How to Lose a Duke in Ten Days Read Online Free Page B

graceful…” Charles smiled. “If you are the opposite, then he will have no choice but to turn his attentions elsewhere.”
    Pippa clapped her hands together. “Brilliant! A man like Arlington would never tolerate a wife who is anything less than perfection.”
    “Precisely,” Charles said. “And if there’s anyone who can turn a man’s stomach, it’s you, my dear. I have complete faith in your abilities.”
    Oh! Leaning forward, she swatted at him. He dodged her effectively by leaning to the side and away, out of her reach. “ You are insufferable!” 
    He laughed, holding his hands up in surrender. “I meant it in the most complimentary way possible, I swear it!”
    “Yes, I’m sure you did,” she sighed. “Well, I suppose that settles it…I must lose the duke, and I only have ten days in which to do it.”
     
     

 

Chapter Four
     
    The next morning, Pippa woke to the sound of the back door opening and shutting for what seemed like the hundredth time. The night had been balmy and she’d awakened to crack open her window, which was situated just two floors above the back entrance to the house. Every time someone knocked, her sensitive ears picked up the sharp rapping sound, which promptly wrenched her from sleep.
    She lay there for a moment, blinking up at the fresco that swept across her ceiling. Two cherubs sat atop a bed of clouds, aiming their arrows straight at the heart of an unsuspecting maiden below. Like Pippa, she had red hair and she wore a long, white, gossamer gown and a garland of spring flowers in her hair. Father had always said she was the maiden, and that love would one day strike her like a bolt of lightning. 
    As a girl, the prospect of being stricken by love had sounded terrifying. Now, the idea of being stricken by something as profound as love sounded…exhilarating, downright thrilling.  
    She would only marry for love. It was childish notion, perhaps, but she had the freedom to do so, provided her prince didn’t take too long to find her.
    And Arlington was a temptation she didn’t need.
    From the moment she’d glimpsed him at the Tisdale ball all those months ago, she’d been entranced by his harsh male beauty. He’d glanced at her several times that evening, and each time she’d felt a strong, elemental pull.
    Years ago, Charles had informed her about lovemaking—mostly for his own amusement. He took great delight in shocking her, and had shown her pictures that had made her gasp, wide-eyed in astonishment.
    Still, as shocking as the pictures were, they’d also intrigued her. Men hunched over the women, their shafts buried deep inside them. What would it feel like, she wondered, to have a man like Arlington buried deep inside her ? Would it hurt? The women in the illustrations looked pleased, rapturous even. 
    Another knock sounded on the back door, jerking her out of her thoughts.
    Good heavens, were they leading a procession through the kitchen?
    Tossing the covers aside, she glanced at the clock on her nightstand. Seven o’clock in the morning.
    Still groggy, she padded over to the wardrobe and selected a pink wrap, slipped it over her shoulders, and tied the sash. She flung the door open and flew down the steps, intent on seeking out the housekeeper, Mrs. Couch, to find out who, precisely, felt it necessary to knock on the door every five minutes.
    The second her unslippered feet met the marble floor of the entryway, she froze.
    Hundreds— thousands —of flowers filled the entryway—every table, every chair, on the floor—they were everywhere. Their fresh, earthy scent filled the entire house.
    “What in heaven’s name—?” 
    She moved into the parlor where there was a similar display. Every available space was laden with flowers—all the same—bright, white peonies. 
    Her favorite flower.
    A sinking feeling settled in the pit of her stomach.
    Just then, Mrs. Couch and two young footmen entered the room, their arms filled with more flowers, if