his eyes and raised his face to the sky, feeling the sunshine
on his skin but not the warmth it brought. All he felt was cold. Hollow.

He knew that Selina would hate him for what he had done. It was a sacrifice
he was willing to make to ensure her safety.

For her, he would rip his heart out and tear his very being to shreds.

Selina made a mad dash for the door as tears streaked hotly down her
cheeks. Her heart had shattered into a million pieces in the garden, and she
knew she would never be able to put it back together.

William Gillingham had broken her heart—callously and without a shred of

remorse.

Perhaps she should have known that this was how things were all going to
end. She should have known that he would be a rogue, through and through.

He had taken her innocence, and now, he wanted nothing more from her.

Was all of it nothing more than a lie? Some sort of twisted game?

She could not believe that. Did not want to believe that.
She had heard him, seen his vulnerability through his eyes. Some of it had
to be real.

And yet, there was no trace left of it in the garden just a few moments ago.

Blinded by her tears, she rushed past the front door. She could not go back
to the parlor where Julia and Mary were still having tea. She could not let
her friends see her like this. Could not let anyone see her in this state.

She was so preoccupied that she never saw the familiar figure that had just
walked into the house until she crashed into him.

“Oof! What the—”

That dear, familiar voice released a string of curses, making her look up.
She gasped when she saw Andrew looking back at her. She watched as the
mischievous smile on her beloved brother’s face contorted into an
expression of rage.

“What the hell!?” he exploded. “What the hell happened to you, Selina?”

And then, all hell broke loose in the Trowbridge Estate.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 31

“Y ou bastard!”

William barely even looked up when a fist landed squarely in his jaw. His
head snapped to the side as multiple exclamations of surprise and horror
arose from those around him. Quietly, as if he had not just been hit, he put
his cards down and leveled his emotionless gaze at his attacker.

Andrew was standing before him, and he was absolutely livid. The young
Earl was shaking visibly in anger, his hands still clenched into fists at his
sides as if he might launch another volley of strikes at his best friend at any
given moment. His eyes—the same green eyes that Selina possessed—were
not dancing with merriment as they often did but were now blazing in fury.

Andrew had every right to be angry, and William deserved every bit of his
anger.

Calmly, William took out his handkerchief and wiped the trickle of blood
that had managed to make its way down the corner of his mouth. He flicked
his gaze up to his best friend.

“Shall we take this outside?” he asked him.

“No,” Andrew bit out. “We shall settle it right here.”

At those words, the manager of the exclusive gentlemen’s club went pale
with fear. He looked from between the Earl and the Duke and back again.
Both of them were extremely prized patrons of the club, but for them to be
fighting within its hallowed halls…Well, the good manager probably did
not know how to cope with such an unusual yet distressing event.

“Gentlemen, please,” he tried to placate both men. “Think of your

reputations! This is neither the time nor place for violence!”

Both men merely shot him a passing glance that expressed what they
thought of his opinions—which was to say nothing at all.

These were, after all, the Duke of Barrington and the Earl of Rowley—two
of the finest gentlemen in the city and the most sought-after bachelors in all
of London.

Both were also extremely capable of paying for whatever damages they
might incur, should they wish to brawl out their differences in the club.
The manager sighed and stepped back in defeat. “At any rate, just please try
to spare the furniture,” he bargained weakly.

“We will try,” the Earl of Rowley grinned coldly at him. “We make no
promises, however.”

William merely nodded coldly.

“Perhaps, I could interest you in an exclusive room, then?” the manager

proposed. If he put them in an exclusive room, one with much less
furniture, he might be able to control the damage these two were apparently
eager to do.

“All right,” he said in defeat. “Your Grace, Lord Rowley…please follow me

into the Green Room.”

At best, he might still get a small profit from the rather public stunt, for a
whole crowd of gentlemen had begun to gather to see what the furor was all
about. In another few moments, they would be taking bets between the two
noblemen.

His bet was on Lord Rowley—the man looked like he was willing to end
the world right there.
Inside the Green Room, Andrew eyed his best friend warily. He knew very
well that William had been trained by Gentleman Morris in Old Bond
Street, and the man was probably ruthless enough to even clobber his best
friend. He was not one to let even the smallest insult pass without some
form of retribution.

However, William had made no attempt to punch back at Andrew, even

after the stunt he had pulled earlier.

“What the hell, Barrington!?” he spat at the other man. “I left my sister
specifically in your care, and I return to find her not only brokenhearted but
brokenhearted because of you. I knew your history with women, but I
would have thought you would have the decency and common sense to
keep your hands off of Selina!”

He noticed that William flinched just the slightest bit—the only reaction
that he could get out of the man. Not that he expected any. He had known
over the course of their friendship that the Duke could be a cold-hearted
bastard if he cared to be.

“My sister!” he hissed, frustration leaching into his voice. “My own bloody
damned sister!”

Selina might like to think of herself as mature and independent, but God
only knew that she was an innocent—and one who was much too nice at
that. Even then, before he left, he had thought it a stroke of genius on his
part to leave her in the care of a man she could barely tolerate, thinking
nothing w come of it besides a heightened irritation between the two.
He could not have been more wrong, and the evidence of it was now in
Trowbridge Estate, reduced to a puddle of tears. A veritable brokenhearted
mess.

As much as he wanted to hit William for it, he knew he had a hand in it,
too. He really should not have left Selina with his best friend.

“You would not understand.”

Andrew looked up to find William with an emotionless stare. One might

even say that his eyes looked dead, all light in them gone. He had known
the Duke to be ruthless and cunning, but he had never seen an emptiness so
palpable in his best friend.

Well, maybe Selina might not be the only one suffering in all this, he
realized with sudden alacrity. It looked like William had been dragged
through the four levels of hell himself.

“Then make me understand,” he spat out.

William said nothing, and Andrew resisted the urge to pummel his best
friend until he got the truth out of him. There had to be something between
him and Selina—Andrew would not, could not believe otherwise, no matter
how both of them stubbornly refused to say anything on the matter.
“Go back, Rowley,” he answered coldly instead. “Go back home and play
chaperone to your dear sister. That should have been your role anyway, not
mine.”

Andrew clenched his fist. “How lovely. Now, you are washing your hands
clean of this.”

“She was never mine to mind.”

“I thought we were friends, Barrington,” Andrew spat out, “but you are
even more hardhearted of a bastard than I ever imagined.” He shook his
hand at the man he had once considered his best friend. “Do not darken our
doorway again. You can take your bloody stuff from Rowley House before I
throw it out with you.”

“There is no need,” William replied in an emotionless tone. “Dispose of it

as you see fit. Either way, it means nothing to me.”

Andrew knew that he was never going to get anything out of William at this
point. He left the club feeling even more confused than he had been when
he stormed in.

William dispassionately watched his once best friend leave the Green
Room. Andrew had been his oldest friend—one of the very few he could
claim that he did not need to pay or sway with his influence—and like
Selina, he was gone.
He knew that Andrew would never forgive him for hurting his sister. That
what he had done was the most unforgivable thing in the long history of
their friendship. Andrew loved his younger sister more than anything in this
world.

In a way, that was a relief. At least, Andrew was back to support Selina. She
would not have to be alone after…after William had hurt her in the worst
way possible.

“Your Grace? Your Grace—oh, thank the heavens!” The manager of the
club burst out into a relieved smile when he saw that the furniture of the
Green Room was largely untouched. No doubt about it, the man had
expected them to completely trash one of the most exclusive rooms in the
club.

He was about to make the man a great deal happier, though.

William picked up a nearby quill and began writing a generous bank draft
before handing it over to the elated manager. “See that no word of this gets
out.”

“Your Grace,” the man blinked in a comical fashion, “but-but there are
many guests outside!”
Indeed, it had been a rather busy night at the club when Andrew had barged
in, blazing with righteous anger. Most of them probably had their ears
pressed to the door when they locked themselves in the Green Room. In
fact, news of the brawl had probably spread halfway across London.

The entire Ton would already know about it in the morning.

William smirked to himself. If there was anything that could help word get
around faster, it was to do precisely the opposite and try to contain it. That
was what he meant to do when he gave the manager an absurd amount of
money to keep the matter under wraps.

When word got around that he and the Earl of Rowley had a falling out
because of Lady Selina Walford, there would be speculation—lots of it.

Speculation would afford Selina a greater degree of protection.

I am so sorry, sunbeam, he wanted to tell her. So dreadfully sorry.

However, his apologies would never reach her—not until he had gathered
the evidence against Duncan that he needed to put the man behind bars.
Forever.

Those letters in his uncle’s study could only go so far. Duncan could quite
easily claim that O’Malley had sent them to frame him. He could even
accuse the man of trying to extort money from him.
William needed O’Malley to speak up to back up his claims. If he kept
evidence of his correspondence with Duncan, that would be even better…

He clenched his fists as he stepped out amidst the wide-eyed stares of the
finely dressed gentlemen who had peered in, hoping to get a little bit more
information on the matter. Busybodies, the lot of them, with nary a
substantial thought to their collective minds.

He bounded into his waiting carriage and instructed the footman to summon
Hutchins to his study in his townhouse. He would have Duncan ended
before he ever caught wind of what William knew, and William already had
his men working doubly hard to get him the results he needed. Soon, he
would have his uncle in his grasp, and he would make him pay for the
murder of his parents.

It was all just taking much longer than he wanted.

Later that night in his study, Hutchins assured him that they were getting
more evidence. Apparently, O’Malley was finally willing to talk and
confess to his crimes as well as testify as to the mastermind behind it. Still,
they needed irrefutable proof—something that Duncan would never be able
to worm himself out of.

“Lord Gillingham is proving to be a very cautious man, Your Grace,”

Hutchins said in a regretful tone. “He has managed to clean up his tracks, so
no correspondence could be traced to him.”
William narrowed his eyes as he turned the paperweight over in his hands.
He, of all people, knew just how cunning the old lord could be. If he was
not, he would have never been able to fool everyone into thinking he had
nothing to do with his brother’s death.

“How much more time do you need?” he asked coldly.

The scarred man pressed his lips into a grim line. “A week. A sennight at
the most, Your Grace.”

William frowned. “That is much too long.”

Hutchins merely ducked his head at his employer’s displeasure. “The men
are working doubly hard on it, Your Grace.”

He nodded. These were the best men in his employ. He could not work
them any harder, or he risked compromising his own plans. He also could
not hire more men—who knew if they could be trusted?

He would have to rely on the men he had cultivated for years. With
Hutchins at the head, he was certain that they would accomplish it within
the week.
“Very well,” he conceded. “I shall give you eight days.” That was rather
generous of him. “And make sure you spare nothing—money is never an
issue.”

He had built up great reserves of wealth, all in the name of avenging his
parents’ murders. The very same wealth that his uncle apparently coveted
as well. Moving forward, William swore that his uncle would never be able
to touch a single shilling.

Duncan should be grateful that William had given him a box of his favorite
cigars just a couple of days ago. Those things tended to be expensive, and
he was soon going to find out that he no longer had access to any of his
funds.

As it turned out, he needed not wait very long. Three days after he had
secretly had his uncle’s accounts frozen all over England, Andrew came
rushing into his townhouse, his dark hair in disarray, his eyes wide with
fear.

William immediately stood up at the sight of his best friend, his heart
sinking in his chest. “Selina?” he asked him urgently.

His friend shook his head and cold dread filled William.

“They have been taken—Selina and Julia,” Andrew explained breathlessly.

“They went out for a promenade earlier today, but their carriage was
waylaid on the way home.”
William clenched his fists at his sides. It would seem that Duncan had
already caught wind of his plans and had taken the first move—something
that should put him at a slight disadvantage. Impatience never did anyone
good.

However, Duncan now also had Julia and Selina in his vile clutches. Selina.

After all his meticulous preparations, she had still been dragged into his
dangerous affairs.

“I know who took them,” he said softly. “Duncan Gillingham. My uncle.”

Andrew nodded. “I shall summon the authorities.”

“Not so fast,” he said sharply. “If you call the authorities, it will only put
both ladies in greater danger. I have no doubt that my uncle still has
connections with them. If we tip him off, he might hurt them.”

The possibility of Selina getting hurt at the hands of his uncle made
William want to be sick.

The Earl of Rowley paled at his words. “Then what are we supposed to do?
Barge in ourselves and hope for the best?”
“In a manner of speaking, yes.” He moved quickly, putting on his cloak and
tucking a pistol discreetly into his clothing.

He was going to put an end to all this himself. Duncan had crossed him for
the last time.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 32

T hree years back, Lord Duncan Gillingham had purchased a modest

hunting lodge just outside of London even though he never did
care much for shooting game. The man was an awful shot and could not
possibly shoot a wall at three paces.

At that time, William had thought that his uncle had merely invested in it as
a sort of holiday home, a place of respite outside the hustle and bustle of the
city. It was just a little strange that he purchased it with money he had
subtly pilfered from the Barrington estates and without much word of it to
anyone at all. He probably did not think that his own nephew had taken
notice of this particular investment.

But if Duncan had only cared to observe more, he would have known that
William had the tendency to meticulously track all his assets—no matter
how large or small—and this one did not go unnoticed by him. It might
have been his indifference or his generosity, but either way, he did not make
a fuss about the lodge.

If Duncan had paid more attention, he would also have observed that
William rarely forgot anything—which was why he was now striding up to
the said lodge in the middle of the night in a dark cloak, his pistol tucked
into his belt.

