The Duchess Diaries: The Bridal Pleasures Series Read Online Free Page B

mean?”
    “It means that I am human. I have failings like any other man. If you’re afraid that I will do or say anything to dishonor your cousin, then come out and say it. Or do not introduce us.”
    “The thought never entered my mind,” Devon said, then hesitated. “Did it enter yours?”
    Gideon laughed.
    Devon scrutinized him in silence. “On second thought,maybe this isn’t one of my brighter ideas. I’ll find someone harmless instead. There might be an earl hiding in here somewhere who isn’t a walking scandal.”
    “Look—”
    Devon held up a hand. “It’s all right. I understand. You don’t want to do me the only favor I have ever asked of you in all the years of our friendship.”
    Gideon glanced at Charlotte’s willowy figure. From where he stood she looked as if she were captured in the candlelight prisms. “Oh, hell, fine. I suppose it won’t kill me. But if this is one of your pranks, I promise you, I will pay you back in spades.”
    “Me, a model of dignity and reform? Would I play a trick on a duke who has studied under a sword master such as Fenton?”
    “What do you expect me to say to her?”
    “Haven’t you paid court to enough women to write a book on the subject?”
    “Only when I was hoping for something in return.”
    Devon’s eyes darkened. “Can I give you one suggestion?”
    “Damn you.”
    “Try not to use language like that in front of the young ladies or you’re liable to be slapped witless by a dozen or so fans.”
    Charlotte’s throat constricted. She couldn’t swallow as she observed the swath the duke cut through the ballroom. She glanced about, seeking a reasonable means of escape, a group of guests to hide her, any excuse not to face the man whom her cousin had clearly sent to bedevil her.
    And yet she waited. She hoped. What would she do for the chance to know him as she had imagined in her diary? What if when he reached her he announced in a masterful voice, “This ball is a waste of our time. You belong with me. Alone. In my arms. I am taking you again, and this time I will not let you elude me.”
    She shivered with forbidden, foolish anticipation. How wicked she could be in her thoughts. Then, suddenly, the duke stood before her. She lifted her gaze. Wickedness looked her right in the face. She forced herself to look back.
    Thought ceased to matter. Reason abandoned her.
    Her mind went into anarchy.
    Sensation reigned, wild and undisciplined.
    She’d caught only a few glimpses of him about town. His profile in a passing carriage. A stolen look at his broad-shouldered figure at an exhibition. It wouldn’t have been appropriate to stare down the duke in the emporium. Heaven forbid that one of his strumpets had made a snide remark that the younger girls of the academy had overheard.
    Or that Charlotte herself had broken her perfect record of propriety and given the tart a piece of her mind. One glance at him that day had been sufficient to confirm her prior beliefs. He was an insufferably attractive man who radiated the charm of an authentic rogue.
    And she was only asking for trouble by allowing her infatuation to grow.
    Perhaps this meeting would dampen her interest in him once and for all. Perhaps he would reveal how crude and conceited he was at heart. She would be content to prove to herself that he was handsome on the outside and hollow within.
    “May I introduce myself?” he asked.
    She nodded her head in the affirmative.
    He said something. She had no idea what it was. He might have been speaking Portuguese.
    For the life of her she could not force her mind to function.
    Had he just asked her to dance?
    “I’m sorry,” she heard herself reply. “I can’t.”
    Good for her. Her manners, her good sense, came to her rescue when it seemed mayhem had won.
    “Are you enjoying the party, Your Grace?”
    His dark saturnine smile swept her into another panic. “Not particularly.”
    “I’m glad to hear…”
    What had he said?
    This initial