An Infamous Betrayal by Messina Lynn

Author:Messina, Lynn
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Potatoworks Press
Published: 2018-08-11T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER NINE

The door banged as a petulant voice growled, “I said I’ve got it, Sutton!”

Gasping in horror, Bea dashed to the other side of the room, to the window she had so recently contemplated squeezing through, and watched the Dowager Duchess of Kesgrave walk in carrying a tea tray.

Kesgrave, recovering his wits so quickly Bea wondered if she’d imagined the kiss that had almost happened, sauntered—oh, yes, he sauntered while she had scurried—over to the entry to relieve his grandmother of her burden. She promptly twisted away and said testily, “Did you not just hear me tell Sutton I can do it? I may be closer to cocking up my toes than kicking up my heels, but I can still manage a tray with a few cups on it.”

“I did not come over here to assist you, my dear, because you are feeble,” the duke said mildly, “but because you are female. I believe the last time you berated me was for letting my cousin Josephine hold a parcel while I remained empty-handed.”

“That’s because your cousin Josephine is blunderous and bumbling. I wouldn’t let her hold my hat if I had any desire to ever wear it again,” the dowager said as she crossed to the table. “The lesson there was don’t let clumsy people carry parcels, not women. You are a fool, Kesgrave, and I’m not sure why I put up with you.”

Although her tone was just as harsh as her words, the duke took no offense at this criticism and even bowed as if receiving a compliment. “A weakness I’m sure you’ll overcome soon enough. In the meantime, do put the tray down before you drop it. I know you like to boast of your strength and Sutton and I are agog at your impressive vigor, but you suffer from the rheumatic complaint and your doctor strictly advised against unnecessarily straining your joints.”

At the mention of her doctor, her grace let forth a string of invectives, and Bea, standing by the window, regretted the fact that she was in no state to appreciate the scene. How heartily ridiculous it all was—the august Duke of Kesgrave getting his ear cuffed like a schoolboy and she too horrified to do anything but stare blankly, her mind trying to understand exactly what had happened before the septuagenarian had burst into the room.

He had intended to kiss her, that much was clear, even if his insouciance immediately after belied the intensity of the moment. She even thought she understood why, for she had felt the same tug of attraction as he, the same undeniable awareness as he, the same inability to break the connection. It was as if they were magnets, drawn together by an incontrovertible force, and what she didn’t know was if that was what happened when all women and men stood too close together or just she and the duke.

On one hand, the answer didn’t matter, for it would change nothing about the circumstance. Even if the power of their attraction spoke to the depth of their bond, it wouldn’t have any bearing on his future.

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