After hearing from Andrew that Selina and Julia had been taken by
unknown assailants, this was the first place that he deduced his uncle would
take the ladies. It was the perfect hideaway, after all, with hardly another
homestead for some distance.

William had tied his horse a short distance away so as not to alert the
occupants inside of his arrival. Before making for the hunting lodge, he had
instructed Andrew to contact Hutchins—he would need the assistance from
his ruthless aide if he was to face his uncle and rescue Selina from his
clutches.

Rowley had been adamant at first, insisting he accompany William in

storming the hunting lodge, but William had managed to convince his
friend that it would be wiser to contact Hutchins first.

He found the front door unlocked and casually entered the lodge to a sight
that made his blood run cold—in the middle of the room were Selina and
Julia, tied to two chairs and gagged. Tear stains marred the ladies’ faces,
and Julia appeared to be sporting the evidence of a blow to her cheek. The
resulting bruise stood out starkly against the redhead’s pale skin.

“Ah! My dear nephew—what a lovely surprise!” Lord Gillingham called

out jovially. “As you can see,” he eyed the two ladies with a sadistic grin, “I
have taken the liberty of inviting Lady Selina and her friend over for dinner.
After all, I had to see for myself this woman that you are so besotted with!”
The last part was said with a heavy dose of disdain.

William merely shrugged and raised an eyebrow at his uncle. “Besotted?”

he scoffed. “Do not make me laugh.”

The flash of hurt in Selina’s eyes wounded him, but he could not afford to
let it show. If his uncle caught on how much he cared for her, he just might
shoot her just to torment him. Well, perhaps he would let Humboldt do it—
the oaf was a better shot than his uncle, anyway.

“I must say I am surprised to find you here,” Lord Gillingham sneered.

“Not many know about this place.”

William smiled coldly at him. “Come now, uncle. You know that it would
be difficult to keep secrets from me when you made the purchase with my
own money—even if you used a different name for it.”

“Smart boy,” his uncle sneered, “but not smart enough to bring your friends
with you.”

“Why would I need them?” he shrugged. “As you can tell, I merely came
here to check the property you so kindly picked out for me.”

“Picked out for you?” Lord Gillingham bellowed. “Perhaps as a burial

plot!”
This time, he could not hide the rage that poured out of him. His uncle had
hidden his dark, malevolent heart for the better part of two decades. It was
only a matter of time before his mask wore down, and he showed his true
nature.

“A burial plot, you say?” William said softly, his voice low and dangerous.
“Like the one you picked out for my parents?”

His uncle smiled manically. “I figured it was you who went through my
desk, rifling the papers and poking your nose where it’s not your business.
Just like your idiot father!”

“I would think you were the one poking your nose where it does not
belong,” William replied icily. “You lusted after my mother even after she
was married to my father. Even after she told you countless times to stay
away.”

“She had no right to refuse me!” Lord Gillingham roared. “She would have
been nothing if it had not been for me. I introduced her to your father when
she would never have been able to have an audience with him. And what
did that ungrateful chit do? She traded me for a Duke!”

“I pity you,” William told him coldly. “You sought to manipulate a woman
to love you, and when she found someone she truly loved, one who did not
try to twist her mind with games, you lashed out and had her and her family
murdered. Only—” he shot his uncle a wicked grin “—you failed to even
do that.”
Duncan had wanted his whole family dead, had wanted William dead. But
in the end, the woman he had underestimated had managed to foil his plans
by hiding William in her wardrobe before the men his uncle hired could
find him and kill him.

He would make sure that was a mistake that his uncle would regret tonight.

“I should have killed you when I had the chance!” Lord Gillingham spat
out. “But first—” he turned his head towards the two ladies “—I think I
shall let you watch the woman you love die just before I kill you myself!”

“Love?” William sneered. “You always were one for theatrics, uncle. Did I
never tell you that it is unseemly at your age?”

“Liar, liar,” the old lord called out in a singsong voice. He was looking
more like a madman with each passing moment—a dangerous madman
who held Selina’s life in his hands. “I have seen the way you look at her. I
told you that, remember? Just like the way your idiot father looked at your
mother. And where are they now? Dead and buried!”

“And there you go, making another mistake again,” William sighed
dramatically. “Lady Selina means nothing to me—her friend even less so.
She was only ever meant to be a distraction—a lovely one at that. Very
useful, too. She helped me get rid of that Lady Stafford you favored so
much.”

The naked pain in Selina’s eyes made him want to kill himself for daring to
hurt her so openly. But if he did not lie about his true feelings for her,
Duncan would have Humboldt shoot her without a second thought.

“A distraction, eh?”

“You can ask her if you want,” he shrugged at his uncle. “I have not seen
her for the past few days. You know I tend to…not stay with a woman for
very long.”

He saw his uncle waver, looking from Selina to him and back again. He
also saw, from the corner of his eye, Andrew sneaking in from the back. His
best friend held a pistol at the ready. William subtly flicked his eyes in the
direction of the two ladies still tied to their chairs—they were the priority.

He would deal with Humboldt and his uncle.

Thankfully, Andrew acknowledged his signal with a quiet nod, just before
he launched himself in front of Lady Julia Lewis.

Without so much as a word, William swiftly drew his pistol out from
beneath his cloak and shot Humboldt dead in the chest. The lumbering
henchman staggered back, the look of surprise on his face would have been
almost comical if he was not dying. He clutched at his chest, his gun falling
to his side before he, too, fell down, unmoving.

Dead.
His uncle stumbled back as William roared at Andrew, “Get them the hell
out of here!”

“What about you?” his best friend flung back.

But William only stared at his uncle who had begun to crawl back away
from him, his eyes wide with terror. William tucked his pistol back in and
drew out a knife. He smiled coldly at the sight before him.

“I have things to take care of,” he said softly.

He was going to end everything tonight.

Selina heard a bloodcurdling scream coming from inside the hunting lodge.
She turned around, hoping to see William behind them even when she knew
that he was not there.

“Selina!” her brother urged her. “Don’t look back, for God’s sake! Keep
moving forward!”

She felt her hand being squeezed tightly, and she looked up to find Julia,
her blue eyes wide with terror. For the first time ever, her best friend did not
argue with Andrew and wordlessly, insistently began pulling Selina away
from the building.
They finally managed to stumble out the doors, the cold night air biting at
her cheeks. Andrew threw his coat over her, and she drew Julia in with her
as they both huddled together.

“William…is he…?” She dared not finish. Dared not truly ask about him.

She had thought she knew him, knew his soul. His heart.

She had been wrong on so many levels. The man she had seen tonight was
nothing like the man she had fallen in love with.

A diversion, he had called her, and the pain ripped through her anew.

“He will be all right,” Andrew replied grimly. “It would take a hell of a lot
to kill that bastard.”

Selina thought that it should have been a relief to hear that. Even if he had
just torn her heart apart and stomped on it, she still worried about him,
curse her ever gullible heart.

The next few minutes passed by in a blur for Selina. She vaguely heard the
sound of hoofbeats clattering closer, saw the nondescript carriage draw
near. A footman jumped off from the back, and she wanted to laugh and
weep when she saw the same scarred man that William often sent to deliver
his messages to her. Hutchins, he had said his name was.
“His Grace?” he asked Andrew brusquely.

“Still inside the lodge,” her brother replied with a slight tilt of his head,
“with Lord Gillingham.”

Hutchins nodded and opened the carriage door. “My Ladies, please go
inside where it is much warmer.”

Selina had not wanted to go near that carriage, or anything of William’s

ever again, but Julia had pulled her hand, pleading at her with wide eyes.

“Can we—can we at least wait for His Grace?” she asked. She turned to her
brother. “Just to see if he is all right…”

For a moment, she feared that Andrew would refuse. That he would tell the
coachman to hurry them back to London instead. But then he nodded
tersely, and Selina sighed in relief, leaning back against the upholstered
interior of the carriage.

When she and Julia went out to Hyde Park to promenade, neither of them
ever imagined that this was how the rest of the day would unfold. Their
carriage had been waylaid on the way home, their servants and companions
knocked out. Both of them had been dragged out by that hulking man that
Lord Gillingham had called Humboldt.
When she saw the older lord, she had not recognized him at first. It was
only after William arrived so suddenly that she began to put the pieces of
the puzzle together in her mind—that his uncle had abducted her to deal
with William in some sick form of revenge.

Julia had been taken as well, merely because Humboldt was not quite so
sure which one of them was Lady Selina. For all his size and physical
prowess, Lord Gillingham’s henchman did not seem to be a very bright
person.

Moments later, she saw William striding towards their carriage with
Hutchins trailing behind him. Her heart soared at the sight. He was safe!

However, her initial relief immediately gave way to horror when he was
finally close enough for her to see him clearly. Her hand flew to her mouth
in a choked scream because he was covered in blood.

“Selina?”

She turned to Julia, who was looking at her solemnly. “Do you still want to
talk to him?” her best friend asked her.

She shook her head. There was no need to talk now. She had seen all that
she needed to see, learned all that she needed to know.
Andrew poked his head into the carriage. “Barrington appears perfectly
fine,” he told them. “He said that Lord Gillingham bought this hunting
lodge a few years back to retire from the city. He also said that he has taken
care of everything, and you do not need to worry about anything at all.”

How very much like William to say something like that.

“Oh,” Selina muttered. Her expression clearly told him that she did not
believe a single word he said.

Her brother remained steadfast, though. “That is what he said.”

She pursed her lips. “Very well,” she said quietly, “let us be off.”

Andrew nodded and told the coachman to head back for the Trowbridge
Estate in London before taking the seat beside Julia. The redhead glanced at
him anxiously before subtly leaning into him. Her brother, for once, did not
say anything, nor did he push her away as he was wont to do.

Selina never looked back. If she did, she was afraid her heart would break
all over again, and she did not know if she could survive it all over again.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 33

N ews of the demise of Lord Duncan Gillingham and the

circumstances surrounding it exploded into a great scandal not
even two days after that fateful day. William had a hell of a time trying to
explain to the authorities what had happened, but with the testimonies that
Selina, Andrew, and Julia had submitted, combined with the physical
evidence of the correspondence between his uncle and the men he hired to
kill the previous Duke of Barrington, it was clear to everyone with even the
slightest cognition that he was merely trying to rescue and protect the
young ladies.

That particular tidbit had sent many young ladies into a swoon. With
increased fervor, their mamas would have beat a path down to the door of
his townhouse if William had not been too busy to pay even the slightest
heed to them.

But as much as he wanted to rush to Trowbridge Estate, there were still a lot
of matters to smooth over. Just because his uncle was dead, and he finally
got his revenge after more than two decades, did not mean that everything
was all right. With his death, Duncan had left a trail of dubious and shady
transactions, and dealing with them was proving to be a greater headache
than William had ever imagined.
There was also the matter of his return to Barrington Estate which he had
long neglected after the death of his parents. With Duncan gone, he knew
that he could not ignore it much longer. Besides, it was his ducal seat—he
was not going to allow the specter of his uncle to ruin the legacy that his
parents had left him.

Finally, the ghosts of Barrington Estate would be at peace.

Still, William sent Selina countless letters—all through Hutchins, of course

—but Andrew had turned them all away. Those that made it to Selina were
also swiftly rejected.

It would come as no surprise that it took him a good fortnight to summon

the nerve to approach Trowbridge Estate. He needed to apologize to Selina,
needed to make her understand that all of it—him hurting her—was to keep
her safe from his uncle.

But most of all, he just wanted to see her. To bask in her soft radiance once
more.

He raised his hand to knock on the door of Trowbridge Estate, clutching a

bouquet of yellow tulips in his other hand. He was surprised when he was
met with a fist in his face. He staggered back, cursing under his breath.
“What the hell—” he muttered, rubbing his jaw. He glared up at Andrew,
who had apparently seen him hesitate at the door and decided to wait as
patiently as he could before planting a hook on him.

“Took you long enough to haul your bloody self over, Barrington,” his best
friend scoffed, shaking his hand. “But not long enough.”

William glowered at his best friend. “There were a lot of things that needed
my attention.”

“I gathered there would be.”

It was clear that Andrew was not going to give him an easy time. The man
had definitely set himself against William—which annoyed him to no end.
If he did not know for certain that it was out of a fierce loyalty to Selina, he
might have been tempted to beat Andrew up.

He cleared his throat. “I came here to visit Lady Selina.”

“Well, gee, thanks,” Andrew smiled sarcastically. “I was beginning to

wonder if those flowers were for me.”

William was now tempted to shove the flowers he had brought into his
friend’s face.
“Of course, they are for her,” he replied. “Do not be daft, Rowley. I meant
—” he took a deep breath and looked him squarely in the eye “—I meant to
apologize to her, to explain everything…I want her to hear the words from
me, at least.”

He was humbling himself before Selina’s brother, of all people, but he

would sacrifice more than just his pride and dignity just to be able to see her
again.

Andrew crossed his arms over his chest and raised an eyebrow at him.
“Well, you brought them to the wrong place. Selina is not here.”

“What the hell do you mean, she is not here?”

Panic and confusion arose in him. He knew he should have made sure she
was all right after that entire debacle with his uncle. He had only kept
himself away to clean up Duncan’s mess and make sure that Selina would
truly be safe.

What if the shock from that night had truly affected her? Had the best
physicians in London been summoned to assess her?

Andrew seemed to note the conflicting emotions running through him and
finally took pity on him.
“She decided to take a sojourn into my father’s rural estate,” he explained to
the bewildered Duke. “Figured the fresh air would do her a world of good.
Besides, everyone was beating down our door to talk to her. You know how
dreadful those gossips can be.”

