A Duke Like No Other (The Dukes' Club Book 12) by Eva Devon

Author:Eva Devon [Devon, Eva]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Duke, Rake, Regency, Victorian, Historical Romance
Publisher: Eva Devon
Published: 2020-02-11T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter 10

“I should go first,” the Earl of Rutherford said quietly as they easily walked towards the edge of the ballroom. “And then you should follow.”

She nodded, knowing she could cause only so much scandal. Leaving the ballroom with Rutherford blatantly would be a step too far. After all, she was not so senseless that she did not recognize blatant rule breaking would affect her brothers. Even if they were part of a rather scandalous family.

All one had to do was keep a vague appearance of some propriety and one could get away with a great deal.

After he slipped out, Cleo waited several moments near the door, observing the couples dancing, and then she too slipped into the shadows of the corridor.

Full of anticipation, her body all but humming with it, she headed out to the wide pavilion at the back of the house. Her slippers rushed down the stone step, and she made her way onto the slightly dew-touched grass.

The night sky overhead was dark, and there were no clouds, just as she’d surmised. But a few torches here and there lit the garden, making it clear the owners of the house knew there would be people in clandestine meetings outside.

She kept walking, confident that the earl would find her.

Once she had slipped into the copse of several lilac bushes, their scent wafting around her, a hand slipped out and wound around hers.

She might’ve yelped if she had not known his touch immediately. Instead, she turned towards him quickly and saw his face touched in the barest light.

“You found me quite easily,” she said quietly, pleased.

His dark hair brushed his forehead, and he reached forward, touching her silk bodice with the tips of his fingers. “You made it easy with your glittering golden gown.”

“You like it?” she asked, her heart wild at his touch.

“Its boldness suits you.”

“You suit me too,” she breathed, aching for his embrace.

His sensual mouth parted, and his fingers traced up to her collarbone. “Do I?”

“Yes.” She wet her lips, hungry for him. “I think you’ll be most interesting.”

“You make me sound like an animal in the tower,” he growled lowly. “Something in a cage to be noted. Not let out.”

“Is that what you feel like?” she whispered, caught off-guard by his comment. “That you’re caged and observed and not let out?”

He winced as if displeased she had perhaps caught sight of his true feelings. “Oh, aren’t all aristocrats caged lions being observed?”

She cocked her head to the side, contemplating him.

“I don’t know,” she said. “Perhaps, but there’s something about you just now, which makes me think—”

“Don’t think, Cleo, not now,” he cut in. “We’re to have passion, not philosophical discourse.”

“Can not one have passion and philosophical discourse?” she teased, even as she realized she’d just asked him to share more than passion with her when she had been unwilling herself on the ballroom floor. “Surely, the two go hand in hand. We need not bare our souls, but certainly, we can bare our minds?”

He laughed at that.

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