Not Quite A Duke (Dukes' Club Book 6) Read Online Free
Author: Eva Devon
Tags: Regency, Historical Romance, Victorian, Rake, duke
hand back as soon as he had a good grip on the saucer.
As if he, too, had been stunned by the brief touch, he held the cup in midair.
After a slightly too-long pause, he cleared his throat. “I do not need blunt, to answer your question. And given the misfortune that has befallen you, it pleases me to ensure your circumstances.”
“And yet, I cannot accept your help,” she said quickly. “Such a thing would be beyond the pale of decorum. Perhaps I could purchase the house from you?”
He sputtered on his tea.
She stood, ready to clap him on the back if necessary but he held up a hand.
“You see,” she began as she sat again, “I have quite a fortune of my own.”
Once again, he raked his dark gaze up and down her body.
“You are a woman of many secrets, I think.”
It was tempting to reply that he had no idea.
“I propose that you sell me the house,” she said as she raised her cup to her lips.
Placing his cup back in its saucer he replied, “I propose that I stay and that we determine the best course of action after I’ve learned more about you and the house."
She ground her teeth together. Oh no. She couldn’t have that. She was going up to London tomorrow for a brief research outing and. . . The arrogance of him to suppose he would know what was best for her.
Then again, he was a man.
“Of course you must stay,” she replied with forced good will. “It is your house, after all.”
“I am sorry to cause you such discomfort, but now that I know that my acquisition is far from straight forward, I feel I must take some interest in you.”
She forced herself to smile. “I wish you wouldn’t.”
He stared.
That stare drove straight through her. It felt as if he were searching the very depths of her soul to discover the source of her oddity.
So, she gave him a small salute with her cup and explained, “I so hate attention.”
“Of course.”
He didn’t believe her. Which was impossible. Everything about the Lady Patience she’d painstakingly created, from her scraped back hair, to tense mannerisms, suggested she loathed company.
It was not acceptable that he was seeing slight cracks in her mask. It had taken her years to establish her mask and fool those about her so she might live a very private and very secret life when away from Barring House.
There was only one thing for it.
She smiled coolly at him over the rim of her teacup as she prepared to take another sip.
She was going to have to get rid of Lord Charles. . . Without delay.
Chapter 3
Despite her reserved manner and sense of duty as a hostess, Lady Patience was trouble.
And she was absolutely hiding something.
The four-poster bed, if it could still be called a bed, was full of lumps. The bedding itself was so full of dust he’d have sneezed his head off if he wasn’t made of such a strong constitution. The woman clearly thought he was a delicate flower of a man who would be dissuaded by creature discomforts.
How could she know the years he’d spent abroad in shocking conditions as he’d assisted nobles to escape the reign of terror?
No one knew. Not even his brother, the duke.
His own talent as an actor made it clear to him that Lady Patience was a masker of extreme skill, but what was she hiding?
His sense of curiosity was roused and he wasn’t going anywhere until he discovered her secret.
It was perverse. He knew it.
She was a lady grieving the death of a disappointing relative.
Of that, he was familiar.
When she’d related her uncle’s drowning, he’d felt himself slipping back in time to the smell of gunpowder and his father.
No.
He couldn’t think of that. If he did, he’d have to drink himself into a stupor. And such a thing would adversely affect his mission to discover what the devil was really going on in the house he’d won in what had seemed to be a simple hand of cards.
He lifted the single candle he’d been given and used it to make better view of his dark room. . . Though cell might
As if he, too, had been stunned by the brief touch, he held the cup in midair.
After a slightly too-long pause, he cleared his throat. “I do not need blunt, to answer your question. And given the misfortune that has befallen you, it pleases me to ensure your circumstances.”
“And yet, I cannot accept your help,” she said quickly. “Such a thing would be beyond the pale of decorum. Perhaps I could purchase the house from you?”
He sputtered on his tea.
She stood, ready to clap him on the back if necessary but he held up a hand.
“You see,” she began as she sat again, “I have quite a fortune of my own.”
Once again, he raked his dark gaze up and down her body.
“You are a woman of many secrets, I think.”
It was tempting to reply that he had no idea.
“I propose that you sell me the house,” she said as she raised her cup to her lips.
Placing his cup back in its saucer he replied, “I propose that I stay and that we determine the best course of action after I’ve learned more about you and the house."
She ground her teeth together. Oh no. She couldn’t have that. She was going up to London tomorrow for a brief research outing and. . . The arrogance of him to suppose he would know what was best for her.
Then again, he was a man.
“Of course you must stay,” she replied with forced good will. “It is your house, after all.”
“I am sorry to cause you such discomfort, but now that I know that my acquisition is far from straight forward, I feel I must take some interest in you.”
She forced herself to smile. “I wish you wouldn’t.”
He stared.
That stare drove straight through her. It felt as if he were searching the very depths of her soul to discover the source of her oddity.
So, she gave him a small salute with her cup and explained, “I so hate attention.”
“Of course.”
He didn’t believe her. Which was impossible. Everything about the Lady Patience she’d painstakingly created, from her scraped back hair, to tense mannerisms, suggested she loathed company.
It was not acceptable that he was seeing slight cracks in her mask. It had taken her years to establish her mask and fool those about her so she might live a very private and very secret life when away from Barring House.
There was only one thing for it.
She smiled coolly at him over the rim of her teacup as she prepared to take another sip.
She was going to have to get rid of Lord Charles. . . Without delay.
Chapter 3
Despite her reserved manner and sense of duty as a hostess, Lady Patience was trouble.
And she was absolutely hiding something.
The four-poster bed, if it could still be called a bed, was full of lumps. The bedding itself was so full of dust he’d have sneezed his head off if he wasn’t made of such a strong constitution. The woman clearly thought he was a delicate flower of a man who would be dissuaded by creature discomforts.
How could she know the years he’d spent abroad in shocking conditions as he’d assisted nobles to escape the reign of terror?
No one knew. Not even his brother, the duke.
His own talent as an actor made it clear to him that Lady Patience was a masker of extreme skill, but what was she hiding?
His sense of curiosity was roused and he wasn’t going anywhere until he discovered her secret.
It was perverse. He knew it.
She was a lady grieving the death of a disappointing relative.
Of that, he was familiar.
When she’d related her uncle’s drowning, he’d felt himself slipping back in time to the smell of gunpowder and his father.
No.
He couldn’t think of that. If he did, he’d have to drink himself into a stupor. And such a thing would adversely affect his mission to discover what the devil was really going on in the house he’d won in what had seemed to be a simple hand of cards.
He lifted the single candle he’d been given and used it to make better view of his dark room. . . Though cell might