And he had left her alone to face them. William wanted to hit himself for
not even considering that. He might have kept her safe from his uncle’s
remaining henchmen, but he’d all but thrown her into the wolves of the Ton
by keeping away from her.

He turned around and strode away from the front door when Andrew called
out, “You’re still a first-class bastard, you know that?”

William paused and admitted quietly, “Yes, but I am the first-class bastard
who loves your sister.”

“Good,” the Earl shot back at him. “That does not mean you deserve her,
though. Lord Hartford is looking like a better choice right now—”

He knew that Andrew was trying to rile him by mentioning another man’s
name in association to Selina. And after all he did, she was well within her
rights to seek a better match—at least one that would not put her in harm’s
way.

But he also knew that no one could ever love her more than he did. He
would give his life for her smile.
“—but I suppose you will do,” Andrew added. A wicked smile lit up his
face. “That is if she will still have your stubborn, arrogant ass.”

“I will do my very best to convince her,” William promised him solemnly.

The young Earl rolled his eyes at him. “I could never understand what she
sees in you. You might be the best thing for her right now,” he admitted,
“but that does not mean I won’t punch you if you ever dare hurt her again!”

“If I ever hurt her, I will kill myself.”

“Good God, Barrington! What the hell has my sister done to you? Who
would have thought Selina would have you resorting to theatrics?” he
laughed and waved his friend away. “Go to her, then. Hopefully, by the time
you both sort things out, the desire to hit you will have faded somewhat.”

William had no doubt it would. He was willing to make peace with Andrew
for the sake of Selina. Their friendship was important to him, but nothing
was more important than Selina herself.

Wyndham Hall was known for its gardens—sprawling grounds of verdant

green and profuse blooms that went on well until the end of the social
Season. For the past few years, Selina had only returned to the country
estate when all the flowers had gone, but this year, she was able to catch the
last of the summer blooms.
She turned her face to the sun as she walked past the rows of carefully
tended blooms, her hands brushing past them as she went. Ever since she
had arrived at Wyndham Hall, she had sought the solace of its gardens,
wondering if her mother would be against her staying here for the rest of
her life.

After everything that had happened in London—her failed courtship with

the Duke of Barrington and her harrowing ordeal at the hands of Lord
Gillingham—she found the peace in the countryside rather calming. Like a
balm to her wounded soul.

She had heard that Julia and Mary had also left for their own countryside
estates, amidst the scandal that had erupted in London. It truly was a wise
decision.

If only she could stay here for much, much longer…

“My dear daughter.”

She stilled at the sound of that familiar voice, just as she had remembered
from her girlhood. She turned around to face her mother, the Marchioness
of Trowbridge and architect of the gardens of Wyndham Hall. Her softly
graying hair was in a loose chignon at the back of her neck. She wore a lilac
day dress and had a shawl over her shoulders.

“Mama.” Selina nodded politely at her mother. “I thought it would be some

time before you returned to Wyndham Hall…”
The Marchioness waved her hand dismissively. “London has become
dreadfully boring these past few days.”

Selina attempted a smile for her mother. For as long as she could remember,
Ellen Walford hardly paid any attention to her daughter, preferring to
occupy herself with the latest fashions and gossip, like most other
noblewomen of the Ton. She was forever surrounded by her friends and was
seldom around her own children, foisting them off on governesses and
servants alike.

“Wyndham certainly is more peaceful,” she replied quietly. She did not
know what to say to her mother, who had grown to become more of a
stranger the past few years. “It would be lovely to spend the rest of my life
in here…”

Her mother gave her a look of surprise. “My dear, it has never occurred to
me that you would be one to back down from a challenge.”

“I beg your pardon?” she gawked at the Marchioness.

“I meant,” Lady Walford clarified, “that whole messy business with the
Duke of Barrington…Are you truly going to let him get the best of you?”

Selina wanted to laugh and choke on her tears at the same time. “I have
nothing to do with His Grace,” she said bitterly. “Andrew merely entrusted
him to me while he was on his trip.”

Really, there was all there was to it. She should not have dared to assume
that there was something more between them. He was an ambitious and
arrogant man; she was merely the fool who fell for his charms.

It was a tale as old as time.

“So, your solution is to hide away in the country?” her mother sighed.
“Dooming yourself to the life of a spinster…” She shot her daughter a
reproachful look. “I thought better of you.”

“What would you know?” Selina burst out. “You were never there for me,
Mama—I had to contend with managing my way through three Seasons
when you should have been there for me.”

The Marchioness looked taken aback. “I did not think that you needed
much managing,” she said simply as if that was the answer to everything.
“And you know that I am nothing like those other mamas making fools of
themselves, chasing after every poor gentleman, begging them to marry
their daughters.” Her tone clearly conveyed her distaste. “You would not
believe the kind of gossip that follows their ilk.”

Her mother would never admit to her mistakes, and Selina would only
resent her more for it. Perhaps it truly was better that they did not talk much
after all, for it would only end up in an argument that would add to the
wounds of her heart. She had come to Wyndham Hall to recover, not to be
injured all over again.
“You have never given me cause for worry,” Lady Trowbridge continued.
“You were rather sensible, even with your hopeless naiveté. Lord Vermont
was a close brush, and I feared that your father would allow the man to ask
for your hand in marriage. The Duke of Barrington, though—that one I did
not see coming.”

“Well, I am so sorry to disappoint you, but there is nothing between me and

His Grace,” Selina told her. “We have called off our courtship and I—”

“You have anticipated your marriage vows, I presume,” her mother

interjected with a shrewd look in her eyes. “My dear, I might not stay at
Trowbridge Estate much, but the servants still me tell a great many things—
even your nocturnal visits to your neighbor.”

Selina flushed. “So, you knew? And you never stopped me?”

“Why should I? The man was so besotted with you that I thought you did a
great deal better than I did with your father. I was not about to interrupt
something that was already going rather well.”

Selina pursed her lips as she glared at her mother. “So, you already know
that any man who catches even a single whiff of what you know will never
marry me, right?”
It was only a matter of time before the rest of the Ton found out, and when
they did, she would be ruined. She would become a social pariah, and even
her friends would be disgraced for associating with her.

“Perhaps,” her mother replied serenely, “but we are not talking about just
any man, darling.”

“What do you mean?”

“I meant His Grace.”

Selina burst out laughing. “Mama, you cannot possibly be serious! He does
not want me—he’s already had all that he wanted out of me. His Grace,”
she said, tears streaming down her eyes. “His Grace found me wanting. He
will never marry me.”

“All right. Then what is he doing here, might I ask?”

Selina froze and looked up to find her mother smiling with supreme
satisfaction. She turned around to a sight that could only have come from
her wildest dreams.

Striding towards them in the bright afternoon sunlight was none other than
William himself.
He had forsaken his usually impeccably tied cravat, and his linen shirt was
opened at the throat. His coat, although of fine make, was decidedly plainer
than the ones he had worn while in London. He also looked like he had not
slept in days, and there was the suspicious shadow of stubble on his strong
jaw.

It was him. It really was him!

“I shall leave you two to discuss things more privately,” Lady Trowbridge
said with a shrewd smile.

“Are you truly going to leave me here without a chaperone?” Selina asked
her mother angrily.

The Marchioness merely shot the Duke a look. “I trust that His Grace
would not do anything appropriate, would you, Your Grace?”

“I shall assure you that I shall act the complete gentleman toward Lady
Selina, My Lady,” William reassured her. The sound of his voice, low and
sensuous, was enough to make Selina clench her hands into fists.

“Very well then.”

Selina watched her mother leave with a look akin to despair. As if she had
lost her final ally—no matter how unreliable the Marchioness of
Trowbridge may be.
And she was standing there, right before him—the man that she had tried so
hard to hate, only to find that she could not. Could never.

“What are you doing here, Your Grace?” she asked him scathingly. “What
business brings you here so far away from London?”

“You,” he said solemnly. “Only you, Selina.”

“Do not call me that!” she shot back at him. “You have no right to call me
that or-or talk t-to me as if you c-care!”

To her horror, her voice was breaking. She could feel the scalding tears
welling up in her eyes.

“I will do everything,” he promised her softly. “Anything. As long as you

forgive me, Selina. I would give my entire life to it.”

“Then you might as well go back to London!” she spat at him. “For it will
be an exercise in futility, Your Grace!”

“I am willing to wait for however long it takes,” he said gently. “Until you
are ready. I know that it will take some time, so I have purchased Mulberry
House—”
She gaped up at him. Mulberry House was the closest residence to
Wyndham Hall and was just as large. She reckoned that it would not have
come so cheaply. For him to just purchase it…

“Good!” she scoffed at him. “Then you can stay there and wait for however
long you like!”

She picked up her skirts and stomped back into the house. She did not even
look back to see if he cared to follow her or if he was still standing there in
the gardens as still as a statue.

Let him stay there for as long as he liked! She would not hand over her
heart to him so easily like she did last time!

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 34

O ver the course of a fortnight, Selina began to realize just how

persistent William could be. He called on Wyndham Hall every single
morning, had expensive flowers delivered to her and the Marchioness, and
had become rather familiar with her own mother. In fact, she was quite sure
that it was one of his tactics to persuade her to forgive him and trust him.

Unfortunately, she never had much of a relationship with her mother, so her
opinion meant very little to Selina. It did manage to wear her down,
however.

Just a little, of course.

“My dear, you have to give the man credit for his tenacity,” Lady
Trowbridge preened as she admired the flowers the Duke had sent her that
morning. “Even your father did not ply me with this many flowers, and to
think, I adore the things more than you do.”

Selina decided that she might have to stop having breakfast with her mother
altogether if all they could talk about was William.
“Yes, but Papa never pretended to be something he was not, did he?” she
replied angrily. “Do not be fooled by his…his actions, Mama.”

“He has already slept outside our front door twice,” her mother pointed out.
“And you know what they do say—actions mean more than words. You
only heard the hurtful things he said to you, but his actions speak otherwise.
I think that it is something you might want to consider, darling.”

She had never had such an extended conversation with her mother prior to
the Duke of Barrington openly courting her at Wyndham Hall. Their
interests, sadly, never converged, and it seemed that they were still on
opposite sides on this matter.

This is all Andrew’s fault! Selina wanted to pull at her hair. She needed to
have a word with her brother soon. She had initially gathered that it would
take William quite some time to learn that she had gone to Wyndham Hall if
only Andrew had not told him about it.

Now, she had to hear of William’s grand displays of love from her own
mother, who could not even be bothered with her past three Seasons.

“I had Jeanne take that gorgeous emerald necklace he sent you yesterday,”
Lady Trowbridge continued without a thought to her daughter’s darkening
countenance. “His Grace is extremely generous, is he not?”
“Highly inappropriate as well,” Selina snapped. “Such gifts are much too
intimate and should not be given because we are neither engaged nor
married.”

“Well, if he can be this generous during courtship, then you are all set for
marriage,” her mother countered. “Enjoy it while you can, darling.”

Selina decided that tuning out her mother’s constant approval of the Duke
would be far more beneficial to her sanity. Lady Trowbridge was proving to
be just as tenacious as William himself—a fact that Selina did not relish at
all.

He did not need to give her gifts or camp out at her door, for heaven’s sake!
She just wanted to be left in peace to nurse her own battered heart.

To his credit though, he did not force her to have an audience with him
although he might as well have done so with the constant stream of gifts
that arrived at Wyndham Hall like clockwork. Their country estate had
become some sort of repository for all the things he had bought her.
Everywhere she looked, there would be something from him. How was she
supposed to find some peace from it all?

By the time Andrew casually strolled into Wyndham Hall to see how she
was doing, she was feeling so worn down that she hardly had any strength
left to berate him for telling William where she had been hiding.

“It seems you are holding up much better than I expected,” he grinned at
her. “And you’ve also managed to give him hell for it. Very, very good!”
She could hardly muster the anger required for a proper glare at her carefree
sibling. “If you had not told him where I was, I could have spent the rest of
this year in peace.”

“Oh, come off it, dear sister.” Andrew threw her a pained look. “You know
that he would have found out either way. In any case, William walking up
to Trowbridge Estate was a good opportunity for me to plant a nice hook
into his jaw on your behalf.”

Selina choked out a horrified giggle. “I know that I should not have found
that entertaining, but I suppose I was tempted to do it myself.”

“You could, you know?” Andrew waggled his eyebrows at her. “The man
would willingly allow you to shoot him if it came down to it. He’d probably
load the pistol and hand it to you himself.”

Somehow, she knew that was the truth—William truly looked as if he was
willing to go to whatever lengths necessary to attain her forgiveness, even if
it meant putting himself in harm’s way. She hoped it would not come to
that, though, for the thought of William being hurt made her stomach turn.

“I do not want to hurt him, truly,” she admitted to her brother. “I just…I
wanted to give myself some time, and as much as I hate to admit it, he is
giving me just that. He just never fails to remind me of his presence,
though.”
It was like having a puppy that demanded one’s attention at every turn—to
kick it would only make her hate herself.

“Unfortunately for you, it seems that Mama simply adores the idea of
becoming mother to a Duchess,” Andrew grinned at her. “I heard she has
been more insufferable than usual.”

“Like nothing else!” Selina seconded in exasperation. “I am of the mind to

tell her to marry him herself!”

“Except that William is set on you, and if there is anything I know about
him, it is that he has a single-minded focus on the things he wants.”

