Along Came a Duke by Elizabeth Boyle

Author:Elizabeth Boyle
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: HarperCollins US

Chapter 10

What had he just said? Not even Preston quite believed it. Here to steal her heart? Had he gone mad?

Preston blamed Miss Timmons entirely. There was something utterly dangerous about this particular miss that had him confessing his secrets, laying his heart open.

What the devil was she doing to him? Tempting him. Creating havoc on his good sense.

Which he did possess . . . he did. Occasionally.

Though apparently not around Tabby, as Roxley might point out.

Well, he would argue, she brought out the worst of his common sense.

Here he had promised Hen so faithfully that he wouldn’t cause any scandals, yet what was he doing? Dancing with a lady not on his prescribed list and intimating to her betrothed a familiarity that should not exist.

Ah, but it did, he thought as he looked down at her shocked expression. So his confession had left her as upended as it had him.

Good. Served her right. Coming into his life and forcing him to consider all sorts of preposterous notions.

Like opening up Owle Park.

He shook that thought off as quickly as it came to him. For it was not only preposterous but also impossible.

But when he looked into her brown, fathomless eyes (which right now were glowing with something he guessed might be a dangerous mix of fury and murder) the darkest regions of his heart began to ignite. Illuminating the possibilities.

And right now his heart pounded with the thrill of conquest, having rescued her from that booby of a betrothed—not that it had been so terribly difficult. Nor did that matter, for the end result was that he had her in his arms again.

A victory that left him unwilling to ever return her.

It was a medieval sort of feeling, something his ancestors would have understood—and acted upon—but in modern times, one couldn’t abscond with any female who caught one’s eye and claim ducal prerogative.

Though thankfully it did allow him to steal her away from her betrothed, if only for this one dance.

“Whatever are you smiling about?” she asked.

Preston glanced down at her and gave over to the truth. “Plotting how to get you out of here.”

“Don’t be scandalous,” she scolded, only to his ears she hardly sounded unhappy with the notion.

“Scandalous would be to ask you to run away with me tonight,” he whispered, though he stopped short of doing just that . . . asking her to slip away into the night with him. Tempting though it was.

“From what I understand, Your Grace, and given your reputation, such a suggestion would hardly be scandalous,” she replied, “rather a familiar and well-trodden path you ought to have outgrown by now.”

“Ouch,” Preston laughed. “You’ve been listening to your Miss Dale.”

“And most of London society,” she added.

“Most of London society is comprised of idiots,” he offered, nodding to the prancing and mincing crowd around them.

“Are you saying the reports about your . . . your . . .”

“Wrongdoings?” he suggested.

“Yes, those,” she said. “The reports of your wrongdoings are merely the products of gossip?”

He shook his head.

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