Dusk With a Dangerous Duke Read Online Free Page B

thought you were waiting for the Duke of Huntsley?”
    Her eyes and nostrils flared at the notion. “I have already waited nineteen years for the man. I refuse to sit here another day. The Duke of Huntsley can go to perdition. I am going to London.”
    “But London. Why ever for?”
    She recalled her uncle’s confidence in securing her inheritance, which in turn would guarantee her compliance. “Why else would I travel to London? I intend to secure a husband.”
    And she knew just the lady who could assist her on her quest.

 
    Chapter Three
    Two weeks later, London
    Grace refused to show up at Lady Netherley’s door empty-handed, so she had ordered the coachman to halt at the first flower stall or cart that he came across. Her request had extended her drive through town, but she did not mind. The weather was temperate, and she suspected the marchioness would appreciate the thoughtful gesture.
    Grace also hoped the flowers would soften Lady Netherley’s disposition toward her since she was preparing to request a great boon from the lady.
    The coachman found a stall not far from Covent Garden. While Grace longed to explore the market, this was not the day to do so. Another day, she promised herself. Rosemary would want to join her on such an outing as well.
    “I could fetch yer posies if the sun is too strong for ye,” the gruff coachman offered when he opened the door.
    “I thank you for your offer, but I have my parasol,” Grace said, though she made no attempt to open it. Instead she accepted the coachman’s hand as she stepped down from the coach. “I shall not be long.”
    Since she did not want to be late for her appointment, Grace came to a decision quickly, choosing lilacs and ferns for Lady Netherley. The delicate blooms rarely lasted beyond a day, but the fragrance always managed to cheer her.
    “How much do I owe you?” she asked the girl who was wrapping her flowers in paper to keep them fresh.
    “I have it,” a deep masculine voice said beside her.
    “A generous offer but unnecessary,” Grace said, glancing over her shoulder but what she glimpsed froze her in place. Her startled gaze locked with warm, light brown eyes that reminded her of colored glass illuminated by the morning sun. There was humor and intelligence, and something she could not quite define in those beautiful depths as he leaned forward to pay the owner of the flower stall.
    “Oh … I,” she said, feeling flustered by his closeness so she focused on his dark coat sleeve as money exchanged hands.
    Large hands, encased in expensive gloves. The fabric and precise fitting of his coat sleeves revealed wealth and a skilled tailor. Most impressive were the strong, muscular arms that filled out the fabric. Her mouth went dry at the thought of him turning, and those strong limbs wrapping around her, enfolding her in an embrace.
    Her cheeks felt scalded by the unbidden desire to step closer and take scandalous liberties.
    “A good afternoon to you both,” the girl said, slipping the coins into a pocket as she placed the wrapped flowers into Grace’s hands. With a distracted expression on her face, the girl turned to greet another patron, leaving Grace alone with the gentleman.
    “Permit me to pay you for the flowers,” Grace said, uncomfortable with her unexpected reaction to this man. Nor did she require his charity. Mr. Porter had told her often enough that she was an heiress. She could have bought the entire flower stall, if that had been her desire.
    Desire. A troublesome word when this man was in her presence.
    “I hate to deny a lady, but alas, I must refuse,” was the man’s cheerful reply.
    Grace glanced up and noticed that she was not alone in her bemusement. With a brazenness that should have frightened her, the gentleman appeared to be taking the measure of her face. There was tenderness, longing, and even regret as he contemplated the delicate line of her nose, the shallow hollows of her cheeks, and the blush that