“Great. That just makes me feel like some sort of game.”

“You know he would never shoot you.”

She recalled how William had shot his uncle’s personal aide with deadly
accuracy, even as he put himself before her to protect her from incoming
fire. On some nights, she would wake up from that nightmare, drenched in
sweat.

What she did not want to admit even to herself was that she longed for
William to be there with her during those frightening moments, just so she
could be sure that he was safe and unharmed.
“Well, dear sister,” Andrew teased her, “it would be best if you prepared
yourself for the grand festivities Mama has planned for the next day.”

“She already had the modiste concoct an entire wardrobe for me just for this
one night,” Selina sighed. “I suppose she could not have me embarrassing
her at her own ball.” She flashed her brother a mischievous grin. “Perhaps
she intends to finally find a bride for you as well, dear brother.”

“Heaven forbid!” The look of horror on Andrew’s face was quite comical.
“I rather enjoy the life I am living right now, thank you very much.”

“You know how Society mamas can be quite adamant at seeing their
children happily married,” she sighed theatrically. “Perhaps Mama finally
means to do her duty to the Trowbridge heir and find you a suitable wife.
Perhaps that is a worthy endeavor that could keep her off my back.”

“Oh! You are quite ruthless, you know that?”

“Touché, brother dear.”

Both siblings shared a knowing look before bursting out in laughter. It was
how Lady Trowbridge found them both, clutching at their bellies, doubled
over in laughter.

“Andrew!” she exclaimed, seizing her son’s arm without hesitation. “Why
did you not tell me you have arrived? Guess what? Lady Merton is bringing
her youngest daughter over for the ball. You should meet her. Such a lovely
young lady…”

Andrew shot Selina a look begging for help, but she only smiled wickedly
and fluttered her fingers at him. It was payback time for leading the Duke to
Wyndham Hall.

Hopefully, Lady Merton’s daughter was as lovely as her mother professed

her to be, but Selina had already seen the two older daughters. If her older
sisters were anything to go by, then for Andrew’s sake, she hoped this
youngest daughter left in Lady Merton’s care was everything her older
sisters were not.

William had received the invitation for Lady Trowbridge’s ball not even a
week since he arrived at Mulberry House. The Marchioness had remarkably
been kind to him, even as Selina continued to avoid him. He knew that it
could not be helped—he had hurt her too much, so he needed to make up
for all the wounds he had inflicted upon her.

He would take any ally he could get in his efforts to win back her trust—
even if it was her own mother. When he thought of how desperate he was
that he would be grateful for the assistance of a matchmaking mama, it
nearly made him laugh.

As Andrew would tell him—how the mighty have fallen!

And fallen he had indeed, William thought with a wry smile as he flicked
open the small box that had been one of the important tasks for his previous
visit to Barrington Estate. The sunlight caught the brilliant emerald that was
nestled within the deep blue velvet, surrounded by a row of tiny diamonds.
He thought of Selina’s brilliant green eyes, and the emerald necklace he had
sent over yesterday. She would undoubtedly look beautiful in it, the jewels
bringing out the vibrant color of her eyes.

His mother’s engagement ring—he would present it to her at the ball her
mother was throwing in a few days. Of all the jewelry he ever inherited and
owned, this was the most precious.

He had only ever seen his mother show it to him on occasion when he was a
young boy. On the last one, she had impressed to him the importance of the
ring—and how she intended for him to give it to the woman he was going
to marry.

William had already decided that whether Selina forgave him right away or
in the next two decades, his mother’s ring would sit on no one else’s finger
but hers.

She was the only Duchess he would ever marry, and he did not care how
long he had to wait for her. He only knew that she was going to be worth it.

He was so deep in thought that he did not notice the polite knock on his
door until his valet quietly entered his study.
“Your Grace, shall I prepare the claret or the midnight velvet for Lady
Trowbridge’s ball?” Pendleton asked him.

William inwardly admitted to himself that he had never been at a dilemma

as to what to wear at a ball. He had never felt compelled to impress
anybody else before. Was it so wrong that he wanted to make a good
impression on Selina?

He could not afford to dress shabbily, and yet, at the same time, he could
not possibly parade around like a damned peacock.

The claret would be too eye-catching, and the midnight velvet was
something he felt a dozen young bucks would be wearing. He decided to go
for something that best represented him.

“I shall go for the black, Pendleton.”

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 35

“W hat a lovely ball, Lady Trowbridge—perhaps as lovely as

young Lady Selina,” Lady Maxwell simpered, casting a sly
glance in Selina’s direction. “I heard that His Grace had taken up residence
nearby. Is this true?”

Selina wanted to roll her eyes. As she had expected, her mother’s friends
were only interested in much the same things as the Marchioness—fashion
and gossip. Lady Maxwell seemed to inordinately gravitate towards the
latter.

“Yes, His Grace has purchased Mulberry House,” Lady Trowbridge

confided.

“Well, it cannot be for the fresh air,” Lady Maxwell tittered, eyeing Selina
with a knowing look.

“Come now, do not speculate so, Augusta. Who knows why His Grace
made such an investment? Who are we to try to guess what goes on in the
mind of a Duke?”
Selina glanced at her mother with some surprise. After years of
maneuvering her way into the Ton, Ellen Walford displayed a deftness in
handling some of the most notorious gossips in London while being one
herself.

I suppose it does take one to know one, Selina thought to herself.

The ballroom of Wyndham Hall was now filled with guests mingling about,
but there was still no sign of William. She had expected him to be one of
the earliest to arrive, and her stomach churned with every passing minute
that the footman did not announce his arrival.

She grabbed a glass of wine from a passing footman, just as Julia and Mary
joined her.

“Upon my word, I have never seen you have such a fondness for wine,
dearest!” the redhead exclaimed as she snagged one for herself. She raised
it in Selina’s direction. “To surviving madmen.”

Selina smiled weakly as she raised her wineglass in response. “And all the
other adversities in life.”

Mary chose to forgo the liquor and lightly sipped at some lemonade.
“I am so glad you were able to make it all the way here to Wyndham,” she
told the sisters.

The younger Lewis smiled softly. “Huxley is not that far from Wyndham,
and I was already going out of my mind being forced to spend so much time
with Julia.”

“Hey!” her older sister protested. “That was uncalled for.”

“But rather honest,” a male voice chimed in.

All three young ladies turned around to find Andrew with his eyebrow
quirked in Julia’s direction. “So nice to see you in good spirits, Red.”

Selina thought she spotted a slight flush in her best friend’s cheeks but
thought nothing of it.

“I feel my good spirits already deflating with your arrival, Lord Rowley,”
Julia quipped with a tight smile. “But thank you…for coming to our
rescue.”

Her brother seemed surprised to hear her sincere expression of gratitude.

“There might be hope for you yet, Red,” he muttered before he turned
around and headed off to join a group of young gentlemen in another corner
of the ballroom.
“Your mama must be feeling a bit worried about him,” Mary noted. “I recall
that before Anthony married, Mama was greatly preoccupied with
introducing him to every marriageable young lady in London!”

“Now, she is worried about you and Julia,” Selina teased her quiet friend.

“To our everlasting apprehension—but there might be more hope for Julia
yet.”

Selina shot the redhead a look. “What do you mean? Has someone asked
for your hand? This is great news!”

“Not so much,” Julia groused. “Lord Cosby is a dreadful bore.”

“Then perhaps you should consider—” Mary stopped when her sister shot
her a warning look. “Well, you will find someone else; I am sure of it.”

Selina caught the look the two sisters shared but could not ask more about
it, for the footman had finally called out the name she had been dreading
and anticipating the whole night—

“His Grace, the Duke of Barrington!”

A strange hush fell over the ballroom, and as much as she tried, Selina
could not help but find her eyes drawn to the very top of the staircase where
he had slowly begun his descent. For a moment, he surveyed the ballroom
with a largely disinterested air before his deep blue eyes settled on her. She
tried to look away, but it was already too late—she was ensnared by his
gaze.

Ever so slowly, he made his way to her, and the crowd parted ways to allow
him passage. From the corner of her eye, Selina saw Miss Hermione
Barnaby whisper something to her friends from behind her fan. However,
none of them mattered anymore as William extended a gloved hand towards
her.

“My Lady, would you honor me with this dance?”

To refuse him would be tantamount to declaring that she intended to stand

by and forgo dancing the entire night—something she could not very well
do, considering it was her own mother throwing this ball.

She caught her brother looking at her from the other side of the room. With
a soft smile, he nodded subtly at her.

She took a deep breath and looked up to William—the man she had loved
so much who had hurt her greatly. Trembling, she placed her gloved hand
into his.

“It would be a pleasure, Your Grace.”

It had been so long since he had held her. He had felt that it must have been
an eternity, a hell that he suffered through as punishment for his cruelty to
her.

They bowed to each other as the music started, and he soon found their
bodies moving in familiar motions. He had never had a better dance partner
than Selina herself. It was as if their souls knew how their bodies should
flow.

“How are you feeling now, sunbeam?” he asked her softly, his deep blue
eyes solemn.

She appeared surprised by his question for a moment. “Better, Your Grace.”

“I am glad.”

He had kept his distance from her, knowing that she needed to heal. He had
given her time and space to nurse her battered heart, and at the same time,
he made sure to keep a close watch on her. He swore that he would never
stay far enough from her for some harm to befall her once more. Even the
Marchioness of Trowbridge had looked on him with some pity and
amusement when she found him sleeping on the front door of Wyndham
Hall and even once in the rain.

“I know you are not inclined to forgive me,” he told her softly, “but you
also know that I will persist until there is no breath left in me. I will give
my life to making amends to you, sunbeam.”
She raised an eyebrow at his somber declaration. “Are you trying to warn
me that I will be unable to shake you off, Your Grace?”

“I would not dare,” he smiled humorlessly at her. “I am not in the position

to tell you what you should and should not do.”

“Well, that is some development from the likes of you.”

“That is because I mean to better myself for you, sunbeam.” He whirled her
around and caught her in his arms. She felt her breath hitch briefly. “Every
single day for the rest of my life.”

“Such dramatic words,” she scoffed. “Have you been learning from
Andrew?”

“How? He will barely talk to me.”

She smiled a little at that. “You deserve it.”

“Without a doubt,” he averred.

As the dance drew to a close, he held her one last time and whispered into
her ear, “There is something I must tell you, sunbeam. Meet me in the
gardens later by the gazebo. I shall be waiting.”

“And what if I do not come?” she shot back.

“I will still be there, waiting for you.” The music stopped, and he bowed
gallantly to her. “Thank you for gracing me with your attention for this brief
moment, Lady Selina.”

He led her back to her friends and caught Mary Lewis regarding him with a
soft smile. It was a small reassurance but one he greatly appreciated,
nonetheless. There was always a reason he liked the younger Lewis better,
and it was because she was much more perceptive than anyone else in the
Ton. It would be a grave mistake to underestimate this unassuming young
Miss who embraced the identity of a wallflower so gracefully.

With a heavy heart, he watched as Sir Murdoch asked Selina for a dance
and led her out onto the dance floor. He would wait for her in the gardens,
as he promised.

For now, waiting was all he can do.

Selina had danced with four other young gentlemen, who appeared to be
more eager to dance with her for the sheer reason that she had caught the
Duke of Barrington’s affections. She smiled wryly at that—catching
affections…Truly, why do they say it as if one caught a cold or something
similar?
Perhaps because it makes you feel rather ill inside, she thought.

She looked around and found that William was nowhere to be seen in the
ballroom.

“He left for the gardens earlier this evening,” Mary told her softly with a
knowing gleam in her eyes. “His Grace.”

Selina sniffed. “He is probably trysting with another foolish young lady as
we speak.”

“You know he is alone, Selina.”

Yes, I know that!

She bit at her lower lip. “I do not know if I can trust him not to break my
heart again, Mary.”

Not when the first time hurt so very badly. She felt that she would not be
able to survive a second blow.

She felt her hand being squeezed, and she looked up to find her friend
giving her a reassuring look. “I know that you have been hurt, and you are
scared. I also know that you are one of the bravest young women I have
ever had the good fortune to know.”

Selina laughed halfheartedly. “There is a fine line between bravery and

foolishness, it would seem.”

“To trust means that you do not have to see the entire path laid out before
you, Selina,” Mary reminded her gently. “It is taking one step at a time
despite not knowing where it will lead. Knowing that you will have
someone walking beside you makes the journey all the more worthwhile.”
She drew back and smiled at her. “You know you have already made your
decision, dearest. You only need the courage to do it, to trust that when you
fall this time, he will be there to catch you.”

Selina looked longingly towards the gardens. They seemed dark and
foreboding, the perfect setting for a scandal.

She turned to her friend and smiled gratefully at her. “Thank you, Mary.”

She picked up her skirts and made her way out of the double doors and into
the gardens.

OceanofPDF.com
 EPILOGUE

She’s not coming.

William clenched his fist as he turned towards the gazebo he had carefully
set up for Selina. There was a profusion of flowers arranged artistically into
the columns. A soft rug was draped over the bench to make it more inviting,
and a handful of cushions had been thrown in for good measure. Several
lamps were set on the ground, trailing down the path towards the house
itself.

It was beautiful—not that he could appreciate something like that—but he

had thought she might like it, and he was willing to do and to give her
whatever her heart desired.

But what if she truly wanted him to stay away from her? Would he have the
courage to heed her wishes, then?

