The Match of the Century Read Online Free

heading to London. There was actually the possibility that his ship and Wellesley’s had passed each other on the Channel.
    And all Ben wanted was to return to his men, to lead his troops, except here was Elin.
    Elin .
    He remembered her as a girl. He was shocked to see her a woman—although her impact on him had not changed. There had been a time when she’d been all he could think about. He’d had to work to erase her from his mind. He’d forced himself to let her go.
    Now he realized he’d forgotten nothing.
    He took a hesitant step toward the door. He’d been so intent in hunting Gavin down, many important details hadn’t registered with him. They did now.
    The duke was hosting a ball. Ben had rarely seen the house lit up the way it was this evening. It had been prepared for a truly memorable occasion. The foyer had been full of people dressed in their finest, and the musicians played with great vigor
    And here was Elin. She, too, wore her best.
    Maturity had added to her beauty. She had always reminded him of the wood sprites his Nan claimed inhabited the forests around Trenton. Elin was delicate, finely made, and yet full of spirit.
    Her maid had attempted to tame the glorious curls of her hair to make her more acceptable to London society. They must have had a time of it. He remembered the way her curls would escape her braid and frame her face or her hair’s heavenly mass when she’d worn it down.
    However, the biggest change were her curves, the divine swelling of her breasts and the shadow through the gauzy material outlining her waist and legs.
    Memory is a tricky thing. Yes, he could recall covering those breasts with eager hands. He also remembered his father horsewhipping him and, of course, the banishment . . .
    Ben groped for his anger, surprised it could have dissipated so completely, diverted by Elin’s presence. Why was he stunned to find her here? He shouldn’t have been. She was Gavin’s. She’d always been meant for the duke. She’d told him often enough.
    “I suppose the two of you are married.”
    He sounded harsh. He felt harsh.
    “Tonight’s the betrothal ball,” Gavin answered. “We postponed the marriage when Father died. It took me a bit more time than anticipated to make the transition.”
    “Well, that explains all the nonsense downstairs.”
    Elin had not spoken. Ben was having difficulty keeping his gaze away from her. Be angry. Stay angry.
    His brother came forward, blocking Ben’s view of Elin’s petite figure. “I’m glad you are here.”
    “I don’t want to be here.” There it was, his temper. He found his footing again. “And if you are marrying, what is this talk about needing me? Within the year, you will have begat a little duke with a host more to come. I’m temporarily your heir. You don’t need me.”
    “No one knows what life holds,” his brother answered. “After all, we didn’t expect Father’s death. He had been a healthy man, a strong one, yet he was gone before we knew it. I could meet my death on the morrow, or before Elin bears a child, then you will need to understand the demands of the title.”
    “You might meet your death right this minute, brother, if you do not reverse what you did to me. I have no desire to be Baynton.”
    For a long second, the duke took his measure. He was known for his ability to read men. They said he was more skillful than even his father had been. Ben thought it pig swill.
    “I can’t,” Gavin said at last. “Whether nothing happens to me before Elin bears my heir, or if she gives me a host of sons, someone I trust must be on hand to guide the next duke in my stead. That is you, Ben. You are the only one I can trust. If I could give you back your command, I would. However, you are needed here.”
    “To do what? Wait upon your death? I’m a man, Gavin, not a lapdog.”
    “I am aware I ask a high price,” his brother answered, finally showing annoyance. “If Jack were here, this would be his role.