A Duke by Any Other Name- a Regency Romance by Claire Delacroix

Author:Claire Delacroix [Delacroix, Claire]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-988479-34-7
Publisher: Deborah A. Cooke

Miss Goodenham came to church.

Alexander hid his smile behind the gesture of taking a pinch of snuff, for he was absurdly glad to see her. He watched as she surveyed the congregation and noted that her gaze lingered upon him. His smile broadened that it was admiration lighting her gaze and not revulsion.

Yet he had chosen this hideous outfit of mauve and silver to appall one and all. Even the red flower clashed.

Perhaps the lady had bad taste.

Or perhaps she was sufficiently perceptive to see beyond illusion to the truth. As if to reinforce that notion, she smiled prettily when their gazes met, then seated herself with her cousins.

How could he determine how trustworthy she was? Anthea had hit the mark when she suggested he wed an honest woman. The trick was to find one.

Perhaps he could charm a dinner invitation from the family. It would give him both the opportunity to observe Nathaniel Cushing and to learn more about Miss Goodenham.

Before the bells of St. David’s had finished their merry pealing after the service, Alexander was expected at eight at Castle Keyvnor for dinner. Miss Goodenham’s pleasure in the news was unmistakable.

“What a marvelous buttonhole you have today, Your Grace,” she said, then leaned closer to sniff the flower. Her eyes widened and he wondered if its perfume sent the same surge of desire through her.

Her gaze dropped to his lips and parted slightly, even as she flushed.

He recalled the sweetness of her kiss and wanted another.

“Wherever did you find it?”

“Ah, I could never tell!” he said with a giggle. “A man must keep some secrets to himself.”

“As must a lady,” she agreed. “Secrets, do you not think, add a wondrous spice to any exchange?”

“Secrets,” he agreed, “sift the observant from those less so.”

Her smile was radiant. “I see we are of one mind in this. Do you ever attend the theater, Your Grace?”

Her cousins were heading for the castle and her sister gave her a glare, but Miss Goodenham lingered. Alexander offered his elbow to her to escort her a bit of the way, and she accepted with a smile. She leaned against him a little so he could feel the curve of her breast against his arm.

“The theater?” he echoed, raising his quizzing glass to examine her. She was utterly perfect. “I do. And you?”

“Oh, not very often, but I did see a Shakespearean play the last time we were in London.” Her smile was impish. “Grandmaman took us to see Henry IV.”

“Perhaps she thought it a good way for you to learn more of border politics.”

“Perhaps, though it would have been a more compelling lesson if she had not fallen asleep herself.”

Alexander chuckled.

“I should have preferred to have seen something more amusing.”

“Which of the plays would you have favored?”

She cast him a knowing glance. “Twelfth Night is my favorite, Your Grace.”

“Because love conquers all?”

“You sound like my sister!”

“And mine, to be sure. But that is not your reasoning?”

She frowned. “I should like to think love would be triumphant, Your Grace, but find it easier to believe that justice will prevail.

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