He glanced at his pocket watch. It was already well past midnight, and the
ball inside was still in full swing. From where he stood in the garden, the
sounds of music, laughter, and chatter, drifted towards him. By now, his
absence would have been noticeable already…

He turned away from Wyndham House when he heard the rustle of bushes
and footsteps, light and quick, whispering softly into the night. William
turned around to find Selina standing before him. Her cheeks were flushed,
her chest rising and falling with her breath. Several tendrils of her hair had
escaped her coif and gently waved in the breeze. In the darkness, her eyes
were luminous emeralds, lit by moonlight and lamplight.

William could not help but smile.

“I apologize for my delay,” she burst out. “I was waylaid by Lady Maxwell,
and it took a tremendous effort to shake her off…”

As she rattled off her excuse breathlessly, all William could think about was
how damned beautiful she was—and how much he missed her. He stretched
his arm out, holding his hand out towards her.

“Sunbeam.”

She raised her glorious eyes to his. “Yes?”

“Come here.”

He did not care about Lady Maxwell or the ballroom full of people just a
short distance away from them. All that mattered to him was that she came.

That she was here with him.

She stiffened at the sound of his low voice. William began to fear that he
might have used a more commanding tone, and he knew that she did not
take lightly to being ordered around—even by him.

But then, she picked up her skirt and took one, two, three steps towards him
before rushing into his arms. She raised her face towards him, and their
mouths crashed together, the kiss embodying their fierce passion and
longing for each other. Their tongues tangled together as their teeth scraped
against each other.
“I am so sorry,” she whispered, her warm breath fanning across his cheek as
he leaned down to breathe in the scent of her neck.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, sunbeam,” he murmured against her

neck. “It was I who hurt you. You were only trying to protect your heart.”

She bit her lower lip. “From you.”

He smiled roguishly at her as he ran a knuckle gently over the curve of her
cheek. “I would have you know that nothing you could have done would
have hurt me more than I hurt myself,” he told her. “I had only meant to
protect you, even if it meant hurting you. I had no idea that breaking your
heart would be a torment worse than hell itself.”

“Why did you do it, anyway?” she asked him, her voice breaking. “You
could have told me—”

He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. “Because I am an ass,” he admitted.

“I thought that I knew what was best for both of us when I should have
trusted you with my secrets regardless of how dangerous they might be.”

“I could have helped you,” she cried softly. “I c-could have—”

“Shh…” he murmured, pressing a finger to her lips. “It was my personal

vendetta against the man who orchestrated the murder of my parents. It had
nothing to do with you, sunbeam, and I did not want to taint your light with
my darkness.”

She raised her gaze to meet his. “How could you say that? How could you
say that about yourself when you were all that I ever wanted—”

William devoured her words with his mouth, kissing her hungrily. Her
words fell like soft rain on the barren land of his soul. Before her, he had
never seen himself as anything but a villain of sorts, bent on revenge and
nothing more. Being with Selina had made him believe he could be
something else. Something more. Something better.

Bloody hell, he wanted to be better because she deserved someone like that.

“I also meant to apologize for taking so long to come back to you,” he told
her. “After my parents died—after Duncan had them killed,” he amended,
“I could not find it within me to ever step foot in Barrington Estate. Our old
butler, Hopkins, looked like he might keel over in shock when he saw me
on the front door.”

He closed his eyes as she cupped his face gently. “You are so brave,
William. To go all through this and keep on living…”

He took one of her hands and pressed several kisses to her knuckles. “I have
you to thank for that, sunbeam. Before you, I thought that the culmination
of my existence would be to avenge my parents’ death. It never occurred to
me to live for anything else.”

He paused and took out something from his pocket. “When I was finally
ready, I had to go back home to retrieve this.”

William held the box he had thought that he would never use in his lifetime
and presented it to Selina. He flicked the top open to reveal a beautiful ring
inside. A large emerald surrounded by small diamonds twinkled from a sea
of midnight velvet.

“Lady Selina Walford,” he spoke slowly, afraid that his voice might break.
“Will you do me the honor of becoming my cherished wife?”

“Oh, William,” she choked. “It is very beautiful. I cannot possibly—”

“It was my mother’s,” he said reverently. “She had shown this to me only a
few times when I was a boy and told me to give it to the lady who would
claim my heart. She would have wanted you to have it.”

“Then, yes!” she laughed, throwing her arms around him. “Yes, yes, yes. I
will marry you!”

He had barely slipped the ring onto her finger when he speared his hands
into her hair as he angled her face up to meet his kiss while driving her back
into the gazebo. His hand clenched her bottom as he held her against him,
his hardness grinding against the softness of her flesh. His other hand
wandered up to her chest and squeezed the full roundness of her breast,
causing her to arch into his touch.

He had gone on for so long without touching her, tasting her, and it seemed
that Selina was just as hungry for him as he was for her.

“William,” she gasped. Her eyes widened in shock. “Maybe we should—”

“Nobody will dare come here for a good long while,” he rasped against her
neck, nipping gently at the soft skin. The fragrance that wafted up from her
very skin threatened to undo what little control he had over himself. “It will
be just us for tonight, sunbeam.”

She laughed hoarsely. “No one else but us?”

He smiled against her skin. “Remember what I told you? That there will
never be another for us?”

“Yes,” she said softly, her hands digging into his broad shoulders. “There
will never be another for me, William. Only you.”

He groaned. “Same thing for me, sunbeam.”

In another night, he might have taken his sweet time with her, drawing out
her pleasure and teaching her how to please him in turn. But not tonight.
Not when he was filled with desperation for her.

He pushed her skirts up to her waist and ruthlessly discarded her

undergarments. He pushed her legs apart with his knee while he cupped her
heat, groaning when he found her wet and ready for him.

“William…” she moaned, her hands digging into his shoulders. “More…”

He laughed hoarsely. “I love it when you say my name like that, sunbeam.”

Selina merely looked him in the eye as her legs wrapped themselves around
him. She bit her lower lip and called out in a more insistent voice,
“William.”

He groaned and pulled down his breeches, drawing out his erection. She
was going to be the death of him—he just knew it.

But he could not have chosen a better way to die.

He sank into her, swallowing her soft cry in a kiss that sought to meld our
souls together. He groaned as her sheath encased him, holding him tight in
the moist heat. He had to stifle his moan for fear that the sound could be
heard all the way to the ballroom.

Selina, however, was rather determined to drive him mad with wanting her.

“William, please,” she moaned, writhing beneath him. “Faster…harder…”

He laughed hoarsely as he began to thrust into her. When he bit lightly at

the spot where her neck met her shoulder, she let out a sharp cry. He could
feel she liked it when she clenched him fiercely.

“Quiet, sunbeam,” he instructed her. “We do not want them to hear us and
come rushing over, hmm?”
She looked up at him with wide eyes and nodded wordlessly.

“Good girl.”

He began to thrust into her faster, harder, just as she had demanded him to
do so. He grabbed the back of the bench for better leverage as he pounded
into her. She was so wet and tight, her soft mewls driving him on until he
was almost delirious with desire.

“Oh God, you feel so good, sunbeam,” he groaned against her cheek. “So
hot and wet…”

Selina had turned her face into his coat, muffling her moans against it as he
slammed over and over into her. She let out a soft cry as she shattered,
holding him deep within her.

His own release came snapping at the heels of hers, and he let out a soft
growl, the force of it so strong that it took him quite some time to recover as
he normally did.

When the spasms finally subsided, he braced his arms against the back of
the bench so that he might not crush her. Selina continued to hold him close
to her, and he sighed, feeling the happiest that he ever had in his entire life.

He smoothed her hair away from her face and grinned roguishly at her. “Is
it so wrong of me to want you again so soon?”

She let out a soft laugh. “Well, seeing as we have been apart for so long,
and you have made so many preparations…” She gestured at the gazebo
around them.

“I cannot help it,” he murmured as he trailed kisses along her jaw. “I hope
you will not push me away when you find that I have become insatiable for
you.”
“How could I?” she smiled at him, her fingers playing with his hair. “When
I am very much the same when it comes to you?”

William smiled as he gazed down at her. “We will share a bedroom at

Barrington Estate and in all our other estates.”

“Our estates?” Selina raised an eyebrow at him.

“Naturally,” he scoffed. “Everything of mine shall be yours.”

“But what if I only want you?” she asked him, trailing a finger down his
chest as she glanced coyly up at him.

He caught her hand and nipped gently at her fingertips before sucking on
them gently. He heard her sigh and saw her eyes go dark with desire once
more.

“Sunbeam, you do not need to ask for things that are already yours.” He
leaned his forehead against hers, looking deeply into her clear emerald eyes.
“I love you so much.”

“I love you, too, William Barrington—even when you are being an

annoying, overbearing prick!”

He laughed and gathered her into his arms. After his parents were
murdered, William had never thought he would ever have cause to laugh so
freely again, nor love as much as he did the young lady in his arms.

Selina had come into his life and dismantled all the walls he had built
around himself, upending all the plans he had for himself. Before her, he
had never dreamed as wondrous a future for himself as the one that she was
willing to share with him. He had given his life to vengeance until she had
shown him another path—one that they might walk together.
She had taken all the darkness, all the sorrow and pain and anger, and filled
it all with light. Her light.

As he kissed her again, her legs wrapping tight around him as she drew him
close, he knew an existence that was even better than anything he could
ever have hoped for.

Selina had not only brought him heaven on earth—she brought him home.

The End?

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 EXTENDED EPILOGUE

Would you like to know how Selina and William’s relationship evolved?
Then enjoy this free complimentary short story featuring the beloved
couple!

Simply TAP HERE to read it now for FREE! or use this link: https://
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OceanofPDF.com
PREVIEW:TEMPTING THE RAKISH
DUKE

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 1

London, England

“A re you certain this is a wise idea?”

“Emily, I do believe you are starting to sound like our oldest sister.” Bridget
abruptly stopped walking and turned to look at her sister.
Emily was used to the tired looks her older sister gave her by now. Bridget
was sweet in nature, softly spoken, and would hardly ever dare speak too
loudly, or say boo to a goose. Emily rather thought Bridget wouldn’t even
dare whisper to a goose, she was so demure in nature. In contrast, Emily
had no such qualms. Yet something Bridget did permit herself was such
exasperated looks.
“Me?” Emily laid an innocent hand on her chest. “Do you mean that I am
sounding increasingly like a watchful mother, inclined to usher you hither
and thither, and warn you when you make the simplest of errors, like a
clucking hen?”
“She is not that bad,” Bridget laughed warmly and threaded a hand through
Emily’s arm, drawing her further into the ball. “Besides, even you must
admit our sister’s attentions have been somewhat divided as of late, now
she has her son and her husband to concern herself with.”
“That she does,” Emily agreed with a slow nod.
“And I know you miss her attentions too.”
“Oh, what a thing to say!” Emily declared in mock horror and threw a
white-gloved hand over her lips. The ball gown she wore contrasted
strongly with her gloves. Whereas the gloves were pristine white, the dress
was a rich, bold blue, quite daring even, for the fashionable pastel colors of
the season. In contrast, Bridget’s gown was a pale pink that suited her
delicate features, small lips and light brown hair rather beautifully. “Do you
mean to suggest I am missing my sister’s mothering ways now I am a little
freer of them?”
Bridget did not need to answer but arched her eyebrows in Emily’s
direction.
“Well, maybe we do both know it is the truth, but pray, do not let Rachel
hear you say that. It will make her day,” Emily said in a rush.
“She and Daniel are not here tonight anyway,” Bridget explained, nodding
her head at the ballroom. “They had… other things to attend to.”
“What other things? Their son?”
“Being happily married, I believe.” Bridget repressed a mischievous smile
and blushed bright red instead. Emily tipped her chin back and laughed
raucously.
“Who would have thought our saintly sister, who was so eager to ever avoid
a scandal from me, had her own, and now throws herself into marriage and
er, the… marriage chamber,” she added in a whisper, earning a dark glare
from Bridget.
“Behave. Come, tonight is about something else entirely.”
“Yes, that is why I began this conversation in the first place, for I wished to
issue a caution. Oomph!” Emily was not permitted to say anymore.
Their father, Edward Lock, the Earl of Pratt, arrived behind them in the
ballroom, having finished his introductions with their hosts for the evening.
He had barreled headlong into them and nearly knocked them both over.
Fortunately, Bridget was always so sure of her composure and standing that
she didn’t waver, even when Emily was in danger of pulling them both
over.
“Now, girls, to business I think,” he said matter-of-factly.
“Business indeed,” Emily muttered wryly. “I am still not certain about this.”
“We discussed this, Emily.” Her father walked around her, revealing the
same rich brown hair tones that could be seen in both Rachel’s and
Bridget’s hair.
There were aspects of his face that Emily thought were a little more like her
own. The sloping nose and high cheekbones were much the same as hers.
Whereas these features aided him to age very well, on Emily, they were
rather fine, not that she thought herself any great beauty. She merely knew
she was at least not the most awful-looking lady of the ton.
“Yes, I remember discussing it,” Emily said tightly, forcing a smile for her
father’s sake and Bridget’s. Both Edward and Bridget looked at one another
with amused smiles. “I do not remember agreeing to the conclusions you
two drew.”
“Do you think it hurts her? To hold such an expression for so long?”
Edward asked mischievously, pretending to whisper to Bridget.
“She would never own it if it did,” Bridget laughed and shook her head.
“Do smile properly, Emily, or as Mother Rachel would say, the wind will
change, and you’ll be stuck that way forever.”
“Fine, then I shall do this instead.” She revealed a harsh frown indeed. “I
am not convinced, Father, that you are ushering Bridget into the best of
marriage betrothals.”
There! I have said my piece.
Yet Emily had plenty more she would gladly add to the discussion. When
Edward had first posited the idea that it was time Bridget married, now that
Rachel had been wedded for a year, everyone had been eager to see a
match, even Bridget in her own timid way. Their brother-in-law, Daniel, had
been interested in the idea too, but issued caution for Bridget’s sake.
“Our brother-in-law never uttered such wise words as when he declared that
your husband should be a man of wisdom, Bridget. Who else would
appreciate you for who you are? Anyone gregarious, or God forbid, foolish!
Well, they would not do for you.”
“And she thinks Rachel is the protective sister,” Edward pointed out to
Bridget, who laughed once more.
“Father, please—”
“I see they are here already.” Edward looked somewhere off through the
ballroom. “He is here now with his mother.”
Emily at once craned her neck, desperate for a view of the man that was to
marry her sister. She’d heard much of him, especially from those in her
friendship group that were fond of gossip and the scandal sheets, but she
had never seen him herself.
“I will be back shortly, girls.” Edward left before Emily could voice any
further complaints. She tried her best to catch a glimpse of the mysterious
man but had no luck. All she could see were the sea of heads, both of ladies
and gentlemen, as they hurried either to the dance floor or to enjoy the vast
displays of food and liquor that had been laid out in crystal glasses and
great towering cake stands, built like towers.
“Can you see him?” Emily whispered.
“No, but I shall see him soon enough.” In contrast, Bridget did not seem too
interested in searching for her betrothed. She looked down instead, hung her
head and adjusted the sleeves of her gloves in her usual self-conscious way.
“How tempted are you to run to the shadows of the room where you usually
like to hide?” Emily asked her, knowing her sister well. Bridget didn’t
answer but offered a knowing smile. “Yes, yes, I know. I know you too
well.”
Sensing her opportunity, Emily pulled on her sister’s arm tighter and led her
to one such dark corner of the room, away from the prying eyes of anyone
new that could be walking into the ballroom.
“Sister, please, I beg you to reconsider this. Marrying this man… oh, there
is so much that could go wrong.” All of the complaints that had come
before fell from her lips again now. Before, they had been brushed under
the carpet, either by her father, Rachel, or even Daniel; at least alone, she
could speak to Bridget and know her words would be heard. “He is a known
rake.”
“Yes, everyone has told me as such,” Bridget said, though there was a
tightness around her lips that suggested she was not completely comfortable
with the idea. “He needs to marry. He has agreed to the match.”
“Yet what of your own happiness?” Emily asked, gesturing wildly. “Believe
me, sister. Rakes are amusing company. Yes indeed, they know how to flirt,
how to make a lady smile, and…” She trailed off as Bridget quirked her
eyebrow. “Do not look at me like that.”
“I fear now I am the one turning into Rachel. I’m wondering exactly how
many dark corners of your own you have crept off into and come across a
rake. If I knew the answer, would you be married already?” Bridget asked,
that smile returning.
“I am not answering that question,” Emily shook her head firmly.
Even from her debut ball, Emily hadn’t seen what all the fuss was about and
was happy to stay completely still like a statue in ballrooms or ignore
interesting men’s company. More than once had she entertained the idea of
a courtship that had not come to pass, and it would be a lie to say she did
not know what a kiss was like. She’d had a couple, and that’s all she would
admit to, though even the memory of the second incident was a little hazy.
I am part to blame for that one.
“The point is that rakes do not make good husbands. The chances of them
being faithful to you are slim indeed. I know you have read the stories about
this gentleman as much as I have. Pray, tell me you realize what situation
you are agreeing to if you go ahead with this match?” Emily waited with
bated breath, desperate to have her sister’s agreement.
“I know what I have agreed to,” Bridget adopted a serious tone and reached
for Emily’s hand, patting it between her own. “Do not make yourself ill
with your concern for me.”
“That’s like telling Rachel not to be worried. As impossible as it is not to
breathe.”
“Yes, I take your point,” Bridget continued tapping her hand and stepped
forward farther still. She was exceedingly pretty, to the point that though
Emily had often been called the beautiful sister, she thought Bridget was
actually the prettiest. She had a sweetness to her face that neither she nor
Rachel had, in her bold if rather unorthodox, good looks. Along with
Bridget’s excessively good heart, her benevolence and her humility, Emily
knew she deserved the best gentleman in the world.
That gentleman, whomever he may be, will certainly be no rake!
“You must not worry about me. I have agreed to the match, as has he. Not
everyone ends up in as loving or as happy a marriage as our sister has.
Believe me, Emily, I am perfectly content.”
“Then I shall do all the worrying for you.”
“I thought you might.”
“I shall,” Emily said again, with emphasis, drawing another laugh from her
sister’s lips.
“Worry for yourself.” Bridget nodded her head across the ballroom. “For
there is one coming your way this minute who we both know will be more
than a little forward when he reaches you.”
Emily didn’t need to hear the name or see the face to know who was
coming, but she looked around on an impulse regardless.
“You remember when we went to see Shakespeare’s Midsummer Night’s
Dream?” Emily asked, wrinkling her nose as she stared at the gentleman
walking toward her. He was over twice her age, with an excessively long
face, and a chin that was more akin to a horse’s snout.
“Of course.”
“Well, the character of Bottom does rather remind me of Lord Gilchrist.
Especially when his head is transformed into that of a donkey.”
Bridget laughed into her hand, in a way that showed she knew she shouldn’t
find such audacious things funny, but she truly did.
“Forgive me whilst I escape, sister,” Emily whispered to her. “I will not risk
another dance with him again. The last time, goodness, if Father had seen
where he reached for me then we would be arranging my marriage right
now.”
“Then run, swiftly, and when you return, I shall have met my husband-to-
be.”
The words gave Emily pause. She hesitated, looking back at her sister, then
tried to contend with Bridget’s insistent tone.
She is content to marry this man, even if I fear it will be a disaster. Oh, my
poor sister. I pray you are the one who is right and that I am wrong.
Emily turned on her heel, and before the overzealous attentions of Lord
Gilchrist could find her, she slipped out of the ballroom side door and into a
darkened corridor.

“Now, the time is here, my darling. I hope you are ready.”

“As ready as you are when I invite you to play a game of shuttlecock,”
Jacob said tightly. His sarcasm didn’t get him far. His mother, Catarina,
turned to the nearest drinks table and poured a rather excessively large glass
of claret.
“Drink that. They call it Dutch courage and it might give you some right
now.”
“Thanks.” Jacob took a hearty gulp of the claret.
Why did I agree to this again?
Despite the complaint, he remembered why he had said yes to marrying a
woman he had never met in his life. It had nothing to do with the lady or
her own situation, and everything to do with his own.
It must be done, even if I am dreading this moment.
“You make it sound as if I am about to introduce you to Medusa herself,”
Catarina glared at him.
She was tall, just like him, though he was taller still. Her blue eyes were a
mirror image of his own, but their hair was shockingly different and
captured attention for different reasons. Where Catrina had dark auburn
hair, that was still not graying despite her advanced years, Jacob bore rich
dark brown hair. It had a habit of always falling perfectly, without him
having to try very much, tangling around his ears a little longer than many
gentlemen thought was fashionable.
“Medusa? God, I hope not.” Jacob shook his head and looked down at the
claret glass in his hand, startled to find it was empty in his palm. “Did I
drink all of this already?”
“Yes,” Catarina took the glass sharply out of his grasp. “You have the red
wine mustache to prove it.”
He chuckled and lifted a handkerchief from the pocket of his tailcoat,
dabbing his bare upper lip to get rid of the wine smudge.
“You remember why you agreed to this, do you not?” Catarina asked, not
looking at him, but returning the glass to the table. She did something he
had so often seen her do, ever since he was a child. She readjusted the
glasses on the table, until they were all perfectly aligned. One glass seemed
more difficult than the others to place, and she moved it repeatedly until it
was perfectly placed, with no wrinkles in the tablecloth around it.
“I remember.” His voice grew deep and somber. Quite frankly, he would
have agreed to anything if it meant assuaging his mother’s nervous habits
after all this time, but he doubted even marriage would help at this point.
When she picked up another empty glass and laid it in a perfect line
alongside the others, he laid a hand over the rims of the glasses, capturing
her attention. The shallow wrinkles in the skin of her cheeks suddenly
furrowed deeper.
“I know. I’m doing it again.” She released the glasses completely.
“It does not matter.” Jacob tried to brush it off.
The only other person he’d spoken to in this world about his mother’s fears
for him and her nervous habits was his good friend, Seth Miller, the
Marquess of Ramsbury. Seth had pointed out long ago that the more Jacob
drew attention to such things, the more it made his mother panic about what
she did. Best to downplay it and make it seem like no great matter at all.
Nevertheless, Jacob shifted the glasses away from her, so she could not do it
again.
“Now. You should come and meet her. It’s time.” His mother turned to face
him, clasping her hands together, her excitement palpable.
“I need five minutes first.” The words escaped his lips before he really
knew what he was doing. “Just to gather myself, a breath of fresh air, you
know.”
“I rather hoped the claret would have made you courageous enough. I pray
you are not planning to make a run for it the moment you are outside.” Her
beady eyes narrowed on him, that glacial blue rather shocking, like glass
marbles.
“I promise to return. I just need a minute.” He laid a hand on his mother’s
shoulder in reassurance. “There is nothing to worry about. I shall be back
soon.”
His mother waited, said nothing, and offered one of those tight-lipped looks
that told him her mind was full of all her nervous worries again, then she
magically shifted them and offered a small nod with a smile.
“Yes, of course. I shall see you in a minute or two then.”
Jacob turned and left his mother’s side, hurrying across the insanely busy
room as he aimed for a door. As he went, faces turned toward him. Many
ladies’ eyes shifted to admire him. He’d seen those looks before and knew
what they meant. Either they hoped to be the one woman that could saddle
him into marriage, or they knew his reputation and dreamed of one night
only with him.
I cannot think of such things tonight. From now on… I will be a married
man.
Uncertain what to think or feel about the situation, he hurried rapidly
through a door, moving so quickly that he barely noticed he was suddenly
in a completely pitch-black corridor, with no candles or footmen. Evidently,
it was a door that guests were not supposed to use.
He strode through it, sighing heavily and glad to have escaped his mother
for a few minutes, but in the darkness, he could not see where he was going.
There was merely a sliver of moonlight at the end of the corridor, filtering
through a window. The soft gray light fell on the bottom of the stairs and
what he perceived to be some sort of marble statue.
Then he tripped on something and fell straight into the statue.
“Oh!”
Wait… that is no statue.

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 CHAPTER 2

“W hat the…” Jacob trailed off, freezing completely as he tried to

make sense of his bearings.
“I thought you would have shifted your hands by now,” a rather husky
voice said.
Oh, that voice.
It was sultry. The kind of voice that he expected to hear from some actress
on the stage. One of those actresses that took the part of the ‘other woman’
in the play, the one who was tempting the hero to look the other way. Yes
indeed, he could imagine walking across a stage to that voice and being
ensnared by her.
“What exactly am I—oh!” He lifted his hands, realizing that in his attempt
to stay standing as he had walked into this mysterious lady, one of his hands
had found her hip and the other her shoulder. Well, he said shoulder, but
that was just what his fingertips caressed. The bottom part of his palm could
distinctly feel the curve of a breast. “My apologies.”
He removed his hands and stood up straight, only to find that he was
standing on the hem of her gown. As he reached for the bottom rail of the
nearby staircase, its outline barely visible, his boot hooked her hem.
dragging her with him.
“What the devil!” she cried then fell straight into him, her hands finding the
center of his chest.
“It is a good job I am strong, ma’am,” he said, suddenly aware in the
darkness how close the lady was. “An ounce weaker and you could have
knocked us both over until we were rolling around on this floor together.”
He may not have been able to see her face in this darkness, but he could just
decipher the top curve of her head and some curls in the faint light from the
window. Her scent lingered too. It was rather exotic, unlike the light floral
scents that so many ladies in the ballroom preferred; something infinitely
headier, and there was a touch of spice to it too.
“Ha!” she laughed deeply. “Does such a statement induce many ladies to
fall into your arms and go ahead with such rolling around on the floor?”
She continued to laugh at him.
He raised his hands and softly tapped her fingers that still rested on his
chest.
“Perhaps I should just point out that you are the one who launched yourself
into my arms.”
“Yes, completely intentionally,” she said wryly and pushed harshly against
his chest, stumbling back from him. “What are you doing out here?”
“I could ask you such a thing. The ball is back through there.” He pointed in
the direction he had come from, though with such little light, he realized
that she probably couldn’t see his gesture.
“I asked first.”
“Hmm, is this a court of law? I was not aware I had to play fairly,” he said
teasingly. There was something altogether exciting about this whole
situation. It wasn’t just the fact that they had stumbled into one another, and
had no idea what one another looked like, but there was something witty in
her turn of phrase, that voice, that scent… She was attractive indeed, even
without seeing her face.
“You prefer to play foul, stranger?” she asked, rather tartly with a challenge
in her voice. From the way her body shifted, and the outline he could see,
he thought she might have leaned back on the wall opposite him.
“Not foul, just… with cleverness.”
“Clever? Oh, this is a rather vain meeting, is it not?” she said, that witty
tone still present. “We have known each other for what must amount to less
than two minutes, and you have already declared that I should wish to fall
into your arms and that you are deeply clever indeed. Any other boasts I
should know of?”
What is happening here?
He couldn’t resist. Part of him knew he should be returning to the ball,
meeting the woman he was supposed to be marrying, yet he stayed here.
Rather than heading to the ball, he took a step toward the lady instead. She
didn’t move, despite the fact she must have heard the sound.
“I know that it is probably unwise for a lady to be alone with me in such a
dark corridor. My reputation, ma’am… it is no fine thing when it comes to
dancing with just one lady in a night.” The flirtation was obvious as he bent
his head a little down toward her, wanting to be nearer that scent.
“Now that is a boast indeed. You are supposing more than one lady wishes
to dance with you in a night?” she said, her voice rather breathy, making
that husky sound deeper. When she angled her head to the side, as if
readying herself for a kiss, he mirrored the image the other way, placing his
hands on the wall either side of her.
What has come over me?
He might have been wayward, a rake, a cad, yes! Yet every lady he had
been with, even kissed, he’d looked in the eye. They knew exactly who he
was. This lady did not. It was as if they were drawn together by something
beyond the promises of his reputation and how he could fill a lady’s night
with pleasure.
This is another draw entirely.
“I wasn’t exactly referring to dancing when I said ‘dancing’.” His voice
grew deeper still.
“Then what were you talking of?” She was clearly enjoying challenging
him, for he could hear the humor in her voice. She was tempting him to say
the actual words, testing him to see if he would.
“You are bold, my lady. Very bold indeed.” He angled his head further to
the side, coming so near that his cheek practically brushed hers.
“Hmm, do you know what a hypocrite is, stranger?”
He laughed deeply at her words and pulled an inch back from her.
“Forgive me,” he whispered, his hands still firmly on the wall though he
kept a little distance between them now. “I would blame the claret for
drawing me toward you, but I could not put my hand on my heart and say
that I did.”
“Not your eagerness to have another lady to… dance with tonight then?” At
her words, they laughed together, a soft sound.
“Tempting indeed, ma’am,” he whispered. When he shifted his hands on the
wall this time, he felt the brush of where she had planted her arms to the
wall too. He caught the hint of the fine long gloves that reached her elbows.
It was the evidence that he needed, though he could not see her face and
dress clearly—she was a lady of the ton. “Yet I have a rule.”
“What is that? Flirting with ladies in dark corridors is allowed, but anything
more is off limits?” she asked, that flirtatious huskiness growing. Once
more, she tilted her head to the side. He caught it in the way the soft gray
light fell through the window, enough to see the movement of her hair at the
side of her head.
“I do not get involved with ladies of the ton.”
“Oh? How interesting.” She flattened her head to the wall again. “Well, in a
dark corridor, I could be anyone, could I not? Just as easily as you may well
be a footman or a cook right now, and I would not know.”
“That is true.” There was something exhilarating about that idea to Jacob.
This stranger, she was drawn to him, flirting with him, when she didn’t
even know what his position was. He didn’t doubt most ladies went to his
bed because they thought they could get something else from him— money.
Yet this lady was looking for a momentary thrill. Was he one to deny her
that?
“What if we just said that for tonight, in this corridor, I’m no lady of the
ton,” she whispered, tilting her head up a little toward his.
“Tempting indeed,” he said, and moved his lips toward hers.
The brush of their lips together was soft at first, merely a test of boundaries.
When her lips molded to his, showing she knew what to do in a kiss, he
pushed the boundary further. They moved their lips together,
experimenting, then when his hands slid along the wall, his wrists coming
up to brush the curve of her waist, she arched toward him.
That’s when Jacob lost his self-control. In that moment, he didn’t care about
restraint, or why he was at the ball tonight. All he thought about was this
momentary escape with this stranger.
I’m damn well going to enjoy it whilst I can. It will be fleeting!
He deepened the kiss, playfully biting her bottom lip to get a response from
her. She parted her lips, giving him entry, and as he delved beyond, tangling
their tongues in a tease, her hands reached up. She splayed her fingers
across his chest. The intimacy of that touch was enough to drive him mad,
even without that kiss.
Then there was a thud in the distant part of the corridor. Jacob pulled back
from the mysterious lady, his hands still on the wall as he looked down the
corridor. Someone else had escaped the ballroom, and they had a candle
with them—they were in danger of lighting the pair of them, locked in their
scandalous kiss.
“Do not move,” Jacob whispered to the lady, turning his head back toward
her. The candle was so distant, it cast no light upon them. He strained in
that light, desperate to see something of the lady that had kissed him with
such skill and passion, but he saw nothing. He simply grew aware of the
way her hands shifted on his chest, moving down a little to his stomach and
then his hips. “That is moving, ma’am,” he whispered again in her ear.
“Oops.” Though her playful tone showed she knew exactly what she had
done to tease him.
Holding his whole body still, Jacob stared down the corridor, fearful of
discovery. If he turned and fled now, it would simply draw attention to the
pair of them. His best chance was to stay very still and let the intruder pass
away without ever discovering they were there.
The candle seemed to bob about in the room, its bearer uncertain where to
go, then the candle drifted the other way down the hallway, slowly
disappearing. The moment it was gone, the lady sighed heavily in relief and
released Jacob, flattening herself against the wall once again.
“A near miss,” Jacob remarked, his hands still on the wall.
“And a reminder how risky meetings with gentlemen such as yourself are.”
Her tone was still playful as she slipped under one of his arms, escaping
him with ease. “If you would excuse me, stranger.”
“Wait… that’s it?” Jacob turned, leaning on the wall. “One kiss like that,
and no more?”
“Did you expect any more?” She laughed from the darkness. “I have not
come here to dance with you, stranger. Oh no, the kiss was enough to
tantalize the senses, but there will be no more. Goodnight.” She turned in
the darkness. He caught sight of the silver light from the window falling on
the hem of her gown. Was that a shade of blue? He could not be certain.
Then she was gone, with the door to the ballroom closing softly behind her.
After she left, Jacob was filled with a rush of excitement at what he had
done. He chuckled, leaned back on the wall and thrust a hand into his hair.
“I should not have done that,” he murmured aloud.
His head argued against what he had done. Every rational thought knew that
it was not only risky, and scandalous, and that they could have found
themselves hastily betrothed if they’d been discovered, but his heart also
knew it was a betrayal.
Maybe I am not capable of devotion to a lady, but in that ballroom, a young
lady is waiting for me. And what have I done whilst she waits for me? I
have kissed another…
“Ah, no wonder my mother despairs of me.” He thrust a hand into his hair
one last time, his nervous habits returning, then he breathed deeply and
pushed himself off the wall. He had to make sure the thrill the stranger had
given him had well and truly passed, or he risked returning to that ball with
his evident arousal straining at his breeches.
As he stepped back into the ballroom, despite every good thought and
intention to return to his mother’s side, his eyes involuntarily worked
against him. He searched for another instead. He hunted out every blue-
hemmed gown he could see, and every lady with curls that escaped their
updos. Unfortunately, that meant a lot of ladies in the room! Yet had that
lady’s gown not been bolder in color? Something beyond the usual pastel
shades.
He couldn’t detect that exotic scent again, not on any of the ladies that
walked by him now.
“Jacob! There you are.” Catarina’s hand launched itself at his arm and
gripped hard.
“Ow, Mother. Careful. Are you trying to take my arm off?” he said jokingly,
trying to ease the tension he saw at once in her face. With her other hand,
she was already straightening things, only this time, it was him. She
adjusted the lapels of his jacket, the position of his cravat, and the creases in
his waistcoat. “Mother, I’m a man, not a boy.”
“Sorry,” she murmured, turning her attention to the creases in her own
gown. “Where did you go? Lord Pratt came to introduce his daughter and
you were nowhere to be found. You were longer than I expected, Jacob. It is
embarrassing indeed!”
“I’m sorry. You are right, I should not have taken so long.” He laid a hand
on his mother’s shoulder again, knowing it comforted her. She breathed
deeply and nodded.
Jacob had a distinct memory of being a child when he had seen his father do
such a thing, laying a hand on his mother’s shoulder to comfort her. He
supposed that was why he did it. He was so like his father, in many
respects, and who knew just how far that similarity went.
“You must come and meet her now.” Catarina took his arm. “There must be
no further delay.”
“Yes, Mother. You are right. Let’s get this over and done with.” He added
the latter sentence to himself in a deeper tone.
I have to marry; I know I do. I can’t live forever on stolen kisses and
excitement with ladies in dark corridors. I promised my mother I would
produce children. I must keep to that vow.
They crossed the room together and came upon Lord Pratt, a man who
Jacob had met several times over the previous months.
“Lord Pratt.” Jacob bowed deeply in greeting. The kindly gentleman turned
at once and bowed too.
“Your Grace, it is so good to see you again.” He smiled warmly. “We
thought we had lost you for the night.”
“Yes, my son has a habit of scampering off,” Catarina said tightly.
“An old habit of mine to explore, forgive me,” Jacob said with ease. Lord
Pratt didn’t seem to mind. If anything, he smiled a little more.
“Allow me to introduce my daughter to you at last, Your Grace. Bridget?”
he called, turning to look around the other end of the drinks table. A young
lady removed herself from a group of other ladies and walked forward,
moving to her father’s side quickly. “Bridget, permit me to introduce His
Grace, Jacob Browning, the Duke of Thorne to you.”
“How do you do, Your Grace?” Her voice was light and melodic as she
curtsied to him.
At once, Jacob saw the fair face. She was excessively pretty, and demure
too from the way she barely raised her eyes at him. The dark curls that
framed her face were done expertly and her full lips pressed together rather
quickly. It was easy to see she was a nervous soul, but she knew her duty,
and stood tall.
She is a good sort of woman. That is what I wanted, was it not? A lady to
wed and produce children. I was not looking for anything more.
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Lady Bridget.” Jacob bowed to her and took
her hand, raising it to his lips to kiss it. So often when he offered such a
kiss, he saw a blush tinging the lady’s cheeks or a flicker of her eyes that
danced across him, but Lady Bridget was more reserved than that. There
was no blush, no dancing of the eyes; in fact, he’d almost go as far to
suggest it was possible that she was unaffected by him at all, and not at all
attracted.
She is hardly the lady from the corridor…
Abruptly, he was transported back there, to that feeling in the corridor, the
excitement, the heat, the mischief, and oh, how he longed to see that lady
again, but he knew it was not to be.
“And you.” Lady Bridget retrieved her hand and offered a polite smile.
“I am so glad we have had this meeting at last,” Catarina said, before Jacob
could think of a word to say to the demure lady. “A marriage! Oh, such a
thing will make me very happy indeed.”
“All of us, Your Grace, will be happy, I assure you,” Lord Pratt said with
ease while offering his arm to Catarina. “Shall we find something to drink
and let the betrothed couple get to know one another?”
“Yes, of course.” They walked off in a not-so-subtle way. Catarina glanced
back with enough harshness in her eyes to let Jacob know he had better be
on his best behavior.
He laughed and turned to Lady Bridget, raising his eyebrows.
“An interesting meeting, eh, Lady Bridget?”
“Yes, I suppose so.” She looked away. There was no humor, no connection,
nothing of the kind.
I am here to do my duty, not to run away with ladies in dark corridors. I
must marry Lady Bridget as I agreed to. Nothing else matters now.

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 CHAPTER 3

T he baby squealed and screamed in Emily’s arms, refusing to settle.

He wriggled madly, so much so that Emily struggled, uncertain
how to hold her little nephew.
“Do you realize how bad you are making us look, little Joey?” she
whispered to the boy, as if he would understand her. “Rachel will take you
out of my arms within seconds if you continue to cry.”
As if in response, the baby cried harder.
Emily’s stomach knotted tightly at the red face of her nephew. More than
anything she wanted to be a good aunt to Joey. They all loved him so much,
the newest bundle of joy in their lives, but Emily had to admit she had little
to no experience with children and did not even know how to hold her
nephew. She usually settled herself with buying him good gifts.
Chewing on her lip, she looked around the parlor, searching across the
space to see her sisters sitting together by a low-lying dumbwaiter table,
carved out of mahogany wood. They’d been pouring tea and enjoying fresh
bread and butter, but now both looked up and winced as Joey cried harder.
“Did you drop him or something?” Rachel asked with a heavy laugh.
“No!” Emily said hurriedly. “I just don’t know how to…” She shifted her
nephew once more, trying to cradle him better in her arms, then he wailed
louder. “Oh, this is hopeless. Maybe I am just no good with children.”
“Don’t be silly.” Rachel stood and crossed the room. With her tall figure
and bold features, she commanded attention in many rooms, not that she
was aware of it.
More than once over the years, Emily had seen Rachel’s modesty matched
only by her motherly nature. She was always mothering anyone she could
get her hands on, even their own father. It was a good job she had ended up
married to Daniel, for the two were a perfect match with her motherly
nature and his protective ways.
“When it is your own child someday, you’ll be a natural, I’m sure,” Rachel
said sweetly and took Joey out of her arms. Emily sighed heavily and blew
a lock of her blonde hair out of her eyes.
“My child!?” she spluttered, realizing what Rachel had said. “I’m not the
one getting married.” She glanced across the room to where Bridget calmly
sipped her tea, as if the conversation did not affect her at all.
So much happened at that ball last night…
Emily longed to ask about Bridget’s meeting with the Duke of Thorne, but
so far, her mind had been entirely taken up with another thought.
Who was that gentleman in the darkness?
When she had first taken refuge in that corridor, she had not thought for a
second that someone would find her there, let alone for them to walk
straight into her and end up entangled with her. He was plainly a cad. She
could acknowledge that openly from the skill with which he flirted with her,
but despite it all, she had been drawn to him.
There was something different about the gentleman in the darkness. There
was a rush of heat and excitement, for they had both known what they were
doing was scandalous when they had kissed, but she had taken the risk
regardless…
“Here, try holding him like this.” Rachel rearranged Joey and he stopped
crying, then she returned the baby to Emily’s arms. Emily stiffened, fearful
of dropping her nephew or making him cry again. This time, the boy lay
peacefully in the crook of her arm, swaddled in various silks and linens. He
didn’t cry, but blinked up at her, then closed his eyes and drifted off to
sleep. “See? You just need a little guidance. That is all.”
“I am not the one who needs guidance.” Yet Emily smiled all the same,
thrilled at the feeling of carrying the boy safely. She crossed the room, as
delicately as she could, with Rachel following protectively behind her.
Sitting down in a chair opposite Bridget, she placed the boy in her lap,
continuing to support his head.
“You think I am the one who needs guidance, do you not?” Bridget asked,
peering over the rim of the cup.
“You have not said a word about meeting your betrothed yet.” Emily rolled
her eyes. “You are not singing his praises. Last time I checked, that is no
good thing.”
“Emily is right.” Rachel sat down on a rococo settee beside Bridget.
“Come, tell us all. What was he like?”
“He was… different.” Bridget scrunched her nose, hardly looking thrilled at
the idea. “Yes, he was certainly charming.”
“Rakes generally are,” Emily muttered darkly. “They do not make good
husbands though.”
Rachel looked sharply at her.
“You do not know that…”
“Do I not?” Emily teased her.
“Don’t ask her about her experience,” Bridget said hurriedly. “It will
certainly displease you; I am sure.”
Emily smiled proudly at Rachel, seeing the same worried look she had so
often seen in her sister’s features. She had no intention of revealing to
Rachel or Bridget what had passed in that dark corridor the night before. It
was a moment’s madness and fleeting excitement. It would not be returned
to or built upon.
It will be my secret memory to keep.
“Tell us about the Duke.” Emily shifted her nephew, adjusting the
swaddling around him, then turned her focus on her sister. “What was your
meeting like?”
“It was perfectly polite and amicable,” Bridget said hurriedly as if she was
reeling off a shopping list rather than describing a gentleman. “He was tall
and had a fair face. I noticed many ladies staring at him. He dresses well
and is clearly conscious of his position as a duke, yet he was able to make
conversation with ease too.”
“She does not smile,” Rachel said, addressing Emily alone.
“Neither does she blush,” Emily noted. “Bridget, did you even admire this
gentleman you are to marry?”
Bridget did not answer at first. She sipped her tea then returned the teacup
to its saucer on the table between them, the sound chinking quietly in the
air.
“No.”
“Well, that’s settled then,” Emily said pointedly. “How are you supposed to
marry a man you do not admire?”
“Sister, take care,” Rachel said, her voice somber. “You have seen as well
as the rest of us that choice in marriage is not something we always have.”
“Yes, I had front-row seats to your own betrothal, thank you,” Emily
whispered with a smile, showing she was teasing her sister. Rachel
narrowed her eyes, nevertheless. “At least you got something wonderful out
of it.” Emily bent down and kissed her nephew’s forehead. He wriggled in
his sleep, then fell still again.
“I got two wonderful things,” Rachel said hurriedly. “Joey, and Daniel.”
She smiled broadly. At once, Emily saw the transformation in her sister’s
expression. There was a delight and happiness that always came with
saying her husband’s name these days.
“Yes, yes, I know,” Emily added tiredly. “Forgive me if I do not sit around
to hear you perform an ode on how wonderful your husband is.” She stood
up with her nephew and walked up and down, rocking him gently to sleep.
“All I was trying to say is that love or admiration does not necessarily come
before marriage, but can come after,” Rachel explained. “I would be a fool,
Bridget, to tell you that you should wait for love when evidently, I did not.
Yet I am not unhappy with the choices I made.”
“I know.” Bridget laid a hand over Rachel’s and the two smiled together.
Emily stood at some distance from the room, watching her sisters together.
Occasionally, she felt as if Bridget and Rachel had a connection that she did
not. She had always put it down to when she was a child, being the
youngest of the three of them. She supposed too that was sometimes why
she had acted out and been so rebellious, for it certainly got her attention.
These days, she just enjoyed making mischief for its own sake, without
getting any attention for it.
Like that kiss last night.
She longed to know what the mysterious gentleman had looked like, but she
supposed now she would never know. As time went on, she would forget
the tone of his voice and the scent he wore. The memory would fade.
“Maybe I just need to be patient,” Bridget said as she shrugged. “If I take
the time to know the gentleman a little more, then perhaps I can feel some
admiration for his handsome face or his charming ways.” As she spoke, she
wrinkled her nose again, her expression defying her words.
“She’s convincing, is she not?” Rachel called to Emily who laughed
warmly.
“As convincing as the moon is out right now.” She nodded her head out of
the window at the bright sunlight, for the moon was not out yet. Her
wryness earned her a dark glare from Bridget.
“I cannot expect love at first sight,” Bridget explained in a rush. “I have
never believed in such a thing, and my mind will not be changed on the
matter now.”
“Then you are being wise indeed.” Rachel smiled warmly, clearly proud of
her, and reached to top up their tea.
“I just do not see why you should be betrothed to a man you feel nothing
for, and who is likely not to feel anything for you either,” Emily said as she
returned to sit with her sisters.
“You do not know he feels nothing for her, Em,” Rachel warned in a low
tone.
“Oh? Am I the only one who has taken note of the fact that his name has
been spread across the scandal sheets regularly? Is he even capable of
devoting himself to one woman?” Emily’s tartness made Bridget wriggle in
her seat, growing increasingly uncomfortable.
“Em,” Rachel’s tone grew harsher as she nodded at Bridget.
“I am not disparaging Bridget, not in any way,” Emily said as hurriedly as
she could. “You misunderstand me if you think that is what I am doing. I
simply want Bridget to marry someone worthy of her, and I am not
convinced the Duke of Thorne is that gentleman.”
“Time will tell, I suppose,” Bridget murmured, her spine slumping a little.
“Just promise me that if you decide you are strongly against him then you
will speak to our father about it. Better yet, tell me to speak to him. I will
happily make my feelings known,” Emily said as she adjusted her nephew
in her lap, for he wriggled, perhaps dreaming in his sleep.
“I don’t doubt you would make your feelings known, without hesitation or
guile.” Rachel’s tone deepened, and they shared a challenging glare across
the table, before Emily cracked and smiled at her sister.
She loved Rachel deeply, but they were not sisters who always saw eye to
eye.
“Where did you run off to last night anyway?” Bridget asked and reached
for her teacup again. “After you escaped Lord Gilchrist, I did not see you
for some time.”
“Escaping Lord Gilchrist takes art indeed,” Emily said with mock pride. “I
was practically dancing around the ballroom and hiding in every shadow I
could find to avoid him.”
And in dark corridors…
“Look at that smirk.” Rachel was the first one to see it. She nodded her
head at Emily then abruptly put down her teacup.
“What?” Emily asked, attempting an innocent tone.
“Your acting skills are not as fine as you think.” Rachel stood and rounded
the table, collecting her son out of Emily’s hands. “You were up to no good,
I know it.”
“I was not.” Emily still refused to give in, but when both sisters glared at
her, she cracked, but only a little. “Oh, so I have a secret, leave it with me.”
She laughed, the mischief taking over. “I did nothing wrong, believe me.”
“I don’t. That is the problem,” Rachel said, returning to her seat with her
son.
“Let us talk of something else,” Bridget declared. “How about the dinner
party tomorrow night? The Duke of Thorne and his mother are to come.”

“Here you are, Your Grace.” The butler presented Jacob with a sheet of
paper as he hovered by the entrance to the carriage, awaiting his mother so
they could leave.
“Thank you, Payton.” Jacob smiled at the butler and took the paper, opening
it and holding it up a little, so he could read the names on the list in the
moonlight.
Who could she be?
Despite his endeavors to be good, to hold true to his betrothal to Lady
Bridget, he had not been able to get the mysterious lady out of his mind
from that dark corridor. One thing he knew for certain was that she was a
lady of the ton, for she had worn fine gloves and a gown. She had been
invited to that event.
Payton had expertly retrieved a list of the guests for Jacob, and he looked
over it now, hoping somehow that a name would leap up at him off the list
and reveal itself as belonging to the lady. He wasn’t even certain why he
thought this would work. They hadn’t discussed names.
“Right, I am ready.” Catarina appeared in the doorway to the house.
Fumbling, Jacob thrust the guest list into the pocket of his tailcoat, before
his mother could see it and ask what it was. Despite her statement, Catarina
stood in the doorway of the house, fidgeting. She rearranged her pelisse
three times, then even reached to Payton beside her and adjusted the
handkerchief in his top pocket. Payton smiled kindly, clearly used to her
ways after so many years.
“Mother…” Jacob’s tone deepened. She stiffened, clearly noting what she
was doing, then hurried to his side at the carriage. “Payton does not need
organizing the way you do a table full of crystalware.”
“I cannot help it.” She took his offered hand and stepped into the carriage.
Jacob followed her then tapped the wall of the coach, showing they were
ready to set off. As they traveled down the driveway, tipping side to side in
the potholes, he stared at his mother. The lantern that was fastened above
them cast a burnt orange light about her. “I have always been the same. It is
just who I am.”
He didn’t argue with her, though he knew it was not the truth. When he was
very young, he had no memories at all of her excessively tidying things
until everything was at a perpendicular or parallel angle to one another.
He’d even ventured to ask Payton and the housekeeper, Mrs. Wright, if she
had been this way before his father had died.
The answer had been a resounding no: this behavior developed after the late
Duke’s death.
Chewing the side of his mouth so that he did not argue with his mother, he
looked out of the window, thinking of his father. The candlelight cast a
ghost of his reflection on the glass beside him, and for a brief second, he
was convinced his father sat there beside him, but he wasn’t. It was only
Jacob’s reflection.
When they reached the Earl of Pratt’s house, Jacob stepped down first and
offered a hand to assist his mother. Despite her hurried steps toward the
door of the house, he did not race to the door.
Remember why I am doing this, remember…
He thought back to the vow he had made to his mother long ago. There
would be a marriage and children, yes, and now he was thirty, he had no
choice but to make it happen. That was the deal. He could not be a rake
forever.
“Come, Jacob. Your betrothed will be waiting for you.” She beckoned him
from the doorway.
He nodded and followed, bounding up the steps though he could feel no
excitement about seeing Lady Bridget again. She had been nice, certainly,
polite and everything a lady should be. Yet his admiration for her went no
further.
I hoped at least my bride and I could enjoy the responsibilities of the
marriage chamber.
“Ah, you’re here.” The warm voice of the Earl of Pratt greeted them as the
door was flung open and rich warm candlelight fell out. Catarina was
ushered inside first, with Jacob following behind.
In the grand hallway stood the Earl of Pratt and his daughter, Lady Bridget.
They both stepped forward and bowed and curtsied in turn. Feeling the
glare of his mother’s eyes burrowing into him, Jacob swiftly took Lady
Bridget’s hand in greeting, trying to find some warmth in her eyes or
expression, but she looked away and retrieved her hand fast.
It is definite. She feels nothing for me yet.
“I am so glad you could come tonight,” the Earl of Pratt said, launching into
a great speech about the dinner that had been prepared for them. Catarina
took part, oohing and aahing at the appropriate moments and saying how
delicious it all sounded.
“Goodness, Father, are you still singing the praises of all our food tonight?”
Another voice joined them.
Wait, that voice.
Jacob could have been back in that corridor. It was the same sultry and
husky tone that he’d heard before. Behind Lady Bridget, another lady
entered the hallway, evidently her younger sister.
“We’ll be worshipping the dinner rather than eating it at this rate,” the lady
said, prompting Lady Bridget to smile fully for the first time in Jacob’s
presence yet.
His eyes shot toward the lady, for he knew that tone at once and would not
mistake it.
It’s her. It is the lady I kissed in that corridor!

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 A L S O B Y S A LLY V I X E N

Thank you for reading My Heartless Duke!

I hope you loved the story as much as I loved writing it! If you did, may I ask you to please write a
review HERE? It would mean the world to me. Your feedback means the world to me!

Some other stories of mine:

Tempting the Rakish Duke
The Cruel Duke
Tempting the Broken Duke
A Spinster to Tame the Duke
The Duke and His Bluestocking
A Duke’s Promise

Your support means the world to me!

Thank you for being my reason to smile today,
Sally Vixen

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 ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Born and raised in Pennsylvania by a mother of British ancestry, it is no wonder Sally developed a
love for British culture. An avid reader since she was a child, it wasn’t long until she stumbled onto
the Regency classics, and the rest is history.
A couple of years and a Creative Writing degree later, Sally has truly found her calling. She is rarely
found without a book in her hand, but when she isn’t reading or writing, she likes taking walks in
nature, traveling and spending quality time with her very own happily-ever-after, her wonderful
family of four.
So, allow Sally to take you on a majestic trip, full of passion, boundless romance and glamorous
balls, and let your heart be stolen by the dashing Lords and seductive Ladies of an era where
fairytales came to life...

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